Dreams Claimed (Warfield's Landing, #1) (7 page)

He thought grimly that if this notebook was what he thought it was, he should be damn thankful that she’d agreed to see him in any context. He held up the notebook and asked, “You have a crank caller?”

She nodded.

“They were hang-ups until the phone call you just got?”

She nodded.

He flipped back and saw that she had written down what the caller had said. Daniel hadn’t been able to hear the other side of the call well. He had heard enough to know it was trouble. Now he read the ugliness and was appalled. “This was the first time he said anything?”

She nodded.

“I see you’ve been keeping good notes. Do you have any idea who this might be?”

She shook her head.

“Did you recognize the voice?”

She shook her head.

“Did you recognize the way he spoke?”

She shook her head.

“Have you called the police about this?”

She shook her head.

He paused. He hadn’t known her long, but he did know that his little artist was a strong woman. If he pushed her, she’d push back and that wasn’t what either of them needed at this point. He needed her to agree to start taking protective action, so he couched his suggestion carefully.

“This has been going on for about two months. You’ve done a good job documenting things, but now he, whoever he is, seems to have taken it to the next level. I think that this is the time to call the police. We,” he corrected himself, “You need to start getting formal documentation, and see what, if anything, they can do to help you.”

He searched her face, trying to figure out what she was thinking, but her expression was closed.

He decided to play the guilt card. “I’m leaving tonight on a business trip. I’ll be gone a week to ten days. We can talk on Skype but I’m worried about leaving you here. I’ll be less worried if you call the police.” He could tell guilt wasn’t working so he screwed his face into the caricature of a begging kid and added, “Pleeeeaaaase.”

That startled a laugh out of her, and she said, “Okay. I know you’re right about this. I guess that calling the cops makes it real and unavoidable. As long as it was hang-ups, I could ignore what was going on in between the phone calls. But this last one...” She shivered and shook her head. “It was scary.”

“So how do you want to work this?” He had her agreement, now he’d push to make sure that she followed through. “I don’t think that you ought to call the cops from your place. I don’t think that you should tip your hand. I’m leaving in a few hours or I’d take you back to my place and have you call from there.”

“Hmmm... How about you take me to Thomas and Karyn’s place? I can either call from there or make arrangements for one of them to go to the police station with me.”

“Alright. That sounds good. Why don’t you call them and tell them we’re on our way.”

“Yeah. I’ll find out if they’ll be at the office or at home and you can drop me off wherever.”

*****

D
aniel listened in on Nic’s call to her friends. From what he could tell, she’d called the husband. It seemed that he’d known about the phone calls and had been trying to convince Nic to call the police, as well.

He pulled into the parking lot beside the couple’s architectural office. A tall handsome man came striding out the door with a determined look on his face.

At 6” 2”, Daniel was often the tallest guy in the room, but Thomas Mallory put him to shame. The architect was a well put together 6’5”, maybe 6’6”. Dressed in casual work clothes, his brown hair sported a longer cut, with black framed glasses giving him a studious look.

Daniel looked past the mild exterior.  He figured Thomas was a nerd, right up until he took you down with a single blow. He made a vow to himself to avoid fighting the man. At this point, he was pleased to have someone so formidable looking after his little artist.

Nic was fumbling with her messenger bag and saying goodbye to Bentley, who had just woken up. Daniel climbed out of the car and moved forward to meet Thomas, his hand out stretched.

“Daniel Sterling.”

“Thomas Mallory.”

Thomas grabbed the proffered hand and held it firmly while he looked Daniel over. Daniel was aware that this was an important test. Thomas and his wife Karyn were like family to Nic.

Releasing Daniel’s hand, Thomas said, “So you’ve convinced her to go to the cops? I’ve been nagging her about it since the calls started but she refused.”

“He escalated today. I happened to overhear, so she couldn’t hide it any longer.”

Thomas shook his head. “She’s stubborn.”

“I’m on my way out of town tonight and I’ll be gone for a week or ten days. Otherwise, I’d be taking her home and making her call from there.”

“Karyn and I have a neighbor who’s an FBI agent. I took the liberty of running the situation past him. He’s got buddies in the Alexandria Police Department. He’ll call tomorrow morning to pave the way for us. We’ll have Nic spend the night with us tonight, then I’ll take her down to the Alexandria PD tomorrow morning.”

Daniel felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Thomas had everything under control.

“Excellent. Let me give you my cell number. Call me any time.” A look of understanding passed between the two men. Daniel was confident that Thomas would keep him in the loop.

N
ic was looking forward to today’s outing. She, Stevie, and Karyn were taking one of their monthly “Girls’ Day Out” expeditions.

She checked her minivan. She used it to move paintings so most of the seats had been removed and were in semi-permanent storage in Karyn and Thomas’ garage. The two front seats were there, and the single seat behind the driver.

They were going to eat out this time, so she just had a cooler with ice and drinks. Most of the time, they’d pack a picnic. She and Karyn laughed at each other, but the habits of being starving grad students and architectural interns were hard to break. Why buy when they could bring their own for much less?

She called Stevie. “Hey! I’m just leaving. I’ll be there shortly.”

She started the van and deftly backed out of her on street parking spot. Her apartment in Old Town Alexandria was small and quirky, but she was only 5’4”. She didn’t need ceilings taller than 7’. Along with a standard height ceiling, it was also missing off-street parking. After about two years in Old Town, she considered herself an expert parallel parker.

The last couple of days had been tough. On Wednesday, she, Daniel, and Bentley had visited Port Deposit. The day had been wonderful up until their ride back when she’d gotten the abusive phone call from her unknown what? She paused, considered, then decided to embrace the irony... admirer.

She’d spent that night with Thomas and Karyn. They’d come through for her big time over the years, and yesterday had been another one. They’d rearranged their work schedules so that Thomas could take her to the police station to report her caller.

Neither of them had strong expectations, but she knew that it was important to make it official. She’d continue with her documentation, but now there was an official record, if there was ever an opportunity to pursue things legally.

She pulled into a loading zone a few buildings away from Stevie’s apartment. Stevie was her usual bouncy self as she hopped into the front seat. She had her red hair pulled up on top of her head, to avoid the heat. “So where are we going?”

“We’re heading out to explore a little town on the Susquehanna River, Warfield’s Landing.”

Stevie laughed. “I’m geographically challenged. Exactly where is the Susquehanna?”

Nic slanted her a teasing glance. “And that my dear, is why we don’t let you drive on our “Girls’ Day Out” trips.”

“Hah! I happen to know you don’t let me drive because Karyn’s legs are too long to fit in my VW bug!”

This was an ongoing joke among the three of them. Nic was 5’4”, Stevie topped her by about three inches, but Karyn was a statuesque 5’10. Even sitting in the front seat of Stevie’s compact car, Karyn’s knees ended up near her ears.

Nic filled Stevie in on the trip to the Alexandria Police Department the day before while she drove from Alexandria into Arlington to pick up Karyn. She pulled into the parking lot of Mallory and Turner. Stevie climbed out of the front seat. Karyn tended to get carsick so she had front seat privileges. Stevie would ride in the seat behind the driver.

Karyn came out the front door. A statuesque brunette, she was casually but elegantly dresses, her dark hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. She was carrying three hard hats by their chin straps. Hers was pink. It had been a joke gift from Thomas when they officially opened their architectural practice. The other two were the standard safety yellow. She lifted them to shoulder height and wiggled them, getting Stevie’s and Nic’s attention.

One of the M and T Project Managers was walking with her. Karyn made a brief introduction, and he left.

“For once, I plan to be prepared. You mentioned an abandoned school?” This was directed to Nic. “No one will be climbing around and looking without the proper head gear.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Stevie was straight faced, with a deadpan delivery. Nic just smiled and shook her head.

Karyn put the hats in the back, beside the cooler, helped herself to a can of Diet Dr. Pepper and got in the front. She opened the can and held it aloft, giving their ceremonial toast. “To Girls’ Day Out.”

Nic and Stevie raised their diet drinks, echoing her... and they were off!

*****

A
s Nic merged in with the traffic heading north on I-95, Karyn pressed for details. "Tell us what you found out about the place!"

“I saw the building on Wednesday, when Daniel and I were across the river in Port Deposit. Last night, I had a chance to get online and find it. It IS for sale.”

Stevie leaned forward in her seat and put her hand on Nic’s seat. “Inquiring minds want to know... why are you thinking about spending Secret Stash on an old school?”

Stevie, Karyn, and Thomas were among the trusted few who knew about the millions that Nic had inherited from her famous artist father. So far, she hadn’t spent a penny of her inheritance.

Nic preferred to support herself, even if the first years out of grad school had been challenging. In the last couple of years, her painting had been gaining recognition and starting to sell. She’d had a small number of successful gallery shows, sold paintings through the gallery where Stevie worked, and sold an occasional painting off her website.

“Yeah... this is a big change for me. I haven’t made any firm decisions about it, but I’ve had some ideas floating around in my cluttered artist’s brain.” That got a laugh from both Stevie and Karyn.

"Seeing this school building across the river got me to thinking. The hardest transition for me to make as an artist was going from grad school to being a working and selling artist." She glanced in the rear view mirror at Stevie. "If you remember, we met while I was working at that ad agency in DC. The first couple of years out of grad school, it was a real balancing act to support myself and still be doing my art. That's where the school building comes in."

Karyn said, "I'm not sure what you're getting at here."

"To be honest, I'm not quite sure myself. I want to look at the school and see if it could be converted into living quarters and studio space for artists.” Nic paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

“I’m thinking that if we could provide a free place for artists to live and work, maybe including a stipend for food and other living expenses, freshly minted MFAs would be able to make the progression to working artist faster and less painfully.”

“So you’re thinking that this school could be converted into what... artist condos and studios?” Karyn sounded intrigued.

“That’s the idea.” Nic nodded. “While Warfield’s Landing seems like it’s off the beaten path, my online research shows that it has a small but vibrant downtown and gets a fair amount of tourist traffic. It’s very close to I-95. Richmond, Virginia; Washington DC; Baltimore; Wilmington, Delaware; and Philadelphia are all an easy drive. They’re not close enough to commute daily, but for appointments or short-term... it would be plenty doable.”

Excited, Stevie asked, “Are you thinking about having a gallery for the artists to display and show?”

Glancing in the rear view mirror, Nic smiled at Stevie. “Yeah. It would be similar to the Torpedo Factory, except that the artists would be fresh out of school and live there, as well as work there.”

“Would you have classes?” Karyn asked.

“Probably not, unless...” Nic thought as she spoke. “Maybe weekend art workshops? We’d need someplace for the participants to stay. We could bring in professional artists and let the artists in residence participate, along with offering spots to the general public.”

“So you’re thinking living space, studio space, classroom space, and gallery space?” Karyn was clearly intrigued.

“That would be the ideal situation. Obviously, it depends on the building and there are a lot of details to work out, even before we can tell if it’s feasible.”

“Now that would make it worth dipping into the Secret Stash.” Stevie nodded her head emphatically and slid back into her seat.

*****

T
hey’d made good time. Nic wheeled the minivan off and under the interstate, following the signs for Warfield’s Landing. The road, called Tumpline Road, ran alongside the Susquehanna River on the right.

“What on earth is a Tumpline?” Karyn asked.

Stevie laughed and sat forward again. “I know,” she teased.

“How?” Karyn asked as she and Nic exchanged grins.

“Fourth grade. I wrote a report on American Indians. A Tumpline is a strap worn over the head. You can carry heavy things with it because it distributes the weight using the spine.” She looked back and forth at Nic and Karyn who were staring at her, silent.

“What? What?” At that, the other two burst out laughing and being a good sport, Stevie joined in. “Just wait until you have to carry a heavy sack. You’ll be begging me for advice!” That sent all three of them into another bout of laughter.