Secrets and Revelations (Bellingwood #4) (16 page)

"Let's go, mother," the woman's husband said as he came up behind her. "We need to get those boys to bed. Tomorrow morning comes just as early as this morning did."

She smiled at Polly, "It was nice to meet you," she said and followed her husband. They stopped at one cluster of boys and two peeled off to follow them, one kicking back the cloth ball to the group.

Polly ran over to Henry. "Who was that?"

"Who?"

"The couple who
just left. She thinks she introduced herself to me and she didn't. I need to know her name."

Henry laughed. "That was Miriam Dempsey. I love her. She used to work at the hardware store. They have two boys who help on the farm, but they're both college age now and I think they've convinced their parents they should live in the second house out there.
She probably loves having these boys around."

"Thanks," Polly said. "She told me that it was nice meeting me and I panicked."

"You are quite the celebrity around here. Everybody knows who you are."

"That's just wrong. If they know me bec
ause I own Sycamore House, that’s fine, but the first thing she did was ask me about finding Cindy Rothenfuss. You know it's odd. Everyone really likes her husband. He must have spent a lifetime covering her tracks. What's he going to do now?"

"He'll probably find a nice young bimbo who tells him how wonderful he is and then have a heart attack and die because he isn't used to the kindness."

"Don't even say that!"

"You could be his bimbo. You'd give him a heart attack even if you weren't kind to him. You give me a heart attack most of the time."

"I'm not going to be anybody's bimbo. That's just sick."

"Bimbos? Why are you going to be a bimbo?" Sylvie had only caught the last bit of the conversation and was giggling. "I don't think you've ever been a bimbo."

"I'm not. Henry thought he was being funny. He told me I could be Barry Rothenfuss' new bimbo and give him a heart attack."

"He has a lot of money," Henry stage-whispered. "You'd be rolling in the dough if he died and left it all to you. Then you could marry me and keep me in the manner in which I could become accustomed. See. Bimbos are useful."

"I don't think so, man," Roy said.

"Oh for heaven's sake. This conversation is out of control," Polly laughed. "I'm going to the kitchen. Get over yourself, Henry Sturtz. There are no bimbos in your life."

"Henry," Roy asked. "Could you take Jayden and me out to the Gregory home later? I've asked him to stay and talk with me for a bit and didn't want to make them wait."

"Sure, buddy. I'll just help the womenfolk clean up the kitchen and when you're ready I'll either be there or upstairs with my bimbo. Text me and we'll go."

Polly grabbed his sleeve and said, "You're in for it now." She winked at Roy. "Use any room you'd like. The conference room is open if you want to shut a door."

"Thanks, we'll just sit in the lounge. I'll find you in a bit,
Henry." He started out the door and then stopped. "And don't give her too much trouble. She's the best thing that's ever happened to you."

He left and Polly grinned up at Henry. "See? He knows."

Henry kissed her. "I know too. Don't think I don't."

Sylvie sent Hannah on her way, telling her that leaving Bruce in charge of three children two nights in a row was probably pushing it. Hannah just sweetly smiled and hugged Sylvie.

"Thank you for getting me out of the house every once in a while. Bruce is wonderful with the kids and he doesn't mind. If it gets to be too much, he calls his mother and takes them over to see her. Now that we've moved out of their house, I think she misses having them around."

They had finished cleaning off the tables in the auditorium when Eliseo showed up. "I'm sorry I wasn't back sooner," he said. "Jason was doing really well and I didn't want to shorten the ride."

"You weren’t needed," Polly said. "We're done here. I don't know if you have to put the tables away or not. Do we have anything going on in here until Friday night?"

"Other than the quilt show?" he asked, pointing at the quilts hanging on the walls. "I'll just take care of it. There are only six of them."

"When do the judges show up?"

"They'll be here on Wednesday, according to Jeff. There are a few more
quilts that need to be hung tomorrow and then we'll be ready for them."

He tipped a table over and snapped the legs in, the
n rolled it to the stage. She walked out of the auditorium and met Henry, who was coming in. With a quick movement, she swiped the wet rag she was carrying across Henry's face and he sputtered.

"What was that for?"

"Calling me a bimbo."

"But I didn't mean it!"

"Well then, I didn't mean that either."

“
You're a brat, Polly Giller."

She sauntered away and looked over her shoulder at him, "And you love me. Don't forget that part of it."

Sylvie was giggling when Polly dropped the wash cloth in the sink. "That man has the patience of a saint," she said.

"I know," Polly laughed. "It's good for him. He's such a nice guy that he'd be really boring if someone wasn't around to stir him up."

She picked up an empty ice cream container. "Thank you for doing this, Sylvie. Did you see how those kids lit up with a little ice cream?"

"Ice cream does that for everyone, I think. If my boys are growly, all I have to do is take them for a walk down to the convenience store for something sweet. Between the walk and the ice cream, they become much better human beings. Or maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the one who becomes a better human being."

"Well, it changed everything tonight. They needed something positive and your ice cream really did it for them. And that chocolate sauce. Where in the world did you learn to do that?"

"That was my mom's recipe," Sylvie said. "She used it on anything. In fact, I think it might have been her mother's recipe. We like chocolate."

Polly looked around the kitchen. It was clean and everything had been put away. "Can I help you with anything else?"

"No, this is great. I'm going to run up to your apartment and wrangle my boys. I'll have them back here tomorrow morning. Thanks for your help."

She hugged Polly and headed through the storage room and up to the apartment. Henry came into the kitchen. "I'm going to take Roy and Jayden out to the Gregory place and then bring Roy back here. Are you going to bed or should I knock on your door?"

Polly kissed his cheek. "I'm going to bed. This has been a long, strange day. I'll take Obiwan for a walk and then I think I'm done. Text me when you get home, though. Please?"

"Good night, Polly." He whispered in her ear. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"I know," she smiled. "Text me?"

"I will."

She watched him leave and heard the front door shut as he left the building with Roy and Jayden. She heard it open and shut again with the sounds of Andrew and Jason vying for their mother's attention. She walked to the back of the kitchen, flipped the light off and went up to her apartment, sitting down at the top
of the steps so she could snuggle the cats before taking Obiwan outside. She could hardly wait to crawl between the sheets and fall asleep.

While
Kevin Campbell droned on and on at the other end of the table, Polly’s mind wandered. She was at the library with the rest of the Literacy Competition Committee attempting to make final decisions on which pieces would proceed to Saturday's finals. She had long since made her selections and now it was just a matter of allowing people to lobby for their favorites. Kevin was a perfectly nice guy, but he liked to listen to himself talk. That made his career choice a good one - high school English teacher. He probably bored his students as much as her teachers had when she was young.

When people complimented her on her beautiful handwriting, she assured them that she'd had one teacher in high school who had allowed her to perfect it. What she didn't tell them was that in English Lit, she'd been bored to death and spent hours and days writing the alphabet until she got the script exactly as she liked it. She spent an entire semester working on it and remembered having pages and pages filled with alphabets and her signature.

Kevin continued to wax poetic about a piece of prose written by a young girl. He was right, it was good stuff and so far, the stand outs were fairly obvious to everyone. There wouldn't be much discussion once Kevin stopped talking.

Her phone vibrated and she checked the text message. It was from Joss who was sitting right beside her.

"Wanna get a drink or five after we're done? I'm bored."

Polly looked at her and smiled, then wrote back
. "I feel like I'm passing notes in class and yes on the drink (s) and I'm bored too. This man can TALK!"

"The only genre we're going to have trouble with is poetry. There are some great entries, but we aren't ever going to get there if he doesn't stop nattering on about his student's novelette."

"Yawn. We already know it's very good. No one is arguing the point."

"Should we text our men and see if they want to join us?"

"Sure!"

"In conclusion," Kevin Campbell proclaimed, "I feel this author's story should receive unanimous support from the committee to move forward to the finals held on Saturday."

He looked around the room as if expecting applause. What he got was blank stares from his cohorts.

Joss stood and thanked him, then asked if anyone had anything else regarding the works of literature they had been discussing for the last several weeks. No one had anything more to offer.

Polly had been grateful for the fairly rigid rules. They made it easy to weed out the poorly constructed pieces and focus on work that was polished. The kids were encouraged to seek out assistance in order to hone their skills.

Kevin Campbell's student was a shoo-in. Her story about a teenage girl who faced puberty at the same time she was turned into a werewolf was compassionate and heart-wrenching. It was well-written and very clean. Polly was glad to see that Andrew's story about a family in Bellingwood who dealt with escaped slaves from the Underground Railroad received rave reviews. He'd caught her one day after having dreamt the story and they sat down immediately to put it on paper. She took notes that day as fast as she could and then transferred things to his
mother’s laptop so he could fill out the details. That had been one of the most fun things she'd experienced with him. It was wonderful to see the joy of a young boy whose creativity seemed to bubble up from his heart.

She was glad that he would be further encouraged by this accolade. From here on out, though, the competition was tough. A professor from Drake and another two from Ames would be here on Saturday to hear the students' presentations and award the prizes.

Polly texted Henry about meeting up with her and the Mikkels after the meeting. He'd had a long day looking for the two missing boys. Rumors of sightings were coming in, so he had taken Roy out early that morning and spent all day driving through the region, hoping to find them. Jayden, the boy who Roy had interviewed last night, was apparently texting with a girlfriend back in Chicago after all. He told Roy repeatedly that he had no idea where Jaleel and Mickey had gone. In fact, none of the boys had heard from them, which was strange in and of itself.

"I'd like to go out,"
he replied.
"I could handle spending time with you and someone who isn't part of this problem."

"Do you want me to pick you up?"
she asked. She had driven to the Library and felt guilty the entire time. It was a beautiful evening and she should have walked the few blocks from Sycamore House.

"Yes. Thanks. Call when you leave."

They finished their selections and Polly was confident they'd made good choices. Two members of the committee were planning to contact each of the students after the meeting, but Polly told them she would let the Donovans know Andrew had made the cut. She called Henry when she got in the truck to let him know she was on her way and then immediately called Sylvie.

"May I speak with Andrew?" Polly asked.

"Just a sec. Is it good news?"

"Of course it is."

She heard Sylvie call out, "Andrew! Polly’s on the phone!"

"Did I make it? Did I make it?"
she heard in the background.

"Did I make it?" he asked breathlessly when he got to Sylvie's cell phone.

"You sure did," Polly responded. "I'm really proud of you. There was no question about your story. It was in the top ten. Are you going to be ready for Saturday?"

"I've been practicing all week, just in case!"

She pulled into Henry's driveway. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow and give you a hug. You've done really well."

"Thanks, Polly!" She heard him hand the phone to his mom and yell "I'm in! Can you believe it? I'm in!"

Sylvie came on and said, "Sorry about that. I thought he had hung up. I guess he's too excited to think straight. Thanks for everything, Polly. You made this happen for him."

"No problem," Polly chuckled. "All I did was help him get it right. He did all of the creative stuff.
See you tomorrow!"

"I won't be in tomorrow. Too much school, but I'll be there the rest of the week.
Thanks again."

They hung up as Henry was coming out of the house. Polly was used to seeing him in jeans and t-shirts at work, and sometimes dress clothes when they went out, but he was dressed in shorts and a polo shirt this evening. Casual was perfect on him.

She rolled down the window and whistled, "Nice legs there, hot stuff."

"Hush, you'll embarrass me in front of my neighbors."

"Oh, they probably see you like this all the time when you wander around in your skivvies."

"No one around here has ever seen my skivvies." He climbed into the passenger seat. "Well, there was that one time, but hey, I was only four. And there weren't even any skivvies."

"Andrew's story advanced to the finals," she said. "I just got off the phone with him. He's pretty excited."

"You are too, aren't you!"

"A little bit. I feel like a proud mama. He and I have had a blast working on it. I can't wait for you to hear him describe what he’s written."

She put her hand on his knee. "Are you sure about going out tonight? I know you have to be tired after all you've done today."

"I want to be with you for a while and it will be fun to meet the Mikkels." He covered her hand with his. "Roy is a wreck and there isn't anything I can do for him except be there when he calls. We were all over Boone and most of Ames today and nothing. It's like those boys simply vanished off the face of the earth."

"That's unbelievable," she said.

"But, there's one more thing. It gets worse."

"What does?"

"Aaron called Roy. Paint transfer on the SUV matches the pickup truck. That truck is the one that ran her off the road."

Polly was glad she hadn't pulled out of the driveway
yet. She couldn't breathe.

"You don't think ..."

"We don't know what to think. Right now it looks as if two of Roy's boys stole a pickup truck and ran her off the road. They made sure she was dead and painted the word 'Bitch' on the back of her SUV. Then, they took off."

"Those two boys? That can't be real."

"I don't think so either, but right now that's what we've got and it is killing Roy. He's not telling any of the other boys about it and the Fosters aren't going to say anything. He wants the rest of the boys to get as much out of this experience as possible. He won't leave until the two are found, so they might as well make the most of it for the kids who are here."

Polly lifted herself out of the seat and over the console to hug him. "I'm so sorry this has happened to your friend. Maybe we can round up more people to help look tomorrow. I‘m available."

"No," he said. "Unless we get a clue about where they are, we'd just be spinning our wheels. Roy says he needs to stay involved with the other boys and encourage them where they are. He wants to be sure that everyone is feeling connected to him right now, so he'll be making several visits tomorrow and Thursday."

"If there's anything he needs from me, you know I'll do it," she said.

"Thanks." He kissed her. "I could stay here all night doing that, but are they expecting us?"

"Probably. Joss
was going home to pick up Nate. We won't be too late."

She settled herself back in her seat and pulled her seatbelt across her lap. "Is Davey's good?"

"I haven't eaten anything tonight. I could use some food. That will be great."

She drove to the restaurant and parked. There were still several vehicles in the lot and as Polly pulled in, she saw Joss and her husband open their car doors and step out.

"Hi!" she called as she jumped out of the truck and waited for Henry to join her.

Henry opened the front door of the restaurant and Polly went through, "Have you guys met Henry Sturtz?"

She'd only seen Nate Mikkels once when he picked his wife up after a meeting but had never met him, so introductions were made all around. If Polly used the word vivacious to describe Joss Mikkels, the word to describe her husband was gregarious. He put his hand out to shake Henry's and pulled him into a friendly hug. The man wasn't any taller than Henry, nor was he an overly big man, but he was very friendly. He had thinning dark hair and were he to allow it, a tendency toward plump. His cheeks were full and red and his eyes were lit with an inner glint of laughter.

"Are you never sick, man? I haven't seen you in the pharmacy yet," he said to Henry as they were led to a table.

Polly wondered how Henry would deal with this. She thought of another word - convivial. This man looked around the room and greeted several others whom he knew. They all seemed genuinely happy to see him and after a few moments at their tables, he sat down.

"Gotta keep the customers smiling. I don't make any money if they go away."

"I don't suppose you do," Henry agreed. Polly cringed. This had the potential to be a really poor decision. She couldn't imagine that her friend was married to a slick salesman, but worse things had happened."

"My little lady left before she could make any supper, so I'm powerful hungry.
What about you. Was it Henry?"

Henry nodded. "Yes. Henry. Henry Sturtz. I haven't eaten yet either. I was looking forward to a good meal."

"Well, Davey's is one of the best places in town if you're looking forward to a good meal, that's for sure."

Henry reached over and squeezed Polly's knee under the table. She knew exactly what he was thinking and wanted to kick herself for bringing him out to deal with this.

All of a sudden, Nate jumped. "What?" he asked, looking at his wife accusingly. Then he chuckled. "She kicked me!"

"Who in the hell are you?"
Joss asked. "Did you watch some redneck car sales documentary or something and decide to practice your technique?"

Both Henry and Polly laughed out loud.

"You don't like it?" he asked, a bit petulantly. "I thought I had it just about right."