From the Grounds Up (20 page)

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Authors: Sandra Balzo

Tags: #Cozy Mystery

BOOK: From the Grounds Up
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'Would there be records?' I asked.

'We'll see. Do you have any idea when this Hitchcock film festival was?'

'Caron didn't say,' I said. 'Is it important?'

'Probably not,' Pavlik said. 'I'm just curious. Patricia Harper decided to take control of her life in Brookhills. I wonder whether seeing
Marnie
triggered that.'

'And opening up to Caron,' I said. 'Maybe it freed Patricia in some way.'

'I'll see what I can find out about her early life and anything current on the sister. Do you know what Patrice's last name is? She's married, right?'

'Right. And I don't know if she took her husband's surname or not.'

'I'll be able to find out easily enough,' Pavlik said, and I could hear his pen scratching across the paper as he made a note. 'You do know that even if a child is abused, it doesn't naturally follow that he or she will become abusive later on.'

'But the statistics—'

'Most statistics cite the percentage of abusers and child molesters who were abused as kids themselves. That's not the same as the percentage of victims who eventually victimize others. And we don't even know how many children are abused. It's vastly under-reported.'

'That's not exactly reassuring.'

'I know. What have you said to Sarah?'

'Nothing. I wanted to talk to you first.'

'Good. We don't want her going off half-cocked.' I could hear him tapping his pen on the pad now. 'I was going to suggest that I come over tonight, but maybe you should be with Sarah.'

Again the concern over Sarah. I was worried, too, but I had a feeling Pavlik had more basis for it than I did. I'd wring it out of him tonight. Maybe even make him go off half-cocked.

'Sarah's cousin Ronny--or step-cousin, really--is watching over her.'

'You mean Kornell Eisvogel's son? I saw his name as next-of-kin in the reports.'

'Right. He's going into partnership with Sarah and me in the new place.'

'Really?' Pavlik's voice got playful. 'I think I'm jealous. What does he have that I don't?'

'Money,' I said, matching his tone, 'and neon green polyester pants. How do you measure up?'

'Negative on the first two, but I think otherwise I measure up pretty well.'

'That you do,' I said, getting twinges--and I don't mean of guilt. 'Why don't you come over about seven? We'll have dinner and a sleep-over.'

'Is Frank going to be there?'

Since I knew Pavlik loved Frank, I wasn't sure how to answer that. Sheepdog as nuisance or sheepdog as incentive. But I hadn't been in public relations for all those years and learned nothing. 'He will be, at the appropriate moments.'

'But not the inappropriate, huh?' Pavlik's voice was low. 'Sounds perfect.'

'To me, too,' I said. 'See you at seven.'

'Yes, you will.' He hung up.

I held the flip phone to my heart for a moment before I hung up, too.

Thud-thud. Thud-thud.

I jumped.

'You OK?' Ronny asked from outside the car. 'You've been sitting out here for a while.'

Sarah's cousin was wearing a purple and white striped long-sleeved T-shirt, flowered suspenders and jeans. The jeans had a peace sign embroidered on the front pocket and a double strand of beads as a belt.

Who knew Ronny was a beads-and-suspenders type of person?

'I just stopped by to see how things were going,' I said, getting out of the Escape. 'Wow, you look—'

'Like Ronald McDonald after a bender.' Sarah was waiting for us in the recliner on the porch.

I sized up the outfit from his platform shoes to . . .'The orange Afro might be a bit much,' I told him.

'You think?' He pulled it off and patted down his brown hair. 'I don't want overdo it.'

'Heaven forbid,' Sarah said dryly. She seemed more herself today. Bitter, cynical, sarcastic. In other words, reassuringly normal.

'So did you two go over the plans last night?' I asked as we reached the front of the building.

Before they could answer, I stopped short. 'Ronny, you fixed the steps.'

'It didn't take long,' he said, modestly. 'I replaced the planking on the deck, too.'

'We can walk to the door without edging around the hole,' I said appreciatively. 'Thank you so much.'

'You don't have to thank him,' Sarah said. 'Ronny's one of us now. We can treat him like crap.'

Yes. Definitely the Return of the Emotionally Prodigal Sarah.

'We cannot,' I said, taking Ronny's arm. 'He is contributing seventy-five thousand dollars plus his expertise. We will treat him like a king.'

'I only do the twentieth century,' Ronny said with a straight face. 'Royalty isn't my thing.'

Good to know.

Having found Ronny impervious to insult, Sarah turned on me. 'He's contributing money and his contracting work. I'm contributing the building. What do you bring to the table?'

'The tables themselves, for one thing, plus whatever else we salvaged from Uncommon Grounds. Caron doesn't want any of it.'

'So you talked to her?' Ronny asked eagerly. 'What did she say?'

'Caron's happy to be free and clear,' I said with a shrug. 'She wishes us well, but is absolutely thrilled to be able to sleep in and take her yoga classes at reasonable hours.'

It was true, as far as it went. And I didn't intend to go any further, either with Caron's confidences about their financial state or with what she'd told me about Patricia's family.

'Great,' Ronny said with a huge smile. Then he tried to temper it. 'I mean, I'm sorry she's not going to be working with us and all.'

'Even if she had,' I assured him, 'we wouldn't be jettisoning you. We're very, very lucky to have you.'

The smile got bigger.

'Can we stop this love-fest and talk business?' Sarah said sourly. 'Ronny, did you tell me you're having an agreement drawn up?'

'I did.'

'Oh, good,' I said. 'I didn't even see Bernie.'

'No worry. I called a lawyer friend and he's putting a partnership contract together. We should have it to read over on Monday.'

This being Friday, that sounded just right.

'Oh,' Ronny continued. 'You asked earlier whether Sarah and I went over the plans.'

I'd forgotten. 'And did you?'

'We did. They're fine,' Sarah said. 'What do I know about this stuff anyway?'

'Which is the other thing that I'm contributing,' I said, sticking out my chest. 'My expertise.'

'Right. Like you knew anything about coffee eighteen months ago. Have Tien and Amy looked at the layout?'

'Tien has, but not Amy. I can drop off a copy to her.' I looked around. 'What's the agenda for today?'

'I'm meeting with the electrician and plumber to get an estimate,' Ronny said. 'Depending on what they come up with, we may want to change our thinking.'

'In what way?'

'If some electrical and plumbing can be salvaged, then it's going to be a lot cheaper to keep the appliances and sinks in the same area, rather than moving them.'

'And if not?'

'Then we can put things wherever we want.'

Well, that didn't sound so bad.

'Because,' Ronny said, 'it's going to cost a fortune anyway to rewire and re-plumb the place. Might as well do things the way we want them.'

'Good thing it's your fortune,' Sarah said.

'Maybe I'll hold off on taking the plans over to Amy until we see what the electrician and plumber say.' I fished my car keys out of a pocket. 'Is there anything else I can do here that's helpful?'

I was hoping to clean the house this afternoon and do a little shopping toward Pavlik's visit. Oh, and change the sheets.

Also, on a more serious note, I wanted to call Caron and find out what advice Bernie had given her.

'Nope,' Sarah said.

'I can't think of anything either,' Ronny said. 'Except maybe make a list of what you've been able to save from the old place. And the lawyer wants the deed in order to draw up the papers, along with proof of the seventy-five thousand dollars from me.'

'Gotcha on the inventory,' I said. 'Most of the stuff is in Caron's garage.'

'I'll get the deed today,' Sarah said. 'And you should do likewise on your proof of funds, Ronny. The banks are closed tomorrow.'

She turned to me. 'Maggy, why don't you have Tien and Amy meet us here Monday afternoon. That way, if we need to make changes, we can all brainstorm them together.'

'Great idea,' Ronny said. 'They are our team, after all.'

'Which means they should come to us, rather than us going to them,' Sarah said pointedly.

Admittedly I was a lousy boss. With Caron gone, I'd have to do better. Or best yet, I could let Sarah play bad-boss. I was a classic wimpy-boss.

'What are you doing today?' I asked Sarah, glad that she seemed to be taking charge of her life, and ours, again. 'Going to the office?'

'Nope,' she said, standing up. 'I'm looking at cars, then to the bank and, finally, to see a lawyer.'

'That's terrific.' I was genuinely delighted. 'But isn't Ronny handling the agreement?'

'Not that kind of lawyer,' Sarah said. 'A family law attorney. I'm not letting that Cape Cod woman take my kids without a fight.'

Chapter Twenty-One

Buoyed by Sarah's current attitude, I practically skipped down the sidewalk.

'Good news?' a male voice asked. Writer Michael Inkel was standing to the side of the driveway, nearest the florist. 'You guys sure deserve it. What a stretch of tough luck you've had.'

'I think things are starting to look up.' I certainly was, the guy being a foot taller than me. And probably fifteen years younger. I tried not to let the latter depress me. 'What are you doing on the wrong side of the street?'

'Sometimes I venture over here,' he said. His eyes were hazel, I thought. A golden green. Or a greeny gold. Whatever, they were mighty fine to look at. 'I've even been known to stray to the other side of the tracks.'

I hesitated, not sure if he was hitting on me or looking to buy drugs.

Michael pointed to the railroad crossing. 'Joke bad, brain hurt.'

I laughed. 'Sorry to be obtuse.'

'Hey, you're entitled. You've had a tough few days. Let's hope it's all downhill from here.'

'That expression has always confused me,' I admitted to the writer. 'When people "go downhill,' it means they're getting worse.'

'True,' Michael said, thinking about it. 'But in this case it means the worst is over. You've reached the top and now you can coast."

'Coasting down, because things are looking up. Crazy.' I shook my head, which was starting to hurt. 'We're having the plumbing and electrical checked out today.'

'Good luck with that. Our building was built just after yours. Every time we turn around there's another expense.'

'Please don't tell me that.' I didn't want to lose my high.

'Don't get me wrong,' Michael said. 'They're great buildings and once the commuter train starts running, we'll all have plenty of money to do repairs and maintenance.' He pointed toward the florist shop behind him. 'I just wish they would have been able to hold out.'

'How long ago did they close?' I asked.

'Maybe a year now?' he said. 'A damn shame.'

'Were they good?' I asked. Given what they'd left behind, my implied compliment was hard to imagine.

'Some people thought so.' Rebecca Penn came up behind Michael and linked arms with him possessively.

An apologetic smile from Michael. 'We did their advertising. They left us with a bunch of media bills.'

'
Some
body,' Rebecca said, 'was too trusting.'

From her intonation, I was pretty sure the 'somebody' wasn't Rebecca. 'Who ran the shop?' I asked.

'A woman from Madison.' Rebecca was tugging Michael away.

'Any idea what will go in there?'

'Anybody's guess,' Michael said. 'It's not a great time to rent out space, but I think things in the Junction will do all right.' He crossed his fingers. 'Or at least I hope so.'

'Me, too.' I watched them walk back toward their studio, a big smile on my face.

If a babe like Rebecca was worried about her significant other talking to me, I was feeling mighty good. And, therefore, it was time to get ready for my own date.

But, duty call before booty call. I telephoned Caron.

'I'm so relieved Sarah is taking charge of the situation,' she said.

'Me, too. She was acting so unlike herself. Just letting things happen and not hitting back. Now she's back to female wolverine.'

'Maybe the drugs kicked in,' Caron said.

I laughed. 'Not to worry. She tested clean and the police released her. Oh, and I think the white powder they found in the car was baking flour, anyway.'

Silence at the other end. Then, 'What are you talking about?'

I'd forgotten Caron had no way of knowing about either the white powder in the Firebird or Sarah's subsequent arrest.

I filled her in quickly.

'Interesting,' she said, 'and a little bizarre. But I was talking about her meds.'

'Meds? What is she taking?' I knew Sarah seemed depressed, but I didn't realize she'd seen a doctor. It was uncharacteristically wise of her.

'I don't know exactly, but we go to the same doctor. I ran into her a couple of weeks ago and she had a bag of samples.'

'If you didn't see them, how do you know they were drugs?'

'The nurses always put a few samples in a brown bag, like the kind you pack kids' lunches in? They do it to tide you over until you can fill the real prescription.'

'Maybe Sarah has an infection and they were antibiotics.'

'Maggy, you don't go to a psychiatrist for antibiotics.'

Had me there. 'What did Bernie say about Sam and Courtney?' I asked.

Caron tsk-tsked. 'Let's just say I'm glad Sarah is getting legal advice.'

'Let's just say you're going to be more explicit.' Caron tended to the cryptic side at times. I didn't have the patience for it today.

She sighed. 'Fine. Essentially, Bernie knows squat about custody. He gave me a couple of names of family law specialists to give her. Do you know who Sarah's seeing?'

'She didn't say, and I was so happy to hear it, I didn't think to ask. Did Bernie tell you anything else?'

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