Annie's Neighborhood (Harlequin Heartwarming) (14 page)

That thought stuck with her all evening. As a result, she was eager to check out the warehouse and hunt him down the next day for further discussion.

Chapter Eight

I
N
THE
MORNING
Annie answered an early knock at her door. Facing two men, strangers, she grappled for her phone, ready to speed-dial police dispatch.

The pudgier, red-haired man with a crew cut spoke quickly. “My name is Roger McBride. This is my friend, Charlie Fitzpatrick. Last night the police chief came to see me. He said you might be hiring general laborers. Me and Charlie can do anything.”

Once again Annie was stunned that Sky would refer people to help with a project he wasn’t shy about saying he’d rather she dropped.

“At this point, the work I have going is more of a neighbor-helping-neighbor thing, mostly painting houses. I don’t own a business, so I’m not offering real jobs. Not the kind where you fill out applications and get paid regular wages. Right now, I provide lunch and supper if we paint that long. Yesterday I gave all the volunteer workers credit coupons to a local grocery store by way of added thanks. And I supply paint for the homes of workers who pitch in.”

“Food coupons are worth a lot to those of us who’ve lost our jobs and can’t find work,” Roger McBride said. “And Loretta, that’s my wife, says just about every week that she’d like to paint our house dark gray with wine-red trim.”

“I like what you’ve done on Rose Arbor,” Charlie chimed in.

Annie eyed them and judged them both to be in their fifties. Of an age when even in a good economy they might have difficulty getting hired. “What did you used to do?”

“We were managers at the glove factory. Prior to that, when the Honeycutts produced lingerie, we kept the machines running and did other general maintenance. We both worked there from the time we graduated high school.”

“My grandmother sewed lingerie for many years. Ida Vance, did you know her?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said together.

“Miz Ida made a heap of undies in her day.” Roger smiled. “Wore out two machines during my tenure. My wife and I were sorry to read about her passing. We would’ve gone to the funeral, but Loretta couldn’t get off work. She’s in fast food.”

Charlie echoed his friend’s sentiment.

“Thank you.” Annie cleared her throat. Talking about her grandmother’s death was still hard. “I may need your skills a bit farther down the road if another plan of mine takes shape. Evelyn Dodd’s home is scheduled for painting today. Her husband power-washed it yesterday. If everyone who worked on the Gonzales house returns, and if you two pitch in, we could finish early enough to move on to the Mickelson bungalow. The other home owners on Rose Arbor Street are waiting to see how it goes.”

Charlie, the shorter of the men, tilted his head to one side. “Rumor has it that you aim to gussie up the whole town, Ms. Emerson.”

“Call me Annie. My hope, Mr. Fitzpatrick, is to start the ball rolling and encourage all our residents to get involved.”

“I don’t know about that,” Roger said, rubbing a hand over his short hair. “Folks in Briar Run, we’re all down on our luck. A lot of us, like Charlie and me, are about to run out of unemployment benefits. We’ll tackle anything to earn a little extra.”

“Why did the glove factory close? Seems to me gloves are an item people always need. Maybe they’re not quite as essential as toilet paper,” Annie said with a smile, “but between sanding and painting, I’ve gone through a few pairs.”

Roger nodded. “We all thought that. The Honeycutt brothers retooled to make gloves after they lost the lingerie trade to China. Gloves did real well at first. Then Bill Honeycutt died. His brother got cancer, so he sold to a conglomerate. Lucy Portallis, our accountant, said the new owners bought the factory as a tax write-off. After a year we all noticed orders tapering, then a comptroller from outside cut our shifts. One day, two suits met us at the front door and said the plant was closed. We should’ve seen it coming, but no one did.”

“Hmm.” Annie nibbled on her lip. “Since the factory was the economic lifeblood of this community, it’s a shame they didn’t sell the business again instead of shutting it down.”

“The conglomerate’s board didn’t care. They outsourced the contracts. They didn’t know the folks who worked there. Three generations of Honeycutts lived in Louisville. They had skin in the game, so to speak. The shame was that Bill never married. Harold did but he never had kids to pass the company to like their daddy did.”

Annie stared into space a moment. “I see. Did they come in later and sell off all the equipment?”

“Not that I know of,” Roger said. “Do you, Charlie?”

“Nope. But I don’t think so. Kids broke some windows in the back of the building. The police chief before Cordova, Jimmy Heilman, he ordered the place patrolled. Eventually the kids lost interest.”

Annie glanced at her watch. “I’m late to go pick up paint. If you two want to work, meet me at the Dodd house in half an hour. It’s the second one from the end of this street. I’ll bring over some paint and supplies, and then I have a few errands to run. I’ll swing past the paint store again later to get paint for the Mickelson place.”

“Sounds good,” Charlie said, pulling a pair of cotton gloves from his pocket.

Roger let his friend walk away, but he hung back. “Uh, Chief Cordova said I had to tell you that since I lost my job, I had a drinking problem for a while. I swear it’s under control and you won’t have to worry about it if you need handymen later.”

“I appreciate your honesty, Roger. I’ll contact you and Charlie if another project I want to do actually happens. For that, I may be able swing paying a bit above minimum wage.”

“That would be good. Real good,” he said, lowering his chin before he trotted after his buddy.

Annie’s cell phone rang as she closed her door. “Hello.” Her greeting was tentative since not many people had her number.

“It’s Sky. I wanted to let you know that I told a guy to contact you about work. He may bring a friend by to see you today.”

“They’ve been here. I have to say I wondered why you’d be drumming up workers who need to be paid when you were worried it’d get out that I inherited money from Gran Ida.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think about that. Like I said, I know you’re going to carry on one way or another. But I did have another reason for sending them over. I’ve noticed a lot of gawkers driving down your street. We can’t be sure they’re all friendly locals. Some could be gang members. I’d feel better if you had some hefty guys around in case anybody tried to cause you more grief.” He paused. “Speaking of grief, I called the high school principal and got last names to go with the first names Deshawn accidentally spilled. Roy Dell Carter is a dropout. Heywood Brown is a junior, still attending school, but it’s hit and miss. Both kids’ recent histories suggest they’re prime candidates to be your graffiti-painters. In the principal’s view, even if those two strong-armed Deshawn into torching your house, someone pressured them first. It’s unlikely either one is our shooter. Apparently they talk big, but gossip among the students says that Heywood would opt out of the gang if he could. Roy Dell’s been heard to say he wishes he’d stayed in school. Louisville police still have our main suspect. They hope he’ll rat out a partner. What I’m doing is scrabbling for a reason to question Roy Dell and Heywood that won’t implicate Deshawn.”

“While you’re figuring that out, is there any chance you could meet me at the warehouse? Maybe in an hour? I looked it up online and the size and what it’ll sell for is perfect.”

“Can you wait until this afternoon? I received a summons a few minutes ago to be in family court at nine. Corrine’s lawyer got someone to take her complaint about the dangers of my job—and the town—seriously.” He sounded bitter.

“Then this isn’t the custody hearing Sadie told me about, where she and Koot will give character references on your behalf?”

“No. This is what I call a nuisance hearing. My ex doesn’t even have to attend. She made a complaint and her lawyer filed it.” Sky’s irritation vibrated through his statement. “I have to go with my attorney to register opposition, or the judge automatically rules in Corrine’s favor. I found that out the hard way in Maryland when I skipped a hearing I thought was nonsense. I’m convinced she and her lawyer sit around thinking up all this aggravating crap so they can drag me into court. Stuff they know takes me away from my job and costs me money because I have to pay my attorney. And if the judge rules in her favor, I get stuck paying court costs, too.”

“I know how that works, Sky. I used to help some of my single-mom clients get those types of complaints before a judge. We didn’t consider them frivolous. My preference in most cases was for the couple to meet without their lawyers and work out their differences rationally. I mean, if it’s a case like yours where there’s no history of child abuse, and both of you love Zachary and ultimately want what’s best for him, involving lawyers and courts just muddies the waters.”

“Now
you
sound like a lawyer, Annie. With Corrine and me, it’s gone beyond being able to talk. You heard her screaming at me on the phone. Do you call that rational?”

“I don’t know her, Sky, so I should have kept my opinion to myself. I seem to have difficulty doing that. My only excuse is that these are the kinds of situations I worked with a lot in L.A.”

“Yeah, well your name came up this time. You remember that our dispatcher told Corrine about the drive-by at your house and said I was there having dinner? Yesterday, Corrine was ticked to hear that I took Zack to one of your work sites. She says I’m irresponsible for allowing him to sand boards that might have had rusty nails in them. Oh, and giving him an orange soda was a cardinal sin as far as she and Archibald are concerned.”

“Why is she so angry at you, Sky?”

“Both the lawyer I had in Maryland, who was referred by the military, and my lawyer here asked that. I don’t know, so you’d have to ask her. I thought we had an okay marriage. Apparently she claimed I’d deserted her. Like I could tell the military I wasn’t going on tour. At one hearing her lawyer said she felt our marriage was a mistake and wanted out.”

“For Zack’s sake, you two should communicate. Otherwise, you can’t hope to build an amicable relationship.”

“We’re way past amicable. Listen, Annie, I need to run. I have to go by the station and make sure patrols are covered for the time I’m in court. You haven’t said if you can wait until later to check out that warehouse?”

“Okay. I’m picking up paint for the Dodd house in half an hour. Speaking of paint, did you get the folder from Mrs. Culver? You know,” she said thoughtfully, “a judge might like the fact that we’re upgrading Briar Run, and that you have plans to repaint your home. Once the work’s done, you can request another evaluation by a child welfare investigator.”

“What business is it of theirs where I live? I’m gainfully employed and I pay an inflated amount of child support every month. A family court judge combed through my military records and I submitted to a battery of psychological tests they claimed were necessary to prove I hadn’t come back with PTSD. What did Corrine’s new husband have to undergo? Nada!”

An uncomfortable silence ensued for several seconds.

“Uh, perhaps you should rethink that attitude, Sky.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my attitude.”

“It’s hostile,” Annie said evenly.

“For good reason,” he returned. “Listen, I really need to go. So, what about the warehouse this afternoon?”

“I think two o’clock should be fine. Call if you can meet me there. If I don’t hear from you by one-thirty, I’ll see if Sadie feels up to going. I intend to ask her to design the layout inside if I’m able to buy it.”

There was a lingering testiness in his reply. “I’ll be in touch.”

Annie held the phone longer than necessary after Sky had ended the call. She shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have commented on his family problems. All the years she’d worked with couples in similar cases should have taught her that when it came to divorce and child custody, very few people could be clearheaded about their own circumstances. Second marriages and stepfamilies added a whole other complicated dimension. Sky wasn’t one of her cases, and she should have better sense than to befriend someone mixed up in a custody battle.

Were they friends, she and Sky
? That thought knocked around inside her head as she backed out of her garage and drove to the hardware store. For a few minutes she reflected on the evolution of her relationship with Skylar Cordova.
Tense
and
heated
were words that described their early encounters. Friendlier, yet mercurial seemed to define their more recent exchanges. So why did they continue contacting each other?
That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, wasn’t it?

Luckily she arrived at the hardware store and was able to put those musings on a back burner.

Something stood out the minute she walked into the store where she’d been buying paint for over three weeks. Michael, the clerk who always rushed over to greet her, took off in the opposite direction. Brian Townsend, the store owner she’d negotiated prices with on her first visit, hurried toward her. And it wasn’t just her imagination that Brian was acting...nervous.

“Ms. Emerson, we don’t have the paint you requested.”

Ah, so that was the problem and no one wanted to admit it.
“That’s odd. I phoned in my order to Michael yesterday,” Annie said. “He verified that the moss green and ginger colors for the Dodd home were in stock and available, as was the coffee brown I said I’d get for their neighbor at the same time.”

Townsend started moving her along toward the front entrance. “I’m no longer handling that company’s paint. It’s a franchise matter,” he mumbled, distinctly anxious for her to leave.

She noticed that his gaze flicked everywhere but at her as he made his excuses. Annie braced a hand on the door casing, determined not to be hustled out. “It’s fortunate, then, isn’t it, that you stock other brands. I’m sure another company will have comparable colors, and we can negotiate a multiple gallon price. Mrs. Dodd’s choice isn’t out of the ordinary. But I will need a new brochure. I gave the others to home owners on the street where we’ll be working next.”