Crowned and Moldering (19 page)

“No, never. I guess I was always too wrapped up in books for him to notice me.”

“You’re lucky, but I’ll bet he did notice you.”

“He was probably intimidated by you,” Lizzie said. “You’re tall and blond and beautiful.
You probably scared him to death.”

Jane waved away Lizzie’s explanation, but I thought it was spot-on.

“You know,” Jane said, “I have my weekly hotel-association lunches at the Inn on Main
Street. I’ve noticed him in the dining room a few times. If I see him again, I’ll
strike up a conversation and find out what he’s up to.”

“I’d appreciate anything you can find out,” I said.

The kitchen door swung open and Emily stumbled out, giggling. She fiddled with her
skirt, and her face was so uncharacteristically flushed, it was obvious to all of
us that Gus must’ve just kissed her silly.

Gus sauntered out of the kitchen and went directly to the front door, not making eye
contact with anyone. As he left, Emily busied herself at the front counter, clearly
trying to pull herself back together.

“Oh, how romantic,” Jane sighed.

“He is so handsome,” Marigold whispered.

Emily deliberately avoided our table while she bustled from one guest to the next
and back and forth from the kitchen, carrying dishes or bringing out new teapots.

“Her face is still red,” Lizzie whispered.

Jane smiled. “She looks so happy.”

Yes, Emily was practically glowing, and my girlfriends seemed to be thrilled for her.
I didn’t say anything, but I was worried. If she fell for Gus, he could break her
heart. He was gorgeous and sexy and had always had a reputation with the ladies. He
was also ten years younger than Emily was. I didn’t want him to hurt her.

Jane whispered, “I wonder how long this has been going on.”

“I think it just started a minute ago,” I guessed, and told them what Emily had said
about Gus coming by to visit the ghost of Mrs. Rawley. Emily had refused to believe
that he might be stopping by the house to see her. But now I wondered,
Did Mrs. Rawley’s spirit somehow bring Gus and Emily together?

It was a ridiculous notion, but I liked the thought of it, anyway.

A few minutes later, another waitress approached to clear our dishes and take our
money.

“What happened to Emily?” Lizzie asked.

“She’s not feeling well,” the waitress said, and quickly changed the subject. “I hope
everything was to your liking today.”

“Wonderful as always,” Marigold said, and popped the last mini cheese Danish into
her mouth.

We waited for the server to leave and then we stared at one another.

“Do you think she’s too embarrassed to talk to us?” Lizzie wondered.

“That won’t fly,” I said, taking a last sip of tea. “She’s got to know that the longer
she puts off telling us, the more we’ll hound her.”

Lizzie laughed. “As she would do for any of us.”

Jane leaned closer. “If she’s smart, she’s on her way home to jump in the sack with
Gus.”

Marigold fanned herself. “And I know for a fact that Emily Rose is a very smart woman.”

*   *   *

When I got back to the high school parking lot, the guys had already begun to break
the old asphalt apart. The SolarLight technician handed me a powerful set of headphones,
because the noise of the equipment was incredibly loud. My guys were operating jackhammers,
while the SolarLight team had brought in a really cool hydraulic hammer attached to
a backhoe loader. Tomorrow, SolarLight would bring even more heavy equipment to the
site and begin loading and hauling away the old asphalt.

Once the old area was completely cleared, we would excavate a hole deep and wide enough
to contain the large underground water tank that would store the runoff from the canopies.
Then, with guidance from the engineers, we would dig six-foot holes in which the thick
steel canopy posts would stand. The posts would be encased in a three-foot-thick concrete
base. At every step, the company’s engineers and experts would be configuring the
electrical grids and solar panels to provide both battery-charging stations and outdoor
lighting.

Once the posts were erected, we would begin leveling the soil and layering the aggregate
materials that would make up the base beneath the outer asphalt surface. In anticipation
of our subcontractor’s laying down the asphalt, SolarLight had brought in an asphalt
paver—a massive piece of machinery—to press the hot asphalt mix down into the base
layer until the surface of the lot was smooth and even.

Sadly, the company had also brought its own drivers to operate the heavy machinery,
so my crew and I had to assist on the ground. Even so, it was always fun to work around
these monstrous machines and watch how they could tear the earth apart and put it
back together again.

“Hey, boss,” Sean said when the hydraulic-hammer operator took a break and we could
all hear ourselves think again. “You ought to buy one of those monsters for the company.”

“Oh, sure. And I suppose you’re offering to operate it?”

“Absolutely.” He flexed his muscular arms for me. “I could rock that thing.”

“I’m sure you could,” I said with a grin.

“Think about it, boss. It’s an awesome machine.”

“It’s noisy, anyway.” I was thrilled to see Sean’s good mood returning more and more
with each day. Good, hard work helped, although he’d had some setbacks and I expected
him to have many more. Every so often I would catch him staring off, and I wondered
if he was thinking of Lily. I was still worried that he wasn’t getting out much. I
hated to think of him sitting home alone every night, berating himself and wondering
what he could’ve done to save his sister’s life. “So, what’s up, Sean? How’re you
doing?”

He kicked a pebble away with his steel-toed work boot. “You might as well know, I
talked to Chief Jensen a little while ago.”

“Eric was here?”

“No, he called me. Said he was checking my dad’s arrest file and was disappointed
to find no DNA on record.”

I had to think for a minute. Hugh Brogan had been in and out of jail for years and
he’d died only a few years ago, so why didn’t they have his DNA on record?

“Did he say why he wanted it?” I couldn’t imagine Eric confiding in Sean that his
sister had been pregnant when she died, but who knew? Would Eric actually ask Sean
if he thought his father was capable of raping his own daughter and then killing her
when he found out she was pregnant?

It was a horrible possibility, and I hated even the remote chance that Sean might
have to deal with it.

“You remember I told him that I thought my dad was capable of killing Lily?”

“Yes.”

“So Eric said he would look into every possible scenario and let me know what he found
out. But now without my dad’s DNA . . . it’s like he’s hit a wall.” Sean shrugged
helplessly.

“Do you have anything that might contain his DNA?” I asked.

“That’s what Eric wanted to know. I’ve tried to think of anything of his I might’ve
held on to, but I don’t have a thing.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I got
rid of everything in his house before I sold it. Believe me, nothing he owned had
any value, sentimental or otherwise.”

“I understand.” I squeezed his arm in sympathy and tried to see all of this from Eric’s
perspective. “You’ve already submitted to DNA testing, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, at least you’ll be cleared of any wrongdoing. That’s all I care about right
now.”

He smiled. “You just don’t want to lose an able-bodied worker to do your bidding.”

I grinned, pleased that he was able to find something to joke about amid all the unhappy
stuff. “That’s right, so get back to work.”

“Yes, Your Boss-ship.” He backed away, bowing.

I walked away happy.

*   *   *

All afternoon, as the guys and I worked together to break up the asphalt, I marveled
that Sean’s sense of humor was still intact. But according to Wade and Douglas, Sean
had turned down several of their offers to meet for drinks or dinner after work. That
worried me. If he was avoiding friends and spending evenings alone, was he growing
more depressed? It was hard to tell his real feelings from just seeing him at work,
because it would be natural for him to put up a good front around his boss. I wondered
what I could do to help him out, but couldn’t come up with anything. And the earsplitting
noise of the hydraulic hammer wasn’t helping me think.

Later that afternoon, I saw Callie waiting at our usual meeting spot. “Ready to go?”

“Would you mind if I stayed at school a while longer?” she asked. “I met a girl in
one of my classes who’s starring in the spring play. She said I could come by to see
the rehearsals, and she’ll take me home later. If it’s okay with you, I mean.”

“That sounds like fun. Mind if I tag along?” I quickly added, “I won’t hang out with
you, but I’d love to see what they’re doing.”

“Sure,” she said, surprising me. “And we can hang together if you want. I don’t care.
Let’s go.”

I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t tagging along solely because I was worried
about Callie. I really did want to see how the rehearsals were going. I especially
wanted to see if the carpentry crew was as good as they were when I was in charge.

That was my story and I was sticking to it.

On the way to the theater building, I texted Mac to let him know we’d be home a little
later than expected. We reached the stairs leading to the auditorium just as the door
opened and Whitney walked out.

“Oh, great,” she said. “Way to ruin my day.”

“Callie, you go on inside. I’ll be just a minute.” There was no way I was going to
put up with Whitney’s insults in front of Callie.

“Are you sure?” Callie asked. She was frowning at Whitney, and I wanted to hug her
for sensing danger. Not that I was in any real danger, but Whitney was definitely
not a friend. I was impressed that Callie had recognized it instantly.

“Sure,” I said easily. “I’ll see you inside.”

“Okay.” She jogged up the stairs to the door. Swinging it open, she disappeared into
the building.

“Who’s that?” Whitney asked, her voice free of disdain for once.

“A friend. Why?”

“She’s cute. Is she a student?”

“Yes,” I said with caution, wondering why she wanted to know.

“Does she want to try out for the cheerleading squad?”

I decided to cut Whitney a tiny bit of slack, only because she’d said something nice
about Callie. “She’d probably enjoy it, but she’s a temporary student visiting from
out of town, so she wouldn’t be a good choice for the squad.”

“Oh. Too bad.” Whitney started to walk away, then stopped. “Oh, and just as I suspected,
you had to go and snitch to Tommy about me hiring Cliff.”

“I didn’t snitch,” I said calmly. “I was just dropping off the blueprints you asked
for, and Tommy didn’t know what I was talking about. So it’s your own fault for not
getting your story straight with him.”

“Well, it’s really unfair and selfish of you to keep Cliff from doing one teensy job
in my home.”

“You’re remodeling a bathroom,” I said. “That’s not a teensy job. But that’s not even
the point. Tommy and my father had a business arrangement.”

“Whatever. I just wanted to do something nice for Cliff, and it figures you’d get
in the way.” She sighed. “Do you even remember him from high school? I was sooooo
in love with him, it was crazy.”

“Funny, I thought you were in love with Tommy.”

“Of course I was,” she snapped. “But Cliff kept asking me out. I actually think he
was in love with me.”

“Gosh, I’m really sorry to get in the way of all that love.” I wanted to hurl. Better
yet, I wanted to tell her that Cliff had asked out almost everyone, including me,
numerous times. Even better, I wanted Whitney and Cliff to go jump off a real cliff.

I said a hurried good-bye and dashed up the steps and into the auditorium. I found
Callie sitting on the aisle halfway down from the stage and slipped into the seat
next to her.

The teenage girl on stage was singing “Do-Re-Mi” from
The Sound of Music
. She was really good, very theatrical and very pretty, although she appeared to be
wearing a short blond wig to look more like Julie Andrews in the movie. It looked
unnatural, but she probably didn’t want to cut off her hair just to play the role.

Callie leaned over and whispered, “Isn’t she great?”

“She is.”

The kids playing the Von Trapp children were good, too. I would have to inform the
festival committee that we had a hit on our hands. The spring play coincided with
the town’s spring festival, so it always drew a good crowd.

A minute later, the song ended and the director clapped her hands. “Good job, everyone.
Much better, Sarah. That was beautiful.” She consulted the tablet she held. “We’ll
break for five minutes, then rehearse scene seventeen next.”

“Come meet Sarah,” Callie said to me, and I followed her up the aisle to the stage.
Her actress friend waved and came over to the edge.

“You made it,” she said.

“I’m so glad I did,” Callie said. “Oh, my gosh, Sarah, you’re so good. I’m so impressed.
This is my friend Shannon. She’s a contractor. She’s the one who’s building the new
parking structure. Don’t you love her hair?”

“Hi.” We shook hands and the three of us chatted for a quick minute, until the director
came over to say something to Sarah.

“This is Ms. Matthews,” Sarah said. “She’s the best drama teacher ever.”

“Hello, Ms. Matthews,” I said.

Ms. Matthews smiled indulgently as I introduced myself and Callie. Sarah beckoned
Callie to join her a few yards away so they could have a private conversation, leaving
me to talk to the drama teacher. I liked her. I guessed she was in her early thirties,
close to my age. She was pretty, with dark hair and eyes, and she wore neatly pressed
jeans and a long striped sweater.

“I give you permission to call me Lara, by the way,” she said, her eyes sparkling
with humor. “I’m one of those mean teachers who insists on being called by their surname.”