Crowned and Moldering (20 page)

“I think that’s so much better.”

“Me, too. It helps tap into that innate fear of grown-ups every teenager has.”

I laughed out loud; you had to have a sense of humor to teach high school. “Have you
been working here long?”

“It’s been three years now. How about you?”

“I’m a building contractor. I’m putting in the new parking structure out by the tennis
courts.”

“Oh yes. Everyone’s excited about that.”

“It’s really innovative, all solar-powered, and it’ll collect water, too, and save
lots of money. But don’t get me started.”

She laughed. “So, have you seen
The Sound of Music
before?”

“Only a few dozen times. I love it.”

“I’m glad. I played Maria in high school and again in college. I’ve always loved the
music.”

I studied her a little more closely. “You have the look of Maria.”

“You mean nunlike?” she asked, laughing.

I laughed, too. “Not at all. But you do look like you can handle a bunch of wild children.”

“Definitely,” she said with a smile. “Even though I have none of my own, I do an excellent
job of wrangling other people’s teenagers. And pets. I have several of those. No husband,
luckily. Not yet, anyway.”

I chuckled. “You’ll be thrilled to know that I was the head carpenter when I was going
to school here.” I pointed toward the back of the stage. “That looks like one of the
flats I built the year we did
Grease
.”

“You did good work,” she said. “Do you want another job? We just lost our head carpenter
to the varsity baseball team.”

“Oh no. Can one of the other kids step up?”

She looked around to make sure we weren’t being overheard, then whispered, “They’re
not the most talented group I’ve ever worked with.”

I winced, because really stage decoration had as much as acting to do with the success
of a play. “Sorry about that.”

We chatted for another minute, until it was time for her to call the kids back to
the stage. “Nice talking to you, Shannon.”

“You, too, Lara. I’ll see you at the play.” As I walked out of the theater, a brilliant
idea began to form in my mind.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I asked, as Sean and I crossed the high school campus
after work the following Monday. “It would just be for a few weeks, until the play
is over. My friend is a little worried that things won’t get done in time.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Sean said. “It’ll get me out of the house a few nights a week.”

“That’s really generous of you.”

And clever of me, too,
I thought, but it wouldn’t do to crow too loudly.

Sean held the door for me and we walked into the auditorium, down to the edge of the
empty stage, where I looked around for Lara Matthews. “She must be here somewhere,”
I muttered.

“Break’s over, guys,” Lara shouted as she walked out onstage, staring at her tablet.
“Come on. Shake a leg. I need the Von Trapp kids front and center to rehearse ‘So
Long, Farewell.’ Everybody onstage.”

She glanced down and noticed us when I waved. “Shannon? You’re back. Are you a glutton
for punishment?”

“Hi, Lara,” I said, smiling. “I came up with a solution to your carpenter problem.
This is Sean, one of the guys on my construction crew. He’s willing to help out your
carpenters for a few weeks, if that works for you.” I turned to Sean. “Sean, this
is Lara Matthews.”

They stared at each other for a moment; then she stooped down and stuck her hand out.
“Welcome to the show, Sean.”

He shook her hand, grinning. “Nice to be here, Lara.”

Lara gazed at me. “Wow, you make good things happen.”

I shrugged modestly. “Just want to make sure the carpentry crew shines.”

*   *   *

That night, flush from my brilliant introduction of Sean to Lara, I walked down to
the pub to pick up a celebratory burger for dinner. As I was about to place my order,
Eric walked in.

After greeting me, he asked, “Are you meeting someone?”

“No, I was going to get something to go.”

“Why don’t you join me?” he said.

“I’d love to.”

The waitress showed us to a booth along the far wall and took our drink orders. I
was willing to admit it was not a hardship to gaze across the table at him. “You come
here a lot, right?”

“Yeah. This and the wine bar are pretty much my go-to places when I don’t feel like
cooking.”

“Mine, too,” I said. “But I might be a little prejudiced when it comes to the wine
bar.”

“True—your uncle owns the place. But I can speak objectively. And I say it’s the best
Italian food around.”

“On behalf of Uncle Pete, I thank you.”

We both smiled. Everyone knew my uncle owned the wine bar. It was officially known
as Bella Rossa, but more commonly was referred to as the wine bar on the square.

As soon as our drinks were served and we’d ordered our food, I said, “Anything new
on the crime-fighting scene?” and had the pleasure of watching him scowl.

“You just asked me that to watch my blood boil, right?”

“No, but that’s a delightful side benefit.”

He shook his head and glanced around. “I’m not about to tell you anything while we’re
sitting here, but I will say that we’re not much farther along than we were when I
saw you in my office the other day.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I glanced around, too. The booth was one of the most secluded
in the pub, but I still thought it best to lower my voice. “I spoke to Sean. He said
you didn’t find what you were hoping for.”

He knew what I was talking about and nodded somberly. “It’s too bad. On the other
hand, I’m not sure if those tests would’ve proved much, anyway.”

The DNA tests, I guessed. “You mean, because the mother’s genetic code and her father’s
would be too similar to discern?”

He was scowling again, but it was still sort of fun to talk to him cryptically.

Eric leaned over to whisper, and he was so tall that he almost reached my ear. A good
thing, because what he said next was totally confidential. “The real problem is that
the tests won’t be conclusive, no matter what. It’s got something to do with the genealogical
pattern of chromosomes descending within the patrilineal line vis-à-vis the matrilineal
line.”

“Translation, please.”

His laugh was short and humorless. “That’s a direct quote from the medical examiner.
Bottom line is, it’s not worth our time and money to test Hugh Brogan’s DNA.”

In my head, I decoded what he’d told me. That Lily’s DNA was too close to her father’s
DNA for anyone to tell if the baby was his or not.

With a sigh, I said, “I think it’s for the best.” When he looked puzzled, I lowered
my voice to a bare whisper and scooted closer. “If I were Sean, I would hate to know
that my own father had raped my sister, then killed her when she got pregnant.”

He grimaced but had no comment.

“Because that’s basically what you’re trying to prove by testing Hugh’s DNA, right?”
I sat back. “And that’s just too horrific a scenario to contemplate.”

He gazed at me for so long that I started to wonder if I had food smeared on my cheek
or something.

“You know, Red,” he said, “for a civilian, you’re pretty darn smart.”

I clutched my chest dramatically. “Oh, be still my heart. That may be the nicest thing
you’ve ever said to me.”

He was grinning now. “I know. Don’t get used to it.”

“Ah, that’s better. The earth has returned to spinning around its axis.”

*   *   *

The next day, all went according to plan. I drove Callie to school, and we walked
together until we reached the parking-lot construction site; she kept going to the
building.

Several hours later, it was getting close to lunch and I had just turned off the jackhammer
to relieve the relentless shaking of every bone in my body. I usually let the guys
work that particular piece of machinery, because even though I had rather awesome
upper body strength for a woman, I couldn’t match Sean’s or Douglas’s ability to hold
and control the machine.

It made me wonder if Sean’s idea of buying—or, better yet, renting—a hydraulic hammer
for jobs like this would be a more reasonable idea all around. It would save wear
and tear on my guys because, let’s face it, jackhammers were brutal on anyone’s system.
I could protect them from the noise level by requiring them to wear their headphones,
and I was a regular maniac when it came to wearing protective eye gear, but what could
I do about the body-jarring effects of the machine? I usually mitigated things by
setting a time limit and making the guys switch jobs so that no one man had to suffer
for hours at a stretch.

Naturally, my guys loved using the jackhammers, although if given a choice of sticking
with those battering machines or switching to one of those gigantic hydraulic hammers
that the SolarLight guys were operating, I’d bet they’d go with the big hammer.

As I set the jackhammer back in its portable carrier, I saw Douglas coming toward
me with purposeful strides.

“Hey, Douglas. You going to lunch?”

He pressed his lips together, looking like he was thinking about something, then blurted,
“Cliff Hogarth has offered me a lot of money to go work for him.”

I almost choked on my own breath. It was as if he’d kicked me in the stomach. My head
began to spin and all I could do was nod distractedly. “I see. Okay. Thanks for telling
me.”

Before he could make excuses, I walked away. I didn’t want to hear how much more money
he could make or whatever else Hogarth had promised him. As soon as I was far enough
away that he couldn’t see me, I started running all the way to my truck. I was sick
to my stomach and out of breath by the time I got there. Douglas had worked for me
for five years. He was a part of my family. “But he’s not your family,” I muttered
angrily as I fumbled for my keys.

My eyes were hot with unshed tears, but not for long. As soon as I got inside the
truck, I slammed the door and locked it, then laid my head on the steering wheel and
started to cry. After a minute, I lifted my head and wiped away the tears. All I needed
was for someone to see me and tell Cliff Hogarth that he’d made the girl cry.

I didn’t even know if Douglas was going to take the job with Cliff, but I couldn’t
imagine him turning down a huge raise, either. I paid fair wages, but Cliff was clearly
not above bribing my guys.

“I hate him!” I shouted, and pounded the steering wheel really hard, wishing it were
Cliff Hogarth’s head.

“Ow! You idiot.” That hurt. I had to shake my hand and flex my fingers to make the
pain go away. I didn’t need to break my hand on top of everything else.

I looked around the parking lot, knowing I had to get out of there before someone
came along who knew me. Without thinking too hard, I realized where I had to go. I
shoved the truck into gear and took off toward Main Street. I pulled into the closest
parking space and stormed over to the inn.

In the restaurant, the hostess smiled. “Do you have a reservation?”

“No.” I pushed past her and spied my target across the elegant dining room. He sat
at one of the power tables in front of the wide plate-glass window that overlooked
Main Street, the pier, and the ocean beyond. He wore another expensive black suit
and his hair was perfectly coiffed, as usual. All in all, he was buffed and polished
to precision, and looking at him, one would never guess he’d ever soiled his soft
hands working on a construction site. He was dining with my friend Dave, another local
contractor. Wasn’t that just dandy?

As I stomped closer, I had a vague thought that it would probably be a good idea to
calm down first, but that was impossible. I was incensed. This confrontation had been
too long in coming, and now I was a runaway train, ready to collide with my worst
enemy.

“Cliff Hogarth,” I said crisply, and marveled that my tone was relatively modulated.

“Why, it’s Shannon Hammer.” He actually looked surprised to see me, and that just
infuriated me more. “You know Dave, don’t you?”

“Of course I know Dave. I’ve known Dave for years.” I turned to Dave. “Hello, Dave.
Nice company you’re keeping.”

“Hi, Shannon.” Dave had the good grace to recognize my wrath and avoided direct eye
contact.

Cliff gave me a smarmy smile. “We’d invite you to join us, but . . .” He glanced around.
“I’m afraid there’s no room for another chair.”

“I wouldn’t join you if you were the last man on earth. The poisonous stench you give
off would ruin the excellent food here.” I edged closer so he could hear every word
I said. “I am sick of you bad-mouthing me to my clients, stealing my workers behind
my back, and trying to undermine my business. If you don’t back off immediately, I
will make you sorry you ever showed up in this town again.”

He chuckled and tried to appear blasé, but I could see his neck turning red. “Is that
a threat?”

“No, that’s a promise.”

“Oh yeah?” he said cockily. “Good luck with that.”

I leaned over his table and jabbed him in the chest for emphasis. “And good luck surviving
a slander lawsuit, you creep.”

And then I turned and walked out of the place.

*   *   *

Back in my truck, I had to breathe deeply. The initial rush of fury was gone and I
was crashing precipitously. I glanced around and realized I was parked where anyone
in town could see me, so I had to get away from there.

I turned on the engine and started driving. I went east to Highway 101 and then drove
north. A few miles later I exited, and it was only then that I realized I was headed
toward the nursery. And that was a good thing. I could wander the pathways and stare
at pretty flowers for a while and maybe bring my heart rate down a little.

I walked for twenty minutes and finally sat down on a worn burl bench in front of
a miniature waterfall that had been created by redirecting part of the brook to spill
over a short wall of slate bricks. It was a charming sight, but it was the sound of
the water babbling and gushing that most appealed to me. It was a happy sound, and
it drowned out my own voice repeating itself over and over in my head.

That’s a promise.

You creep.

I covered my face with my hands. It had been stupid of me to verbally attack Cliff
Hogarth in public like that. But what else could I do? I had endured his direct assaults
as well as the shadowy rumors of certain malicious comments from him. I had brushed
off Ms. Barney’s concerns after Hogarth berated her and slandered me. And I’d barely
tolerated Whitney’s idiocy over the guy. But now he was trying to take Douglas from
me and it was suddenly very personal.

The whole town knew what Cliff was up to, so there was no point in pretending otherwise.
So, really, what had I done that was so bad? I’d stood up for myself, my crew, my
business. I’d showed everyone that I wouldn’t roll over and play dead for a low-life
interloper like Cliff.

I could rely solely on my own good reputation to see me through this crisis, or I
could hire a lawyer and sue Cliff. If I chose to go the way of a lawsuit, I wondered
how much damage I might’ve just done to my case by confronting him personally. I supposed
there was only one way to find out. I pulled my tablet out of my purse and made a
note on my calendar to call our business lawyer tomorrow and find out.

I put away the tablet and began walking farther down the path, wandering among the
plants and greenery. I’d done this before, of course. Gardens had always soothed me,
ever since I was a little girl and my mother, Ella, who was a botanist, had taught
me all about gardening. I could still picture her laughing as I tried to grow green
beans up the side of the house.

“Oh, dear.” I had to stop and concentrate on the feathery leaves of a nearby willow
tree. Thinking of my mom often brought me close to tears. And memories of my mother’s
death reminded me of Lily’s kindnesses. I desperately blinked back the waterworks.
Today had already been overly emotional for me and I really hated to cry. It turned
my eyes red and my face puffy, besides clogging up my head and making me feel like
a sad little five-year-old.