by Diane Bator
Her thoughts drifted back to the man who’d followed her home. She was tempted to mention him, but Hilda would probably say she was being silly. He likely lived nearby and happened to walk home behind her. Still, something about him bothered her. Something was vaguely familiar.
Hilda dabbed at her eyes then excused herself to make a pot of tea.
Katie smiled and gazed at the photographs one more time. It was nice to know Hilda and her husband had shared many years together before he died of pneumonia two years ago.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Hilda. “Did you have a boyfriend before you moved here?”
The truth was a thousand times uglier than any lie. “No. I was too busy with work.”
“What was it you did again?” Her landlady set a flowered teapot and two delicate china teacups on the table.
“I drew up papers and stuff.”
“Like a legal assistant, right? My granddaughter is training to do that. It does sound like a lot of hard work.”
“It was. I burned out.” Which wasn’t a total lie.
“So, you opted for a bookstore. That must be a huge change.”
Katie thought about the past two months. “It’s been an adventure so far.”
Hilda chuckled. “I take it you’ve met a few of our more colorful citizens. Have you met Mimsy Lexington yet? I can’t imagine her not haunting your shop. She used to drive Ray crazy griping about how much she hated the dust in his store.”
“She’s been in once a week since I opened.”
“Mimsy’s a funny bird. It’s hard to believe she used to be a prim, proper lady. When her husband died, she lost her grip on reality and started to live in her novels.” Hilda poured them each a cup of tea. “She not only reads them, mind you, she writes them. She has a fabulous imagination.”
“Mimsy’s an author?”
“Katarina von Herrington. Mimsy writes some of the steamiest, trashiest stuff out there and people love it.”
“I love her.” She shook her head in amazement. “Who knew? No wonder she didn’t want to buy Katarina’s latest novel.”
“Actually, I think right now only our writing group knows for sure. Her family just thinks she’s lost her marbles.” Hilda leaned closer and rested her fingers on Katie’s forearm. “To be honest, her son is a dirty rat, but I’m not one to gossip.”
“Is Mark her son? I thought he was her grandson.”
“He is. I’m talking about Joey, Mark’s uncle.”
“Do I know him?”
“Joey? Probably not. He lives in the city. He doesn't come around unless someone’s died and he’s inheriting money. As for Mimsy, I think she’s gotten so deep into her characters she doesn’t know how to get through life without them anymore. She seems much happier this way, though. Please do her a favor and keep it a secret. She’d be mad as a bee for eternity that I told you.”
“You’re a writer too?”
“Yeah, I guess I am. I write for a couple of magazines for extra money now and then. Once a month I write for the local paper, too.”
Katie helped herself to a chocolate chip cookie from the china plate on the table. “Do you have anything I can read?”
Hilda’s face flushed and she gave a hearty laugh. “Oh, honey, you wouldn’t want to read my stuff. It’s not nearly as good as Mimsy’s. She has far more talent.”
“I doubt that. From your stories, I’ll bet your writing’s very good.”
She hesitated. “I’ll find something for you to read later. I’m sure I have something handy I still need to submit.”
“You know, I never would have guessed.”
“Kind of fun getting to know new people, huh?” The eighty year old snapped a cookie delicately in two even halves.
A wry smile touched Katie’s lips. Fun getting to know people period. “It’s funny how I always loved reading, but I’ve never thought much about the authors.”
“You sure will after you meet this bunch.” Hilda’s eyes twinkled. “Who knows, maybe you can join our group. We meet every Thursday night, usually around seven.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t have anything to write about.”
“I’m sure there have been a lot of things you’ve done in your life people would want to hear about. Start small. I have an extra notebook if you’re interested.”
They chatted for another hour. Katie remained evasive about her life before Packham but was keen to learn more about the writing group. When Hilda offered the notebook again, she took it more out of courtesy than to write her memoirs. The last thing she needed was to have someone discover she was a fraud. They'd throw her in jail for the rest of her life.
“I think I’m going to have a hot bath and get some sleep.” Katie yawned, although it was only around nine. “It was a really crazy day.”
Hilda wished her good night and turned on the television. The theme song from Law and Order followed Katie up the stairs to her room. She gathered her nightgown and fluffy blue bathrobe then locked herself in the bathroom. Her entire body ached with tension. While she sank into the warm water and tried to relax, a thousand thoughts swirled through her mind. What was her family doing since she’d run for her life? Books she should order. Where was Maddox looking for her? What would she do if he found her?
Katie was exhausted by the time she left the sanctity of the bathtub. Warm and covered in lotion, she crawled beneath the covers on her double bed. She tried to read a book she’d found in the used section, but something Hilda said nagged at her. Katie had done a lot in her thirty-four years she could write about.
There was just no way anyone could ever read it.
Since she’d dabbled in creative writing as a kid, she decided to find out where Hilda’s group met, maybe sit in on a meeting or two and pick up some pointers. At the very least, she’d meet some new people. Most writers were also avid readers and some of the more tenacious ones would publish books one day.
Katie opened the blue spiral notebook and stared at the lined paper. The tip of her pen touched the paper, but she had no idea where to start. She doodled until postcard pictures of her parents popped into her head. The pen moved across the page, guided by an unseen hand. She let go and remembered birthday parties, her dad’s stay in the hospital after his heart attack, her mom dancing on the sand at Myrtle Beach last Christmas and her sister’s graduation. All the things she’d experienced now seemed like part of someone else’s life.
Three hours later, Katie had filled a good portion of the eighty-page notebook. She wiggled her cramped fingers and tucked the book into a suitcase at the back of her closet and lay in bed with a relaxed smile.
Her last conscious thought was she needed to pick up another notebook. There was so much more to write. Better yet, she’d find a supplier and stock some nice ones in the bookstore as soon as possible. Her hand was stiff and sore, but her mind was at peace and, for the first time in months, sleep conquered her easily.
Chapter 15
Danny
Leo called later that night. “Your friend Katie Mullins has quite the past.”
“Fill me in.” Danny yawned and spooned yogurt from a tiny plastic cup, his third in less than five minutes. One hadn’t been enough to fill his sweet tooth or calm his rumbling stomach. The fresh country air, along with helping Nate with evening chores, had brought on his appetite.
“In high school, she was an above average student and a concession stand girl for a theatre. After that she became a legal secretary. When she graduated, she went to work for Lawrence, Phillips and Dunn before she left town and moved to Packham. I found a high school yearbook picture and a thin paper trail.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“Call it what you want. It feels wrong.”
“Lawrence, Phillips and Dunn? Why does that name sound familiar?”
“That’s the firm that represents—you ready for this? Ambiguous Designs, one of the contractors that work for DMR Architectural. They’re under the microscope right
now, too, but only by default.”
“Default doesn’t smell so good either.” Danny finished the last of his yogurt and tossed the plastic cup toward the trash can. It missed and bounced off the wall, landing on the floor with a thin rattle. “Why would she use that as her background job? It seems a little obvious.”
“Not really. It took me a while to backtrack and figure out the connection. There’s not a direct link. Ambiguous really is ambiguous. They’re kind of a dorky third-cousin you give a job to because it’ll keep your mother off your back. You’ll like who owns it, though.”
“Who?”
“Joseph Roland.”
“Maddox’s boy Roland?” Danny sat at the kitchen table and frowned. “So Katie Mullins used to work for the lawyers representing one of Roland’s companies? Did you find out what else he owns? He hinted a few times at being a major player. What’s he got going?”
“Just that and DMR. Maddox is an easier cockroach to follow. He’s part owner in DMR, part owner in some factory outside of Newville and sole proprietor of a little pawn shop.”
“A pawn shop?” Danny laughed then sobered.
Leo seemed to read his mind. “You think he used it to clean up some cash? He didn’t. It’s one of the only legit businesses he’s owned. It closed two years ago. The place got robbed so many times the manager handed out goods like every day was Halloween.”
“It went broke?”
“Flatter than a rabbit on the freeway.”
Danny nodded. “Check it out anyway. What happened to Katie from there?”
“Assuming she actually ever worked there? She disappeared. There’s about six months unaccounted for between the time she left the law firm and she showed up in Packham.”
“Did she quit or was she fired?”
“Neither. She vanished.” Leo hesitated. “If Katie actually is Paulina.”
“You have doubts?”
“I don’t have proof. What I have is a hunch Paulina was supposed to leave town six months ago but something went wrong. Maybe Dunnsforth couldn’t convince her.”
“Not until Maddox had a gun to her head, anyway.” Danny ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. If he’d also left her the means to leave town, threatening her life was added incentive. “What did he have on her that made her stay?”
Leo had a ready answer. “He was a creep and an abuser. Good girls like bad boys. It’s a scientific fact. My guess is he beat her up, gave her a few fancy gifts then beat her up again. He didn’t need anything more than that to keep her there.”
Danny had gone on enough domestic violence calls to know he was right. “What else have you got?”
“As far as Paulina goes, nada. I didn’t find much more than you already have. Do you want me to dig deeper?”
“No. I’ve gone as far as I can without tying her up and interrogating her.”
Paulina Chourney’s background was like reading a fairy tale. She and her sister were treated like princesses by doting parents. Mom was a kindergarten teacher and Dad a lawyer. Her passions were dance and riding horses. She was an honor student and was offered scholarships to several universities to study business and finance.
Danny hung up the phone then stared out the window. “So what the hell was she doing as Maddox’s secretary?”
He ran upstairs to check his e-mails. All the information Leo had found was instantly at his fingertips. Dunnsforth had covered all his bases. He’d found her high school yearbook, resume and a copy of her driver’s license.
Leo was right. Something smelled fishy.
Dunnsforth was the legitimate architect in the company. Maddox and Roland were the “business” men. The guys who masterminded the money laundering and any other details Dunnsforth wouldn’t have considered. He wasn’t the type.
Danny sat back. The whole corporation was a web of backstabbing, affairs and illegalities that made his head swim. He’d flowcharted and researched all the connections between all the players.
Dunnsforth would never be able to obtain the documents necessary for himself, let alone Paulina, to start a new life. He might be able to embezzle the twenty million dollars, but even that was doubtful. Not that the man wasn’t smart. He just wasn’t the suicidal type and he knew what his partners would do if he crossed them.
So who then? Who had enough brains and brass to steal money, forge documents to frame Dunnsforth and want Paulina out of the way, but not dead? And why?
All questions seemed to lead him back to Maddox.
Chapter 16
Katie
Refreshed by her first good sleep in months, Katie left the house early the next morning and took a longer route to work. All the money Maddox had ever offered wasn’t so breathtaking. The totems along Main Street were once towering poplar or oak trees. She’d read in a book about the area that, rather than remove the dead trees, the town hired sculptors to carve them.
Old brick gingerbread houses lined the streets. How many people had lived in those houses over the past hundred years or more? Three blocks from the bookstore, she paused in front of the Presbyterian church to admire the stained glass windows set into fieldstone walls. According to Ray, they were twenty-feet high and made by one of the first settlers in the area. The morning sun probably cast a rainbow of color over the walls and pews inside. Although she hadn’t gone to church since she was a kid, to see the light shine through the colorful windows would be worth attending a service.
She might even get something more out of it.
Katie walked into Java Jo’s and breathed in the scent of fresh ground coffee and heated muffins. Comfort foods. None of the customers paid her any attention, which didn’t bother her in the least. She welcomed the anonymity.
“Hey, hon, what can I get you?” Jo flashed a broad smile.
She settled on raspberry coconut bars and three large Bavarian chocolate coffees. The large pine counter looked like the one in her bookstore. Had Ray made this one, too?
A young couple with a tiny bald baby sat at the back of the narrow shop. A pang of envy twanged her heart. She’d doomed herself to a life in hiding with no going back. If she were to have a husband and family, she’d have to shield them from the world—then lie to them for the rest of her life. She didn’t want to endanger anyone.
More likely, she’d end up like the slender woman with black curly hair who sat in the front window. Alone with her coffee and a macaroon, she wrote in a spiral bound notebook. Another writer. When a ring flashed on the woman’s left hand, Katie sighed. She probably had a husband and a flock of kids at home.
“Here you go, love.” Jo handed over three cups in a cardboard tray and a white paper bag with “Java Jo’s Coffee House” emblazoned on the side. The jeweled butterfly pin on her shirt caught the sun.
“Thanks. Your pin’s pretty.”
“Oh, thanks. My kids gave it to me for Mother’s Day. I’m a huge butterfly fan.” Her voice was warm and gentle. “Every summer I add more plants to my garden to attract them. This year it was a couple of Echinacea plants, a pink one and yellow one. Do you garden?”
“The only thing I can keep green is bologna.” Katie shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. “Besides, I live in an apartment.”
“My son’s like that. He started college this fall. If it weren’t for him coming home on weekends, he’d eat so much pizza he’d turn into one.” She gave a deep throaty laugh. “You have a lovely day, dear.”
Katie stole one last glance at the woman in the window who wrote at a dizzying pace, oblivious to the world around her. She left behind the comfort of the coffee shop and headed to her store and felt like the only person in the entire town of Packham, or at least the coffee shop, with no one special.
“You beat me to Jo’s.” Laura swung her lithe body out of her husband’s red sports car, which pulled away with a honk. Her husband worked across town at the arena. Except for her youngest daughter, Laura’s kids were grown and had their own babies. Where Katie looked like a dust bunny b
y five, Laura still looked as fresh as she had before work.
Katie handed her the coffee and snacks then unlocked the front door. A sigh escaped her before she could stop it.
“Are you okay?”
“Great. Not looking forward to unpacking all the stock we’re getting today.” Katie turned on the computer and, when she the store remained silent, glanced up.
Laura stood in the doorway, a smug look on her face. “You’re a million miles away. What’s going on?”
She drew in a deep breath and steadied herself. No one needed to know how afraid she was of the shadows in her room. In any room. “I’m fine. Nate will be here soon and I need to make room in the back and remember to ask him to fix the lock. I also want to bring in a line of journals. If you want something to do, you can see what our suppliers offer.”
“Sure.” Laura seemed peeved. “At least tell me what I’m looking for.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know much about them. Find out what you can and we can take it from there.” Katie brushed her off. She needed time alone.
When she walked into the back room, her gaze darted to the ornate red glass cookie jar on top of the cupboards. It wasn’t there for decoration. She didn’t want to dwell on the gun it contained.
A bright blue cube van backed up to the bookstore as she opened the back door. Nate hopped out of the driver’s door with an ear-to-ear grin. “On time as always. I swear if you were ever late, I’d know hell froze over. You always open that door just when I pull up.”
“Like I couldn’t hear that beast for miles.” She flashed a weak smile. “I thought you said you were getting the muffler fixed.”
“This afternoon.” He opened the rear of the van and slid out the ramp. “My brother-in-law’s in town for a couple days. He’s a good mechanic, so I’m making him work for his dinner.” He winked. “He’s also single and, from what I’ve been told, pretty hot stuff.”
