Scandal (18 page)

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Authors: Patsy Brookshire

Tags: #Quilting, #Romantic Suspense, #Murder - Investigation, #Contemporary Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Romance, #Women's Fiction

BOOK: Scandal
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The change of seasons, Fall to Autumn, Spring to Summer brings chemical changes that are
felt by us, an energizing need to move towards the coming change. In Spring we build, dig and plant,
reveling in the smell of opening up to the outdoors to nest. Now, with the nip of autumn I welcome
another blanket on my bed, gather and store the harvest, stack wood against the winter. Sam had
helped with the winter wood, so I was good there.

Purpose and expectation. Eventually these two feelings took me from my bed. I stretched
and thought of doing a few minutes of yoga before coffee, but Prince Charming was twining around
my legs and I gave over to him. I swept him into my arms where he tried to nuzzle underneath my
chin, which made me giggle. I was on the move so he squiggled to get down, hitting the wooden
floor with a thump. I followed him to his feeding place, found the water low and bits of dry cat food
scattered around the dish. I replenished the dishes while he pranced around, mewing.

He happily tucked into his breakfast while I attended to my coffee and Sam's Cheerios, with
a side of raisin toast with cream cheese. I sat at the kitchen window, looking over the lawn to the
trees and the river. While I munched I listened to my phone messages. Four of them.

Len: "Annie, are you there? I'd hate to think you are listening to this while in the arms of
the fire chief. Oh, I forgot, you weren't flirting with him. Just kidding. If you find time in your busy
schedule call me. I know you have my number."

Fire Chief: "Mrs. Straw, I'm chagrinned to admit that I have your garage door opener.
Forgot to hand it back to you the other evening after your flue fire. Please call and tell me when it is
convenient for me to drop it by, or you can pick it up at the station." He left his cell number.

"Chagrinned?" Sounded like a voice from an old English novel. Intriguing, a man of
language.

Len again: "Annie, I have news. Call me."

The fourth was from the Gladstone library. A book on tape was overdue. I'd finished it on
the way home last night, so I'd take it in today. Go to the fire station while I'm in town? Or call the
cell number? Hmm, a small flutter?

I was going to have to call Len, but decided I needed to walk down to the picnic table before
I did anything else.

I refilled my coffee cup, with Prince Charming following every move I made. We had
walked only a few steps out of doors before I felt the chill. "Go chase a leaf or something. I'll be right
back." I fetched my beloved sweater, the wool one with sheep on the pockets. Warmer, I walked the
brick path to the table above the river. Prince rushed across the lawn to scare a couple robins into
the trees.

The crispness of the air sent a tiny shiver through me. Prince played with a leaf picked up
by the light wind. There were more leaves on the lawn than just a couple days ago. I sat on the
bench and leaned back against the table, watching the river.

I recalled the last time Roger and I had sat here, him tired and weak, me aching with his
pain, unable to do much beyond be there. I switched off the melancholy that threatened to
overwhelm me, because it felt more like something I
should
feel than what I was really
feeling. I wanted to live in today, not the past.

Vitalized, I made the first call of the day. It was early but I wanted to reach Len before he
went out.

He answered, his voice thick with sleep, "Whoa, Annie. Do you realize it's only a little after
seven o'clock? A.M.?"

"It's daylight. I thought you'd be catching shots of the sunrise."

"Funny." He made a quick recovery. "Want breakfast? My place? I have eggs and bacon, can
do something fancy if you want."

"Oh, gosh, Len, thanks, but no thanks. I've already eaten. Out here on the river it's late,
nearly midmorning. The birds have already forgotten first light. I'm just getting back to you, and
wondering what news you have. I have some for you, too. You'll never believe what went down last
night."

"I'm in the show. Officially."

"What show?"

"Don't be stupid. The Willamina Quilt Show, of course. With
Tumbling Blocks
. The
one that won a blue at the State Fair."

"Well, for Pete's sake, Len. That's cool. You'll probably be competing with me, but I don't
expect to be any real competition, for now. Besides, mine is a combo quilt, designed and partially
executed by Aunt Sophie, but re-designed and finished by me. So how do you like them
apples?"

"I don't think I'm going to worry about you as a competitor, not a quilting competitor at
least."

"Len, you say the nicest things. Thank you for reminding me of why we're not together
anymore." What a jerk. And me such a fool for being attracted to his sexy ways and cute looks. No
wonder he wasn't married any more, if he was as push me-pull you with her as with me. I found
interesting that bit he said about us being in competition. Therein was the problem.

I didn't want to compete with my mate, I wanted to walk side by side with him, with us
helping each other as needed, not always looking to see who was ahead. His cute butt had made me
forget why we'd ended the first time. But I had encouraged him, had to admit it. Now, how to bring
us to a place of friends, not at odds or angry with each other. I didn't want anger, but could welcome
an old friend.

He wasn't done. "I have something else in the show too. A surprise. Those people like me,
so I'm giving them more than
Tumbling Blocks
."

Right now was not the time for The Discussion of Lover to Friend.

"Len, let me tell you about yesterday. Lena confessed to killing Magda's husband, and
burying him in the backyard of their studio."

"I must say, I'm not surprised that her sharp tongue killed someone. Tell me."

I did. That took me until the sun had moved from behind the hills to shining highlights on
the ripples in the shallows. I signed off with him, saying I needed to do some housekeeping before I
went back to Willamina tomorrow. I declined his offer to accompany me. Back in the house I put in
a load of wash, gave the house a lick and a promise, refilled the cat's dishes and left extra water and
food in case I was gone a couple of days.

With chores done, I called the fire chief. It was nine-thirty by then. I figured any
self-respecting fireman would be up.

He was.

I launched into who I was, but he stopped me.

"You're the woman with the flue fire. Certainly I remember you. I still have your garage
door opener. I'm embarrassed, but I wanted to be sure your house didn't shoot to a full blaze."

"No, thanks to you. It's all good."

"Did you find your cat? Is he well? He had an unusual name, 'Charmer'?"

"Close. Prince Charming. Yes, he's fine. But I need my opener. I've got another one, but I
don't know where it is"

"I'll bring it by today if you will be home."

"Give me a time and I'll be here. No commitments today other than to keep the cat
company, maybe rake the lawn."

"Eleven?"

"Agreed. Or, I could come in and get it from the station."

"No need, I don't go into work until one. That'll give me plenty of time."

He was right on time. I was expecting the fire hat and coat, but he was dressed in a brown
sweater over a blue-flowered Hawaiian shirt, with brown slacks. Light hiker boots. No hat. A nice
mix of casual and ready-to-work. In his right hand he had a white sack.

He answered my greeting with, "I've got your door opener." He handed it to me. "And I
brought a little something to go with coffee, if you have time." A sparkle of humor in his warm,
golden brown eyes.

I bit back a response of having all the time he needed and invited him in. The door opener
was warm from his pocket, and I enjoyed the feel of it in my hand, a gentle intimacy.

In the kitchen I busied myself making a fresh pot of coffee while he looked around.

"Cheerful room. It feels wonderfully open with these windows. Mind if I sit down?"

"Please do." I opened the sack. Large cinnamon rolls, two of them. "Maple frosting. I love
these but never buy them, too much of an indulgence. How sweet of you."

"Not as sweet as they'll be. I figured I have to make it up to you, after stealing your opener.
I've never walked off with private property before." He handed me another one of his cards. Daniel
Dee. "Call me Dan."

"I'm Annie. Welcome to my kitchen."

I poured our coffee and dressed our plates with the rolls. I cut into the sweet roll and took a
bite. "Gosh, this is good, where did you get it?"

He named the local bakery, run by his cousin, "But she doesn't give me a discount. Not
anymore. I buy too many of them."

I wondered if he has other women he takes them to, and felt a twinge of jealousy.
Silly,
this man isn't in any way mine. His honest face can't belong to a Romeo. Please not.

I'd noticed a faint resemblance to a mature Harrison Ford who I will forever see swinging
across the void clutching a terrified Princess Leia. Dan's eyes sparkled with humor and wrinkles
appeared when laughed. Good hair, originally auburn? The red highlights were now graying.
Looking at him, I felt emboldened to follow my intuition that nothing happens by accident.

"Would you like to come to dinner tonight? You fed me." I cut another bite of the roll, "I'll
feed you." I could barely believe I'd said it. Suddenly struck, I said, "You're not married are
you?"

He laughed. "No. I was once but that's been some years ended. She wanted greener
pastures than a fireman could give her, I guess. No girlfriend, either. Are you suggesting a dinner
date?"

Now I was shy. "Just saying. I haven't been in town very much lately and like to know my
local firemen. Never can tell when such a contact could be handy!"

He laughed as I put the light spin on my forwardness. "I get it now! You think if you feed me
dinner I'll clean your chimney. Everybody's looking for a discount!" He got the coffee pot, refilled
both our cups.

Whew, I thought I'd scared him off.

"I'd love to eat dinner with you, but not tonight. I'm working the long shift tonight.
Tomorrow?"

"I won't be here tomorrow. I'm working on a project in Willamina, a quilt project with my
cousin and some friends." That was certainly skimming the cream from the truth. "I'll be there for
the next couple of days. And then I must check in with The Prince."

He looked at me over his cup. "The Prince?"

"My cat. The one that was locked in the garage during the chimney fire. I have a neighbor
who usually looks in for me but she's out of town right now, so I'll need to come back in a couple of
days."

"Tell you what." He took his cup, plate and utensils to the sink, gave them a quick rinse and
set them on the counter. "You're busy, I'm not so much so right now. Let me make sure I've got your
cell number in my phone, and we'll be in touch over the next couple of days. Okay? Now, I've got to
go to work."

We did the number business, and I walked him to the door. "What are you doing for the
rest of today, while I'm slaving over a hot fire engine?"

"Prince and I have leaves to rake, laundry to finish, and for me, a trip to the library. Early to
bed tonight for an early morning tomorrow."

He said, "I'll go past the library on my way to work if you want me to drop off something.
"

I gave him the CD's and watched him drive away in his Ford pickup. Not flashy like a fire
truck, but still a good, serviceable vehicle. I might miss the T-Bird, but not much.

Chapter 31
The Cleansing

Prince was watching all my moves when I left the next morning, before first light. I'd
stocked him up on everything, except company. Maybe another cat? Have to give some thought to it.
I hugged him goodbye. He wiggled away and ran to the laundry room where he could sit on the
dryer by the window and watch me leave. I doubt he saw the little wave I gave him as I backed out
of the driveway.

It was a good drive. Mists in the hills, coming into Willamina, past the Timbertown sign.
The pale gray sky illuminated the tops of the hills in black and white. As I drove through the town,
the soft russet and oranges of maple trees and sumacs glowed in front yards.

Magda's place was looking spiffy. Sam had clearly been at it. The Cecil Brunner rose arbor
was especially tidy and easy to walk through without snagging at my hair or clothes. The maroon
leaves of her Japanese maple had crisp points and it looked as if it had been fluffed. A Tropicana
rose by the door was blooming its last summer glory of orange and yellow.

I let myself into the house with the key she had given me. The house had a different,
indefinable, feel to it. I followed soft voices to the enclosed sun porch at the back. Magda and Sam
were sitting together on the wooden swing suspended from the rafters, her head leaned lightly
against his. They were watching the sunrise color the sky a spectacular pink and yellow and soft
blue, and shared a coziness, a comfort that hadn't been here before. Together.

They didn't hear me until I stepped onto the brick floor behind them. My smile matched
theirs as they looked at me. Sam put a foot down, stopped the slow movement of the swing. "Hey,
pretty girl! Come on in. Join the party. We're just watching the sun rise. Coffee in the kitchen if you
want some." The table in front of them held cups and toast. They were in their jammies and robes,
hers a soft yellow terrycloth, his a cotton, old fashioned, blue check.

I thought Cary Grant. I fetched coffee and sat down in an easy chair to the side of
theirs.

"Here," said Magda, "pull that over so we can see your face." I did and they told me about
how yesterday had gone. They had procured a lawyer for Lena. The judge determined her to not be
a flight risk, so she was able to bail herself out.

"She feels guilty about killing Tom, even in self-defense. I told her I understand and forgive
her. My only problem is that she didn't tell me sooner. I wouldn't have spent all these months
looking over my shoulder afraid I'd look back and there he'd be."

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