Saving Grace (Madison Falls) (9 page)

She absentmindedly wiped the counter. “So, what brings you here?”

A sly smile played around the edges of his lips. “I felt the call of the wild.”

She quirked an eyebrow.

“Seriously, I needed a break from the pressure. I just felt like I was missing something in New York. I mean, the money is great there, but I started to miss that grassroots artistry you get in a smaller community.”

She allowed a long look at his face. Having heard people talk that way many times, she’d never actually met anyone who had walked away from a lucrative career in search of true art. Her gaze narrowed. “You wanted artistry so you came
here?
”

His chuckle was almost lyrical. “I know it sounds strange, but this place has renewed my spirit. This is my third show here, and it’s changed my life. I’m very grateful I found Madison Falls, for reasons I would find
difficult
to explain.”

Grace twisted the towel. That sounded benevolent and all, but had he really said goodbye to the high life in favor of the simple life? “But you said you were anxious to return home.”

“What can I say?” He smiled. “True art doesn’t support many luxury vacations.”

She lobbed back his smile. “So what are you doing here tonight, Mr. Sinclair? Besides prowling for coffee, I mean.”

He lifted a hold-on finger before disappearing for a moment behind the bottom half of the door. When he stood, he placed the black Prada briefcase on the counter and clicked it open. “I’m here for the express purpose of posting this.” He handed a crisp sheet of white paper across the counter.

She wiped her hands on her jeans before taking the paper. “Ah, the cast list.”

“Excuse me…
revised
cast list.” His eyes teased.

She glanced at the sheet, mollified by what she saw. “A wise choice. Ruby’s going to be just great.”

“I have every confidence.” He flashed a playful smile. “By the way…”

She looked into his silvery-blue eyes. “Yes?”

“I’m waiting to hear about a directing gig with the New York Grand Opera. If I get it, I’ll be auditioning singers. Would you be interested?”

She sucked in her breath. “Me? I—”

“I wondered where you went.” A harsh female voice sliced into her answer.

Grace’s head snapped toward the hallway as Sophia marched toward them, eyes ablaze. Couldn’t the woman see she was interrupting?

Devon reached out for Sophia, as if she was a boat needing to be guided into port. “Ah, yes. I was waiting for you.” His eyes returned to Grace. “I assume you’ve met Sophia?”

“Not really.” Grace lifted her hand.

Sophia flashed a smug look, ignoring Grace’s offer to shake. “You must be the new concessions girl.” She looked up at Devon, her expression shifting. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” He took Grace’s hand, which Sophia had left untouched, and brushed his lips across the back of it.

A tingle danced up her arm.

Sophia’s eye’s bore into her but Grace didn’t care. Devon winked, then looked at Sophia and opened his palm toward the door. Sophia arched her overly-shaped eyebrows and turned to go. Devon followed.

Grace rolled her tired eyes. A smile moved across her face, then quickly leveled to a scowl.

Devon had left the theatre with Sophia. Was that what he’d meant by ‘staying with a friend’?

Chapter 13

“You lied to me.”

“What?” Grace’s heart bumped against her chest cavity with what seemed like an audible
thump
. She pretended to focus her attention on the table of rummage sale goods in front of her.

“You heard me.” Lucy folded her arms, scanning the load of furniture in the back of her husband Bob’s pickup. “You said you weren’t much of a decorator. Look at how all these pieces are going to work together. You have a good eye. You really ought to give yourself more credit.”

“Oh.” Grace took in a breath of relief. She
had
lied, but about more than just her knack for matching upholstery patterns.

“The least we can do—and by ‘we’ I mean Bob—is to set up the dinette set.” Lucy blew Bob a kiss as he climbed into the cab of the truck. “I can’t believe you weren’t even going to put a table in there.”

Grace tipped a shrug.

“Or that you don’t have a bed.” Lucy said. “For goodness sakes, no one over the age of twelve should be expected to spend more than one night on a cot. Bob will have our extra frame all set up by the time you get home.”

A current of guilt flowed through Grace. Lucy had been so kind to her, with no apparent expectation of anything in return. “I appreciate all your help, Lucy.”

“It’s my pleasure. You know,” Lucy sifted through a bin of used handbags. “Now that you have all that chic furniture, you need have to do something about those antiseptic walls.”

Grace raised a shoulder. She was content with the neutrality of the house and saw no reason to change it.

Lucy continued, her tone tentative. “So, I’ve been thinking…. Please don’t feel like you have to say ‘yes’.”

Grace clenched her jaw. There was nothing like that phrase to make a person feel obligated.

“I’ve been praying for you, and the Lord told me I should offer to host a paint party.”

Grace wavered at both the offer and its presentation. Lucy had seemed normal when they’d met a few days before, but this was kind of peculiar. What did she mean the Lord told her? Who did she think she was, Moses?

“It’s perfect.” Lucy seemed to take her silence as a sign of assent. “You could settle in and get acquainted with people at the same time.”

“Oh…n…no. Really, I’m fine.” Grace stumbled over her words, wanting desperately to squelch Lucy’s enthusiasm. If there was one thing she wanted less than to settle in, it was to get cozy with the townsfolk.

Lucy gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s not like we’re implying that you’re a charity case, but I know it costs a lot to paint a whole house. Everybody can pitch in and it’ll be our way of saying ‘welcome’.”

Grace let out the breath that should have voiced a
fortissimo
refusal, but Lucy was so sincere, she had to give in. “That sounds nice. Thank you.”

“Great then, it’s settled.” A satisfied look on her face, Lucy pulled a beaded evening bag from the bottom of the bin. “Bingo!”

Grace looked around, surprised at the quality of the merchandise here. What she’d expected to be a junk sale had turned out to be more like a vintage treasure hunt.

She looked at the park-like setting of the Life in Christ Church and allowed her mind to drift back. Not long ago she would have observed a sun-drenched Saturday morning like this with a run through Central Park. Her heart warmed with the memory. It had been one of her favorite activities before it had become unsafe for her to go alone. In the later days, before she’d given it up altogether, it had comforted her to believe she was in training for a quick getaway.

She squinted up at the leaves rustling overhead and the sky beyond. Her eye caught the towering blue church steeple which glistened as the sun attempted to hide behind it. Then her gaze fell on the church itself, a picturesque white concoction that brought to mind images of a wedding cake. Not only did the building itself resemble fluffily frosted pastry, but the covered porch conjured up an image of romance. She could picture an old fashioned bride and groom emerging from the carved doors and being showered by rice as they descended the extensive stairs. She’d never been much for church herself, but this one seemed inviting.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Lucy must have read her thoughts.

“Beautiful. I feel like Anne of Green Gables.”

“That’s just about the right era. The main part was built in 1888, but we’re especially proud of the addition.”

Grace tilted her head in an attempt to see around the building. “There’s an addition?”

“You can’t tell, can you? The board wanted to replace the building about seven years ago because the church had outgrown it. Bob went to them with a plan to add on instead. It looks like it was made this way to begin with.”

“You mean, Bob
did
this?”

“He’s a contractor. His specialty is making new construction match old fashioned style. If you ever want to add on to your house, build up a story or anything, he’s your guy.”

The thought implied a commitment to her house that Grace knew she’d never have, but it intrigued her nonetheless. “That sounds tough. Do people really do that?”

“We did. Our house used to be a little bungalow like yours. Remember, if you ever need anything fixed, I’ll send Bob right over.” Lucy looked like a proud mother regarding the church.

Suddenly, her smile evaporated, and she let out a breath so loud Grace’s head jerked to follow her gaze.

“Oh, great.” Lucy’s tone grew ominous. “Remember I promised to tell you which guys to avoid?”

Grace wouldn’t have needed the warning. The dead ringer for Kirk seemed to repel the crowd like a leper as he strutted through it. “Who is he?”

Lucy tsked. “Well, it depends on who you want to believe.”

Grace instinctively wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m not much for gossip.”

“Me either.” Lucy said. “But it’s hard to stand by and say nothing in the face of pure evil.”

“Evil?” Grace shuddered. “That sounds daunting.”

Lucy blew out a restrained sigh. “Too bad guys like that are sneaky enough not to get caught.”

“Caught?” Grace’s stomach tightened. “Doing what?”

Lucy’s voice grew low and dark, like a brewing storm. “I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t know it to be true.”

Grace took a slight step closer, intent on catching every word.

“His name is Carson. We know about him because he’s luring in a friend of ours. Someone who’s always been a really good guy. A family man.”

Grace felt a shiver in spite of the heat of the day. “Luring him in? That sounds scary.”

“I’ll say.” Lucy tipped her head toward Grace, her tone confidential. “See, this friend has been really worried about money. You know how when people get desperate, they can be extra vulnerable?”

“Especially where money’s concerned.” Grace flinched at the reminder of how easily people were influenced by Kirk when he wielded his wallet. “So, what do you think is going on?”

“That’s where this guy Carson comes in. I hate to believe it, but this friend of ours hasn’t been himself lately. One minute he’s normal, then he’ll flip out, like Jekyll and Hyde. We’re so afraid—”

“You think your friend is dealing drugs?” The words tumbled out of Grace’s mouth practically before she knew she’d made the connection. Money…uncharacteristic behavior…she’d seen the pattern before.

Lucy’s eyes teared. “He won’t talk about it, but we’re pretty certain. It’s bad, Grace. We all care about him, but he’s heading down a destructive road. His wife is beside herself.”

Lucy’s words pricked at Grace’s heart. “That’s so sad.”

Lucy nodded. “I’m worried about their kids. Nice Christian family.”

“Oh?” That seemed like an odd contradiction. Then again, she’d known lots of so-called Christians who hid an abundance of unseemly behavior behind a cloak of piousness.

“It doesn’t seem right, does it?” Lucy shook her head. “The Holy Spirit guides us, but we still have free will. It’s easy for people to follow their own desires especially when they’re tempted by money.”

Disgust swelled in Grace’s stomach. Money and greed did terrible things to people all on their own. She hated to think what could happen when drugs got added to the mix. “Is there anything you can do for your friend?”

“What can you do when someone can’t be reasoned with? We pray for him every day.”

Grace sighed. That was nice, but it didn’t seem very helpful.

Silence held for a moment before Lucy drew back her shoulders. “It’s almost my turn to man our table, but I think you should look around some more. You never know what buried treasure you might dig up.”

Grace smiled a goodbye to Lucy and looked around. What else did she have to do while she waited to go to work? Besides, this was the kind of shopping she could afford.

Wandering through the crowd, she cast a glance at the line-up of folding tables piled high with wares.

“Grace!”

The unexpected sound of her assumed name drew her around. There sat Spritz in a tangerine top as cheerful as her wave. Grace let out a pleased breath, darting across oncoming foot traffic to get to her.

“Are you settling in?” Spritz leaned forward in her folding chair. “I’ve been so worried about that floor. Has Sam taken care of it for you?”

“Sam?” She fended off a shiver of annoyance. “Oh, he, uh…stopped by.”

“Good. He’s the best.”

Grace struggled to keep her expression neutral. She looked down at a display of vibrant baby sweaters on the table next to Spritz. “These are gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Spritz looked humble. “It’s a good way to keep my hands busy when I’m on the phone at work.”

“They’re hand knit?” Grace ran her fingers over the soft garments, flicking over a tiny white tag. She gasped. “Did you mean to price them so low? You could get ten times this.”

Spritz’s face flushed as rosy as the half-done sweater she held in her lap.

“Seriously, Spritz.” Grace lifted one of the tiny garments for a closer examination. “I saw some just like this for forty-nine bucks in a shop on Madison Avenue.” Her cheeks heated as she caught herself. Was the Madison in Seattle an avenue or a street?

Spritz tittered, apparently oblivious to Grace’s gaffe. “There’s a world of difference between Madison Falls and Madison Avenue.”

Grace gulped. She had to be more careful.

“Oh my goodness.” Her eyes lit on a gleaming ray of silver hope. A shining cube the size of a microwave glinted in the morning sun, taunting her with a promised end to her regimen of mud and Nescafé. “Is that for sale?”

“I’ll say. I can’t wait to get rid of that thing.” Spritz stood, crossing to the commercial espresso machine which sat atop a TV tray a few feet away. “It’s been taking up space in our office for months.”

Grace ran her hand across the smooth metal surface. “How much?”

“Ten dollars and it’s yours.”