Warrior of the Ages (Warriors of the Ages) (13 page)

“You scared me, Chief Costas, you walk like a ghost! Are you here to arrest me for cleaning on a Sunday? I assume you got my note.”

“You reported your car stolen.”

“I reported my car lost. Let me guess, I’m going to be arrested for filing a false report?”

That idea had potential. “I’m interested in how you lost your car.”

Beth waved an airy hand focusing on wiping down her cabinet. “I got it back—you probably noticed it out front.” Glancing at him she suddenly stopped, her eyes alert and knowing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The woman saw entirely too much.

Setting the rag down and leaning across the counter towards him, she stared into his eyes without blinking. He could not remember a time, outside one of his childhoods, when any woman had voluntarily moved so close to stare into his face, but it felt natural with Beth.

“Why are you here about my car now?” she demanded.

“I just heard about it a few minutes ago.” The inquiry had inexplicably shifted.

Those knowing eyes watched him and he fought the urge to move away, sensing it would betray him in some way, besides standing so close to that heart felt right. Something warned him this woman could read a face well, even his own usually inscrutable face, so he didn’t pull back.

“Yeah? When I called they were a bit snippy, it surprised me. Your force seemed so professional and polite, when they arrested me without cause. Even when they issued me twenty-two tickets in the past thirty-six hours.”

Twenty-three. He wondered if she’d gotten the IRS audit notice yet. “Dispatch is answered by county and then transferred to us.”

“Chief?” Beth stared into his eyes as though measuring his reaction to her next words. “Why are all the local cops men? It’s weird in this day and age.”

“Are you interested in applying?”

Chuckling she went back to wiping her cupboard and Kahtar stood a moment, considering leaving rather than stir any suspicion, and then risked another comment.

“Who borrowed your car?”

“One of my new employees—and I only called because I got worried about her.” Again Beth turned to stare into his eyes. “Why are you asking? Something is going on isn’t it?”

Adopting his best blank stare he said, “I’m just following up, glad your employee brought your car back.”

“Now that you have me thoroughly worried. She didn’t bring it back, but you know that.”

“How’d you get it back?”

“GPS coordinates. I found it in the driveway at her house. There were less than fifteen miles on it.”

“Why’d you give your car to someone who wouldn’t bring it back?”

“She doesn’t have one and she was going to take her girls to the zoo this weekend. You are scheming, Chief, but you’re not nearly as good at it as you think. The thing is are you trying to get me to tell you something about her or just looking for new ways to torment me?”

“Trying to get you to tell me something about whom?”

“Brenda. Brenda Blake.” This wasn’t proving to be difficult at all. Beth answered every question with unusual candor, despite the animosity she had to feel towards him.

“I don’t report idle gossip, but don’t count on Brenda Blake showing up for work in the morning.” Both statements were true, even if they were misleading. Something warned him not to try to lie to Beth.

She put her hands on her hips. “Seriously? Did she run off with one of your cops?”

“I’m not going to gossip with you. Just be glad you got your car back.” Instinct sent him towards the door. If he stirred Beth White’s suspicion about Brenda Blake, she just might bring her lawyer friend in. He considered his questioning a success when the enthusiastic bouncing of Beth’s heart followed him out the door. She suspected nothing to upset her.

CRAMMING A CARDBOARD box full of items, Beth wondered why she bothered. Brenda had left without a word, it was rude. Tucking some candy into the corners for the girls, she grinned. Kent Costas was unhappy, hopefully that meant his officer had married Brenda. The woman had been obsessed with those cops, though Beth couldn’t recall a particular one. She’d assumed Brenda had liked them all. She looked at the address in Charleston that Cliff had given her, and decided to hunt up sunscreen for her impulsive ex-employee.

Beth decided she’d have to go get a cashier’s check for Brenda’s wages, because apparently identity theft had emptied her checking account.

Surely they’re not really going to keep my money.

A worrisome thought intruded that maybe it really had been identity theft, if that were the case she probably should be handling everything differently. By differently that would mean actually doing something about it. Beth eyed the pile of mail sitting on the mahogany counter. So far she’d ignored the closed accounts, missing money, and incoming piles of citations and notices, listening to her gut instead of her brain. If somebody really had robbed her electronically, four years of commuting between Frankfurt and Amsterdam might have been for nothing.

Not for nothing, I’ve got this place.

Digging through a pile of silk scarves she lifted out several bottles of sunscreen.

I’m an idiot. Dad will have a cow if he finds out what is going on.

Impulsively Beth dropped the bottles on the counter, grabbed a trash can, and brushed the entire pile of mail and tickets into it. It was highly unlikely her father would think to ask her if she was being run out of town on a rail, or had been robbed of everything she’d worked for in a period of twenty-four hours.

Beth was surrounded by lies and she knew it, there was just no way to explain it to anyone without sounding insane.
The entire village is plotting to oust me, but they don’t mean any harm.
Jamming sunscreen into the box she laughed out loud.
With the exception of Marge at the Department of Public Safety who definitely would like to see me harmed.

DRESSED IN HER favorite yellow dress, Beth took a seat on the top step of Sweet Earth’s front porch and slowly folded a paper bag shut. It was 3:00 a.m. and the brown paper bag crinkled loudly. Strange how much noise electricity usually makes. She never noticed that until it wasn’t around anymore. It would be nice, if she didn’t need it!

Beth yawned so wide her jaw cracked, and she rubbed it, wishing she drank coffee because she was most definitely not a morning person. Leaning forward she hugged her knees and wrestled the next yawn into a very unattractive hiccup-burp sound. It seemed to her the best defense against this village’s offense was to turn enemies into friends. If not friends, at least business partners and she had experience with those. The globe was crawling with contacts Beth had made over the years. If the people running this village really thought fining her and taking her money would make her go away, that might be a really good thing. While they waited for her to pack up and leave, she and her business partners would show them just why they needed her.

To Beth’s surprise the gardener didn’t show up, but a little boy moseyed around the corner of the house dressed in some sort of weird superhero costume.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” At the sound of her voice, the poor kid jerked straight up in surprise and conked his head against the stair railing. Beth raced down the steps and knelt in front of him to check his forehead.

“Are you okay, Buddy? Sorry I scared you.”

“That’s okay!” The kid rubbed his chest and grinned at her.

Beth pressed her fingers against his forehead, his skin felt warm and she fought the urge to hug the little guy. With his mop of black hair and bright green eyes, dressed in the silly costume, the kid was almost unbearably cute. She laughed when he reached his arms around her and hugged tight. Less than a minute later, he perched on the stairs with her, sharing fat slices of her Mom’s homemade bread spread with strawberry jam. The loaf should have been breakfast the next couple of days, but the kid polished off the entire loaf and then ate the entire jar of jam by digging in it with the butter-knife and shoveling it into his mouth. Beth gave him a wooden box with a dozen jars of the jam to take home, instructing him to tell his Mother to share it with friends, because she had crates of it.

Following the boy across the wet grass, Beth stood on the front porch of the house next door, when two young men came outside. Judging by their expressions of surprise and the fact that they rudely shoved the little boy inside, Beth garnered that they both knew who she was and weren’t inclined to stay and chat. Shoving her paper bag into the arms of the nearest fellow, she smiled at him.

“Good morning. I wanted to share some of this tea, if you like it and want more you can have all you like. I have plenty.”

As though unable to be completely rude, the burly fellow kept the package but told her bluntly, “We’re not interested in buying your tea.”

“It’s a gift,” Beth was unable to completely keep the hurt out of her voice. “Besides I can’t get a permit to run my shop, and since I’ve accumulated so many nice things, I’m just going to give it all away. These things have a shelf life and I want to share them. I’m not interested in making money I’m just interested in…” Beth considered for a moment, trying to put the elusive thought into words for once, “being here.”

The two men glanced at each other and then without thanking her they backed through the doorway without another word.

Well. At least the little boy had been nice.

MOVING HER LIPS silently, Beth mentally rehearsed exactly what she was going to say, berating herself mentally.
You will do this, and you will keep your big fat mouth shut.
Tote bags and her big purse weighing her down, arms loaded with heart shaped fabric boxes she had to back through the door into The Department of Public Safety’s office. Marge sat behind the counter and her little eyes narrowed, her mouth set in a firm, definitely uncooperative line.