Unraveled (17 page)

“Let’s hope,” Kelly joked before she pushed through the doors.

Walking up to the uniformed attendant, she handed him her parking ticket. “Could you bring my car, please?” The man nodded and scurried away toward the garage doorway.

“Valet parking. I could get used to that,” Jennifer said, zipping her briefcase.

“In this area, it’s a necessity. Parking spaces in Cherry Creek are either metered or garage or restricted shopping centers.”

“Oh, I wanted to tell you something before I forget. Bethany, the agent who wrote the contract offer for Arthur Housemann, called me yesterday. I’d left a message on her office voice mail a week ago asking if Housemann had mentioned if he was still interested in buying the canyon property after Turner’s estate is settled.”

Kelly looked at her friend with interest. “Did he say he was?”

“Bethany thinks he still wants the property, but that’s not what caught my attention. She went on to say that Renee Turner had called her a couple of days after Turner died and said she’d be willing to go ahead with the sale, provided Housemann still wanted to buy.” Jennifer caught Kelly’s gaze. “I asked her what Housemann said when she told him. Bethany said he kind of hemmed and hawed on the phone and told her he wants the property, but he didn’t want any trouble. Then, he hung up on her.”

Kelly let Jennifer’s comments race through her mind. “Brother, that doesn’t sound good for Renee,” she said, refraining from making a comment on Housemann’s behavior. After all, his comments sounded completely straightforward considering the circumstances.

“I know, but they make sense once you’ve seen or heard Renee Turner in action. It’s all about the money. She was totally obsessed with the idea that Turner was trying to cheat her.” Jennifer shrugged. “And knowing Turner, he probably was. Still, it wasn’t a smart move on Renee’s part to tell Housmann’s agent she’d sell the property so soon after Turner’s death.”

Kelly watched the attendant drive her red car out of the garage. “That’s why you have to call Burt and tell him everything.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Jennifer frowned. “Damn. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

“No one will know it came from you, Jennifer. The cops are talking to all sorts of people about Fred Turner. Call Burt and he’ll tell Paul. Then the cops will decide if it’s important information or not.”

Kelly’s red car pulled to a stop right in front of them. “Why don’t you call Burt while we’re driving down to the Tech Center. Once you get there, you’ll be sucked up into business.”

“Good idea,” Jennifer said as she opened her purse. “I’ll get the tip.”

Kelly
scanned the crowded banquet-turned-meeting-room, searching for the coffee urns. Morning meetings required constant caffeine intake to make them bearable. Afternoon meetings did, too, to be truthful.

Spotting a cluster of people beside some long tables covered in white cloths, Kelly zeroed in on the group. Food and coffee were the only things that enticed that much interest, especially at eight thirty in the morning. As Kelly got closer, she spotted a tray of pastries and—worst of all—donuts. Fresh donuts. The kind she loved. The hardest kind for her to resist.

Deliberately turning her head, Kelly aimed straight for the coffee urns at the other end of the table. Having to wait in line behind several others, she couldn’t help noticing other people sampling the donuts. Sampling was a kind word. Grabbing and gobbling was more accurate. Munching hungrily, donut sugar sprinkled on their chins and down their shirt fronts.

If only rush-hour traffic hadn’t been so congested, she could have grabbed some real food. Even fast food would be better than those tempting sugary pastries. She and Jennifer and Megan had set the alarm with no cushion for breakfast. Kelly pictured Megan sitting down right now, chowing down on a huge plate of huevos rancheros. Only Megan could get away with that. Kelly’s stomach growled just as she reached the coffee urn.

Quickly filling her cup, Kelly tried to get away from the platters of temptation, then she spotted a lonely apple sitting forgotten and ignored beside the donuts. Kelly glanced over her shoulder and grabbed it, then shoved the apple into her briefcase. She’d have it as a midmorning snack. Or maybe now. Maybe she . . .

“Hey, good morning,” Dave’s voice came over her shoulder. “You look bright and cheerful for so early.”

“It’s a ruse, I assure you,” Kelly said, grateful for the distraction. “I’m trying to ignore the donuts. I didn’t have time for breakfast, so it’s coffee.” She took a large gulp and felt the hunger pangs recede.

“I caved. Gave in to temptation.” Dave grinned. “Those blueberry ones are my weakness. Then, of course the cinnamon sugar ones—”

“Stop!” Kelly ordered, holding up her hand. “Those are my favorites, too. I don’t wanta hear about it.”

Dave chuckled. “Okay, I’ll stop. Say, I wanted to tell you I talked with Bill Parosky yesterday, and I asked him about Art Housemann.”

Noticing several people aiming for the coffee urns, Kelly motioned Dave back into the main room, which continued to fill with people. Most of the chairs were already taken, she noticed. A raised platform with a podium and several chairs graced the end of the room.

“Really? You didn’t have to. I was going to talk to him today,” Kelly said, curious that Dave would take it upon himself to address her concerns.

Dave shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to intrude or anything. It simply occurred to me that if you walked up to Bill and started asking him questions about an old friend of his, Bill would shut down. He’s kind of a private person, if you know what I mean.”

“That makes sense,” Kelly replied. “So, what did Parosky say about Housemann and Turner?”

“He said Art was pretty hot after the land deal fell apart.” Dave looked out into the crowded room. “He called Turner every name in the book on the phone one day.”

“Did Housemann make any threats?”

Dave looked back at her with a smile. “Now, that’s the kind of question that would spook Bill. He didn’t use the word ‘threat’ exactly, but he did mention Housemann saying he thought Turner wanted to get even. But he didn’t explain. That’s all Bill said.”

Kelly let that comment work through her mind.
Get even
. That could mean a lot of things. And, it could refer to the “bad blood” between Housemann and Turner the other developer mentioned. “That’s interesting,” Kelly said, then took a large drink of coffee, deliberately not saying more.

“I can see the wheels inside your head spinning right now,” Dave teased. “Do you really think Art Housemann could be involved in Turner’s death? He’s such a straight arrow.”

“Hey, I’m not thinking anything,” Kelly said, looking Dave square in the eye. “I’m simply asking questions for my friend and relaying the answers. That’s all.” She took another big sip.

Dave eyed her skeptically. “Why do I get the feeling you’re dodging the question?”

An expert dodger, Kelly gave him a sly smile. “I think you’ve had too much sugar already.”

Dave’s cell phone rang then, and he reached into his jacket. “The Warner crew has settled in chairs near the front,” he said as he walked away.

Kelly noticed several Warner staff had filled the front two rows of chairs. She checked her watch. The first speaker was due on deck in less than ten minutes. Enough time to freshen her coffee. She headed toward the coffee urns again and filled her cup to the rim.

As she walked away from the urns and into the room again, she spotted someone walking toward her. Someone else she recognized.
Steve
. Kelly took a big gulp of coffee as he approached. Steve had obviously found his tongue.

Steve stopped about six feet in front of her. Keeping his distance, she imagined. “Hi,” he said with a little smile.

Kelly could feel Steve’s hesitation as he stood there, so she decided to take the lead. They were adults, for Pete’s sake. “Hi, yourself. I thought you were going to come over and say something at the last meeting, but you just stood there. Did you think I was going to bite your head off or something?”

Steve’s easy grin suddenly appeared, like sunshine. Then, it was gone. A self-conscious smile replaced it. “Yeah, I kinda did.”

Kelly watched him, old feelings bubbling up from inside, conflicted feelings. Old memories, good memories, and hurt. She glanced toward the front rows where her colleagues gathered. “We’re adults, Steve. We move on, right?”

“I guess.” Steve’s smile disappeared. “You changed your hair. It looks good.”

Surprised that he noticed, Kelly glanced back to him. “Thanks.” She deliberately didn’t say anything more.

Steve paused and looked into her eyes. “You look great, Kelly.”

Regret radiated off Steve. Kelly could feel it. She stared back into his dark eyes, which had turned sad. Kelly didn’t know what to say. “Thank you” sounded lame, so she looked into her coffee cup and changed the subject.

“I heard that you’re working full-time for Sam Kaufman now. So you gave up the architect firm?”

Steve stared at his shoes. “Yeah, Sam promoted me. He needed the help. That’s why I’m handling this joint project for the company. Sam likes to stay on the worksite, getting dirty.” A little smile returned.

Kelly remembered when Steve spent all day walking around his worksites, mud on his work boots. That’s what he loved. A poignant fragment of memory danced in front of her eyes for a second before she chased it away. “How do you like it?”

He looked back at her and gave one of his oh-so-familiar good-natured shrugs. “Actually, I’ve enjoyed meeting all these different builders. I’ve learned a lot, too, and I’ve gotten some ideas that maybe Sam and I can use in the company.” He gave a wry smile and glanced over his shoulder toward the people standing on the platform at the front of the room. “If only these meetings wouldn’t run on so long. Then we could all get some work done.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Kelly agreed with a little smile. Just then, she spotted one of her Warner colleagues coming her way.

“Hey, Kelly, the meeting is about to start,” a short, plump blonde woman said, beckoning Kelly. “We’ve got a place saved.”

“Thanks, Brenda,” Kelly said, then turned back to Steve. “Speak of the devil,” she said with a rueful smile of her own. Then she added, “Take care.”

“You too, Kelly,” Steve said as she walked away.

Feeling her insides churning, Kelly followed Brenda toward the front rows. Noticing a hotel employee standing nearby with a tray of donuts, Kelly sped over and grabbed two blueberry ones. Right now, she needed sugar.

“Would
you park it close by, please? We’ll be using it in less than an hour,” Kelly said to the parking attendant.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and took the keys.

Jennifer was already standing by the hotel entry doors. “I hope Megan is here. I want to have time to stop for a salad or something. I’m starving.”

“Me, too,” Kelly said, following her friend through the doors and into the lobby.

“Oh, before I forget, Burt called me back around noon, and said his friend Paul appreciated the information and was going to follow it up.” She wagged her head. “I feel sorry for Renee.”

“So do I, but you had to tell the truth,” Kelly said as they entered the elevator. “By the way, Steve came up to me before the meeting started this morning. We got to say hello.”

Jennifer jerked around and stared at Kelly. Her eyes sparked with obvious delight. “Really? Well, good for Steve. He made the first move. At last!”

Kelly gave her a crooked smile. “Yeah, I had to prime the pump at first. I told him he looked like he was afraid I’d bite his head off. Then he seemed to relax.”

“What else did he say?” Jennifer asked as the elevator rose.

“Ohhh, he noticed I’d changed my hair and said it looked good.”

“Safe subject, hair. Anything else?”

The elevator door slid open and Kelly walked out, Jennifer behind her. “I told him I’d heard about Sam promoting him. And he said he was in charge of the joint project so Sam could stay out on the building sites. And then, the meeting started, and that was that.”

Jennifer and Kelly were both silent as they walked down the hotel corridor. Finally Jennifer spoke as they neared the hotel room. “Well, at least he broke the ice. How’d you feel?”

Kelly fished out the hotel key card and swiped it at the door. “Pretty churned up inside, as you can imagine,” she admitted as she pushed the hotel room door open.

Kelly glanced around for Megan as they entered. Megan’s jacket and briefcase lay on the sofa, but no sign of her. “Megan? We’re back. Are you in the Jacuzzi or something? We’ve gotta get to the game—”

Kelly’s sentence stopped when Megan stepped from around the corner. At least Kelly thought it was Megan. It was hard to tell. She’d never seen Megan look like this before.

Megan was a vision in white. She wore a strapless white wedding gown that hugged her slender figure all the way to the knees, then flared out gently to the floor. Not in gathers or ruffles, just subtle, flaring curves of white satin fabric. Or, at least it looked like satin to Kelly. And . . . were those beads edging the strapless bodice?
Beads?
On no-beads Megan? Kelly could barely believe her eyes.

Megan stood grinning at both of them. “Ta-
dah
!”

“Oh, my God! You found a dress!” Kelly cried, hand to her chest. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she felt her briefcase slide off her shoulder to the floor. Shock had taken over.

“Megan, you look
beautiful
!” Jennifer exclaimed, both hands to her chest. “Oh, I’m going to cry!”

“I don’t believe you found a dress,” Kelly said again, standing in place, unable or unwilling to move. The vision might disappear.

“Wait! Don’t cry yet,” Megan teased. “Wait’ll I put on something else.” She dashed from the room, moving almost as fast in the form-fitting dress as she did on the ball field.

Kelly turned to Jennifer, who looked like she really might cry. “She found a dress. Impossible Megan found a dress. I don’t believe it. And it’s . . . it’s beautiful! And . . . and it has
beads
, for Pete’s sake! Beads on no-bead Megan! And it’s satin, too! Surely the apocalypse must be coming.”