Annie's Rainbow (7 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Annie's Rainbow
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“The number on the bottom is the Daisy Shop. We're there all day long and don't have an answering machine,” Jane said.
“Nice little shop. I saw it earlier.”
“We started it with less than five hundred dollars and a lot of hard work,” Annie snapped irritably.
“That's what Mr. Peabody said. Good night, ladies.”
I'm going to faint or throw up or both and choke at the same time,
Annie thought. She swigged from the wineglass until her eyes started to water.
“Do you think he suspects us?” Jane asked nervously. “By the way, Elmo canceled. The lovely Helen is preparing something for him.”
“Us? Nah. He was just being obnoxious. Was he a detective or an insurance person?”
“Both I think. Investigative insurance adjuster. Something like that. He reminded me of a bulldog. Smart-ass.”
Annie forced a laugh. “Hey, he can go through my car anytime he wants.”
“I think he did. Mine too.”
“He needs a warrant,” Annie said.
“Maybe he just stood outside and looked in or something. Guess what, my windows are down.”
Annie's laugh was genuine this time. “So are mine. So are half the car windows in this city. So, what's for dinner? Boy, I can't wait to tell you about this guy I bumped into. We are talking hand-some!”
“Since Elmo canceled, I decided on filled peppers, and tell me more.”
“There he was in those cute running shorts . . .”
It was close to midnight when Annie pulled her diary out of her knitting bag.
I met two men today. My heart feels like it's too big for my chest and will explode any minute
.
I feel frightened and yet I feel elated. A lady from Texas bought three of Jane's paintings today. Business has quadrupled
.
Annie looked at the calendar on the small makeshift desk in the back room. Time to pay the quarterly taxes. Her eyes crossed when she stared at the neat rows of numbers in the ledger. “We need an accountant. All this stuff is eating into my time,” she grumbled to Jane. “Elmo is like a caged cat. He says we need to open another shop over by the Baptist College in North Charleston. How are we going to do it, Jane, and keep up with all this?”
“We have to delegate. One of us needs to be here all the time. So far we've been lucky with the two part-timers we hired. I guess we do need to hire more help. Elmo has a very good business head, but he's running us ragged.”
“I know,” Annie said. “He's right, though. It is time to open another shop. We can afford it as long as we don't go overboard. God, Jane, do you remember how we had those ten coffeepots from Super Mart when we first opened? Twelve cups to a pot and all ten of them were going all day long. That fancy-dancy Bunn coffeemaker is a godsend. I can't wait till we have enough money to buy the cappuccino machine. This is just so fantastic.”
“See, Annie, our gut instincts were right. We're making more money serving coffee than we would make working in the business world. I get to paint, drink all the coffee I want, and know I'm a half owner in a business that is thriving. What more could anyone want?”
“More hours in the day. A day off just to sleep once in a while. A couple of really nice men in our lives. I'd settle for all of the above.” Annie laughed.
“Speaking of men. What's with the professor?”
“He's called for dates three times and three times he canceled. I gave up on him. Now, are you in favor of hiring an accounting firm to handle all of this?”
“Absolutely. I'll check it out today. I'm ahead on my postcards. I can paint them now with my eyes closed. Some man came in here last week and said he would hang some of my pictures in his gallery on Charlotte Street. He said I just might be the next Josie Edell. I don't know who she is, but he sounded impressed.”
“Oh, Jane, that's wonderful. Then it's settled. You're going to find us an accounting firm. I'm going to go over to the college and post a notice for more part-time help, then I'm going to head out to the Baptist College and check out the situation.”
“As long as you're going over to the college, why don't you take the professor some coffee and brownies?” Jane asked slyly.
“Why don't you mind your own business.” Annie grinned.
“Phone's ringing,” Jane said.
“The phone's always ringing. You get it.”
“You're closer,” Jane shot back.
“Daisy Shop,” Annie said, a smile in her voice.
“Miss Clark, or is it Miss Abbott?”
“This is Annie Clark. How can I help you?”
“This is Peter Newman.”
Annie's voice soured immediately. “What can I do for you, Mr. Newman?”
“You can give me permission to run a forensics test on yours and Miss Abbott's automobiles. We're checking all the cars. There's a possibility fibers from the canvas money bag might show up. We're now. working on a theory that the money bag was tossed into one of the cars with open windows and then a third party retrieved it later on.”
“That's going to be difficult, Mr. Newman. My car gave out on me about three weeks ago, so I junked it. I can give you the name of the scrap dealer. Jane's car is still here if you want to check it.”
“When would be a convenient time?”
“I'll put Jane on the phone. You'll have to work out a time with her. The junk dealer is Casey and Sons in Jedburg.”
Annie made a face as she handed the phone to Jane. She turned away to gather up the papers on her desk, her heart pounding so loud she thought for sure Jane would hear it.
Jane slammed down the phone so hard it bounced out of the cradle. “That damn guy just doesn't give up. Fibers my foot! Do you think he's harassing us? He's coming by at six on Wednesday. My, God, Annie, what if it was my car? What if there are fibers in it?”
“Jane, you didn't do anything wrong. If somebody dumped something in your car and took it out later, you are not responsible.”
“Tell that to some cop when he comes to arrest us. I could tell by the look on his face that night he came to the apartment that he didn't believe one thing we told him. He thinks there's something fishy about us. The suspicion just oozed out of his pores.”
“He's doing his job. He's leaving no stone unturned. Isn't that what they say on those cop shows on television?”
“Yeah. What'd that junk guy say he was going to do with your old bus?”
“Sell it for parts and compact the frame. It's probably in some landfill by now.”
“That guy will buy hip boots and go digging around. Trust me.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yeah, I think so. He's probably thinking you did it on purpose to get rid of the evidence. I bet the rat is calling the scrap dealer as we speak.”
Annie's heart skipped a beat. “So let him.” Her voice was so defiant-sounding, Jane raised her eyebrows. “I think the guy is a weasel, and I didn't like him the first time I met him. He's slick. If he bothers us again, I think we need to report him to his agency.”
“I'll be glad to do it.”
“Ha! You'll have to fight me for the phone. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
“I'm going to try and find a female CPA. I'll be back in a little while. Are you sure this is all I need to give him or her.”
“It better be. It's all I have. Good luck, Jane.”
Annie sat for a long time, one hand on top of the phone. Should she call Casey and Sons or leave well enough alone? Leave well enough alone. If a car was compacted, would it be possible to pry it open? Could the old mats and seats be taken out? Did Casey and Sons sell the seats or the mats? Was the insurance investigator trying to scare them? If he was, he was doing a good job.
She was scared out of her wits.
CHAPTER FOUR
Annie sat alone in the living room of her new house staring at the twinkling Christmas tree lights. With the two Daisy Shops closed for holiday break, she felt at loose ends. Two days of sleeping around the clock had left her rested . . . and bored. These days Elmo was busy with his two lady friends, Jane was dating the accountant who was managing their financial records, and her mother was so busy at Westbury Center she didn't want to be bothered with visits from her daughter.
She toyed with the idea of calling Daniel Matthew Evans but realized at the last moment that he, too, like his students, probably went home for the holidays. One luncheon date and one concert hardly made for a relationship or gave her the right to call and ask him to come over for a glass of wine.
She felt tense and didn't like the feeling. Was something going to happen? All manner of horrible thoughts whirled through her head. Was the bulldog going to show up and ruin their holidays? Was Elmo going to get sick? She worried about him. Would Jane get serious with Bob Granger? Three dates a week and all-day weekends led her to believe so. She was happy for Jane, but just a tad jealous.
Damn! What is wrong with me? Maybe I should call Tom.
She hadn't spoken to him since early summer. The holidays were a time for forgiveness and family. It wouldn't hurt her to call him just to wish him and the kids a happy holiday. She'd sent gifts and even included one for Mona. It wouldn't have hurt him to call and say thank you. Maybe he was embarrassed. Maybe a lot of things.
Annie bounded up from the couch and started to pace. She liked this new house of hers. It was old, ancient really, but it had character and great old fireplaces and wonderful heart-of-pine floors. The furniture was sparse but sufficient for now. Later, when she had more time, she would pick and choose furniture that would go with the old antebellum house. It still boggled her mind that she owned a house at all. Like Elmo said, “You need the tax deduction now.”
Annie poured herself a glass of wine as she continued to pace. Without realizing it, she was on the second floor, her hand on the closet doorknob. The dehumidifier box with the ten thousand dollars was still there, pushed to the end of the long shelf. The same money she'd used to set her mother up at Westbury. She should have given it back a long time ago. The ideal time would have been when Newman tried to track down her old car with no results. Why was she keeping it? Was she afraid to give it back? Was it some kind of security? What did she hope to gain from keeping it? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Annie closed the louvered doors to the closet. Her head was above water. She was able to pay for her mother's care, she'd bought this house and a secondhand car that looked good and ran like a dream. Nothing extravagant, just a good, serviceable car. The interest payments were deductible along with her mortgage interest as well as the monies she paid out for her mother's care. All her bills were paid, and she had money in the bank—not a lot but enough of a cushion to make her feel comfortable. Right now she and Jane could sell the Daisy Shops for a handsome profit if she wanted to. Her heartbeat quickened when she thought of the two new shops that were going to open up after the first of the year, both of them at Clemson University. “A veritable gold mine,” Elmo had chortled. And he was right. Elmo was always right. He was probably right about the business plan he'd hired someone to draft up, too. She wasn't sure about the plan to hire a business manager, though. Someone to handle the accounting was different. No one was going to handle her money but Jane and herself.
The phone rang just as Annie poured herself a second glass of wine—or was it her third? She looked at the small clock on the mantel: 10:15. An hour and fifteen minutes past her normal bedtime. Her greeting was cautious. It might be Newman, with some new trick up his sleeve.
“Annie, it's Tom. The kids told me you sent them some Christmas presents. I'm calling to thank you and to ask you how Mom is. Look, Annie, if you don't want to talk to me, it's okay.”
“I have mixed feelings, Tom. I sent a gift for you, too.”
“I was sure you did. I guess Mona didn't see fit to give it to me. I haven't been to the house in quite a while.”
“What does that mean, Tom?”
“It means Mona and I separated in September. I'm living in a small apartment. It's hard as hell paying support and trying to maintain a life for myself. She's going to clean me out. That's not really why I called. I wanted to ask about Mom and to tell you some guy was here asking questions about you and Jane. I told him off, then booted his ass out the door. I'd had a couple of beers, but he gave me the impression he thinks you, Jane, and that guy you worked for are somehow involved in some bank heist. I could be wrong about this, but Mandy said he came to the house and talked to Mona. Christ alone knows what the hell she would say. I just thought you should know. I'm not even going to ask you about that because I know what kind of sterling character you are and the guy was so full of it his eyes were turning brown. How's Mom?”
Annie's heart hammered in her chest. “Mom's doing great, Tom. She really seems happy. Most times when I go to see her she doesn't want to visit. She has friends and she gardens. The little villa she has is just perfect for her. She doesn't wander off, and the security is great. She's coming for Christmas. I have a real tree and everything. We closed up shop, since the college is closed. So is Bishop England. What are you doing for Christmas, Tom?”
“I'll probably sleep all day. Mona took the kids kicking and screaming to her parents' house.”
“Why don't you come here? I have an extra bedroom, and I know Mom would love to see you. It's been a long time since you've seen her.”
“I can't afford it, Annie. I don't have two extra nickels to rub together. It's kind of you to ask since I. . .”
“Will you come if I get you a ticket?”
“You don't have to do that, Annie. Drink a toast to me. I don't want you feeling sorry for me.”
“I don't feel sorry for you. You're my brother. I'd love it if we could all spend Christmas together. Say yes, Tom. I'll call the airline and make the reservation now and you can take the next flight. I'll pick you up at the airport. It will be like old times.”
“Okay, it's a deal. Listen, Annie, you and Jane aren't in any kind of trouble, are you?”
“No, of course not. That guy has been dogging us for months now. Sooner or later, he'll give up. If he doesn't stop soon, though, I'm going to call his home office and tell them he's harassing us. Elmo is getting real feisty about all of this. I think because he sold his drugstore and moved here when we did, the investigator thinks we had something to do with it. The shops are doing extremely well. He's probably running bank checks on us and all that other stuff they manage to do. Whoever would have thought he would track you down in California? Hang up, Tom, and I'll call the airline and then call you back.”
“I'll pack in the meantime. Jeez, Annie, this is so nice of you.”
“If you could, would you do it for me?”
“Yeah, Annie, I would. I want you to believe that.”
“Okay, then. Hang up.”
The moment Annie hung up the phone, she dropped her head to rest between her legs to ward off the dizziness engulfing her.
I have to give it back. I have to give it back. I'm sending it back. I'm sending it back as soon as I can figure out a way to do it without it coming back to haunt me. I'm going to do it. I swear I am. I can't take this anymore. Get a grip, Annie. It's all part of the investigative process. If he does suspect, this is his way of trying to wear you down. If you send it back now, he'll know it was you. You replaced all the money you
borrowed.
You're just holding it for the right time to mail it back.
Annie gave her head a shake to clear her thoughts before she dialed the airline. Within minutes she had a reservation for her brother on the red-eye. She whipped her credit card out of the desk drawer and rattled off the numbers. It was the first time she'd used the card since coming to South Carolina. It gave her a good feeling to know she could afford to charge the ticket and pay it off when the bill came in. A very good feeling. “Do what you want with this, Mr. Snoop,” she muttered. There was no doubt in her mind that the insurance investigator had her account as well as Jane's flagged for any charges that might appear. “Tough, Mr. Snoop. Just plain old tough.
“You know something else, Mr. Snoop?” Annie said, sloshing more wine into her glass. “I'm going to be so successful you aren't going to believe it. I'm going to do it on my own, too. By the time I'm thirty I'm going to be a millionaire.”
As she guzzled the wine, her head spinning, Annie placed the call to her brother. “It's all set. Just go to the airport and take the United red-eye. I'll pick you up in the morning. I'm glad you're coming, Tom.”
“Are you okay, Annie? You sound like you've been crying.”
“Actually, Tom, I'm probably drunk. I'm not sure why that is. Then again, maybe I do know, and I just don't want to deal with it.”
“Are you by yourself, Annie?”
“Yes. I bought this beautiful old house, but I don't have much furniture. I do have a Christmas tree. Jane is seeing someone. We don't see too much of each other after work anymore. Elmo is fending off two ladies who are hot on his tail, and he loves every minute of it.”
“Guess you're feeling kind of shortchanged, huh?”
“Kind of. All I do is work. I did meet a professor, but he canceled out on three different dates, so yeah, I'm alone. I might get some goldfish. Remember when we had gerbils, Tom?”
“Yeah, one day we had one and the next day we had twenty-three or was that hamsters?”
“Who cares. We had them. Ya know, Tom, sometimes Mom has a spark and she remembers me. Then I cry and blow the whole moment. I hope she remembers you.”
Tom's voice was husky. “Yeah, let's hope so. Can I bring you anything from sunny California?”
“I thought you said you didn't have any money.”
“I don't, but I still have a charge card. Name it.”
“Just yourself, Tom. We can go shopping when you get here and buy Mom some stuff for Christmas. Remember how she always loved the wrappings better than the presents. What'd you do with the money from the sale of the house, Tom?”
“Paid Dad's medical bills. There were two mortgages. I paid those off. Mom's condition hit around then. More medical bills. I have all the records, Annie. I would never snow you on that.”
“I never liked your shitty wife,” Annie said, uncorking a second bottle of wine. “You were too good for her. I like your kids, though. Do you think I'll ever have kids, Tom?”
“Not at the rate you're going. We'll have to do something about that.”
“Yes, let's do something about that. Somebody without any deep, dark secrets. I hate people who have secrets.”
“Are you trying in your own inimitable way to tell me
you
have a deep, dark secret?”
“Me? Sorry. No secrets here. Do you have any?”
“I was going to keep my divorce from you, so I guess I don't, now that I told you. You probably should go to bed, Annie.”
“Why is that, Tom?”
“So you're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when it's time to pick me up instead of being hungover. Is that a good enough reason?”
“The best,” Annie hiccuped. “What's it like to be really happy, Tom?”
“How about if I tell you tomorrow when you pick me up. Unplug your tree lights and go to bed. Will you promise me to do that?”
“Sure, Tom.”
“Good girl. I'll say good night then.”
Annie corked the wine bottle and dutifully turned off the Christmas tree lights. She thought about her old cat Flossie as she made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. It had always been her job to let the cat out before going to bed.
Tomorrow she was definitely going to get some goldfish.

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