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Sweet Tea and Secrets Page 10


  He took a card from his wallet and scribbled his cell and home phone numbers on the back. “Here. Call me if anything happens, or you think of something. Anytime. You hear me?”

  She held the card tight. It gave her a sense of power, although she prayed she wouldn’t need it. “Got it.” She walked him out to his truck. “How many cars do you have these days? Every time I see you you’re driving something different.”

  “After Ruth and I broke up I had to find something to fill up all my spare time. So I turned a few wrenches on some old junkers for quick money, but I couldn’t part with all of them.”

  “That’s one way to get through a heartbreak. After Garrett and I, well, I threw myself into my work. That’s a little harder to do when you’re sheriff of a town that has hardly any crime.”

  “Yeah, well you coming back has been pretty good for business. Where were you back then when I needed a diversion?”

  Jill waved goodbye to Scott.

  She snatched her keys from the hall table and headed toward the door to do a quick ride-by. Garrett’s office was only a couple of miles from the house, but if he’d gone into town, that was a good twenty minute drive. He couldn’t have made it to town and back yet. If he was at his office, then there was a possibility the he was the person who left her trapped in the attic.

  “Stop it,” she admonished herself. “This is nuts.” But the self-admonishments didn’t stop her from wanting to check it out.

  Revving the engine of her BMW, Jill sped down the lane. Out of habit, she used the blinker as she turned left out onto the single lane road. A few new homes dotted what used to be Mr. Miller’s crop fields. He’d passed away last summer. His kids had probably sold the land for a huge profit. Too bad. Once the open land was gone, it was gone for good.

  As Jill sped down the road, she wondered what she’d say to Garrett if she did find him at his office. She didn’t want to sound like she was accusing him. Although he had broken her heart, she couldn’t believe he’d do anything to harm her. Maybe she should let Scott handle the situation. Even if Scott and Garrett went way back, it was Scott’s job to find out who locked her in the attic. Protect and serve and all that. Who else could’ve gotten by Clyde without him barking?

  She lifted her foot from the accelerator to slow the car through the tight curve that twisted back toward Route 58. At the stop sign, she thrummed her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for a break in the traffic so she could pull across and head west. Eighteen wheelers used this road to get from Tidewater to I-95. On a summer day like today, there was even more traffic as people traveled to the mountains and south to Florida on vacation.

  This intersection used to be nothing but fields. Now, a gas station sold lottery tickets on one corner, and a new auto repair business looked to be doing a pretty booming business on the other. Next to that was a small building with a peppermint-striped awning—Penny’s Candy & Soda Shoppe. The parking lot was full. Pearl had told her that Penny was going to open for business this summer. Jill made a mental note to stop in and pay her a visit before she left town.

  The cotton crop across the way was full, but not yet flowering. Peanuts were planted along this road at nearly a two-to-one ratio. Probably in hopes of a good harvest this year. The last couple of years, the weather hadn’t cooperated at all. The drought had kept the crops from growing to their full potential, and the livestock farmers were feeling the pinch, too. Just when the hay had finally reached a height suitable for baling so the farmers could cut and turn it, they’d gotten that rain they’d been praying for. Unfortunately, the rain ruined what would have been mediocre hay, at best. Good planning and the right commitment couldn’t make up for Mother Nature’s idea of a joke.

  Jill came up on the air strip on Route 58 and realized she’d driven right past Garrett’s office. Daydreaming always did get her in trouble. She took the next paved road and turned back around.

  Leaning forward, she eyed the addresses down the right side of the busy road. A trucker came up fast behind her but she didn’t speed up. He’d just have to go around.

  A large new building stood right next to the little white house that used to be Malloy’s business.

  “No. Way.” She veered to the edge of the road to get a better look.

  The hand-painted sign she’d had Mary Claire paint for Garrett as a Christmas gift a few years ago was gone. Malloy Country Design and Builders in shiny burgundy script on a professionally sandblasted sign now marked the location. An inky black, freshly-paved driveway led to the front door. No gravel drive here. The building was beautiful— a perfect blend of country and purpose. The landscaping assured her that Garrett hadn’t overlooked even the smallest detail. No surprise there.

  Jill realized she’d have to pull into the parking lot to see if his truck was there. She drove up the emergency lane and turned into the lot. A light blue Toyota was parked out front. Two white trucks and a work trailer were parked on the side of the building. A tall wooden fence partitioned the front from the back. Inventory and equipment were probably stored behind it for future projects. By the look of things, Garrett had modestly understated the growth of his business over the past year.

  Jill got out of her car and caught the door before it slammed, clicking it closed. She wasn’t sure why she was being so quiet, except that part of her was still considering turning around and leaving before anyone saw her. Garrett’s truck wasn’t here, but now that she was, she was finding it hard to resist checking out the place.

  Custom railing of black iron and chunky wood flanked the steps to the front door. She held the rail as she took each step. It was warm from the sun. She paused with her hand on the handle of the heavy mahogany carved door. Holding her breath, she pushed the door open and stepped into the front office.

  As soon as she cleared the threshold, a young dark-haired beauty shot out from behind the large desk and threw her arms around Jill’s neck, catching her completely off guard.

  “Jill, I heard you were in town.”

  Jill couldn’t place the face in the quick glance she got, but the bundle of energy disguised as a girl definitely recognized her. Jill tried to smile as she feigned recognition. She scanned the room for a hint at who was greeting her. No nameplate on the desk. Darn.

  “You look as great as Garrett said. Aunt Milly said you were too thin, but you still look like the prettiest Pork Fest Queen we ever had to me.”

  Milly? Then it fell into place. “Elsie?”

  “Yeah. I bet you didn’t recognize me with the dark hair.” She twisted a curl toward her face.

  “Last time I saw you, you had bleached-blonde hair—short, spiky bleached-blonde hair.”

  “That didn’t last long. Billy likes natural girls,” she explained. “Did Aunt Milly tell you about my wedding? Look at this ring. Isn’t it to die for?” She flipped her hand up in front of her face, wiggling her fingers to flash the tiny stone in the princess setting.

  “Congratulations. Aunt Milly told me about you getting married. So who’s this Billy guy?”

  “Billy Privet.”

  Jill recalled Pearl telling her about the Privet boy going off to the service after a knee injury blew his chance to get a college football scholarship. “I didn’t know he was back. I thought he joined the Marines. Wasn’t he in San Diego, or somewhere out west?”

  “He was. He did his four years and came back. Hey, it’s kind of funny that I’m getting married before you, isn’t it?”

  Thanks for making me feel like an old maid, Jill thought. “Well, timing is everything.”

  “I guess.” Elsie stroked her ring finger. The newness of the ring obviously hadn’t worn off yet. “Speaking of timing, Garrett isn’t here. He had to go to town this morning.”

  “Oh. Did he just leave?”

  “No, he left earlier this morning. He wasn’t here long, grabbed some paperwork and left around nine.”

  That would have been soon after he left her place. Maybe he’d been telling the truth a
fter all, but then she’d never known him to be a liar.

  “When should he be back?” Jill asked, but her mind was filled with the big question. If it wasn’t Garrett that locked her in the attic, then who?

  “Not sure. He called a while ago. Some problem at the courthouse. One of his permits is hung up.” Elsie paused. “You okay? You look kinda’ pale all of a sudden.”

  “No. Yeah, I’m fine,” Jill answered, only half paying attention to Elsie as her mind raced back to the attic and what could’ve happened.

  “Can you stick around? I’ll show you my engagement party and shower pictures. It was the best shower ever.”

  “I’d love that.” Elsie had been a pest when they were kids. She’d wanted to do anything and everything that Jill did. Since Aunt Milly and Pearl were best friends, so Elsie usually got her way.

  “Cool. I’ve got them in my car.” Elsie raced for the front door, thrilled to share her big plans with her hometown idol.

  Jill took in the grandeur of the front office. The room had a floor-to-twelve-foot ceiling fireplace that would warm the space with no problem at all, with room for fifty guests easy. The furniture was high quality. She ran her fingers across the soft leather. Sturdy, thick leather hide too, not the cheap thin stuff that smushes under your fingers.

  Curious, she peeked into the corner office.

  Her breath caught. Mary Claire’s hand painted sign hung framed on the wall next to the bookcase, but that wasn’t all. The special pine needle basket Jill had woven around the antlers from one of the bucks Garrett shot the winter of 2002 took the honor of the center shelf. The buck had been a 12-pointer and Garrett had been so proud of that trophy deer. The project had taken her nearly five months to complete, and trying to keep it a secret had nearly killed her. Flanking the antler basket were pieces of pottery she’d thrown and fired in 2006 in a blue that had become her signature color. The first plate she’d ever fired and woven with green pine needles around the edges was propped on a fancy wooden shelf. Modeled after an Indian piece she’d seen in a picture at the library, she’d won a ribbon for that plate at the State Fair. Garrett had kept them all.

  The strong smell of leather and furniture polish didn’t hide the spicy smell of his aftershave. Not the fancy high dollar stuff that Bradley splurged on, but the same scent Garrett’s dad, and probably his dad’s dad, had worn over the years. The kind you could still buy at the drug store. Like Garrett, the scent was spicy and manly, fresh and familiar. She inhaled the welcome scent as she looked at the sketches tacked on a bulletin board next to photographs of homes in various states of completion.

  He was a remarkable architect and builder, no denying that. A large easel held a thick board with color drawings of a neighborhood. Garrett was living the dreams they’d once shared, without her. She grabbed the back of the desk chair, trying to saddle the emotions kicking up. Why did I think his life would stand still after I left?

  The walls closed in on her a bit. She sat in the big chair behind his desk. She spun toward the desk and laid her forearms on the cool wood. In through the nose, out through the mouth, she repeated as she tried to convince her body to relax.

  When she lifted her head, her own image stared back at her from the corner of his desk. In a frame was the picture of her with Garrett at the Pork Festival. The same one Pearl had on her mantle. She grabbed the picture and held it to her chest. He hasn’t moved on.

  Jill heard Elsie come back into the building, then call from the front room.

  Jill stiffened momentarily then scrambled to get the picture back in its place.

  “In here.” Jill lifted her eyes towards the door trying to look relaxed.

  Elsie practically skipped into the office. “Here you are.”

  “You said to make myself at home, right?” How embarrassing to be caught in Garrett’s office.

  “Sure.” Elsie opened the photo album on the desk. “Here are the pictures from the shower. Look there’s Pearl and Aunt Milly.” Her smile waned. “Oh dear, you know me. I can get so wrapped up in myself. I’m sorry about Pearl.”

  Jill slid a sisterly arm around Elsie. “It’s okay. Trust me. I need the escape.”

  Elsie rambled on about the bridal shower, flipping through picture after picture of the gathering. Pearl had frozen mint leaves and raspberries into ice cubes, and Milly made her famous sugared fruit to adorn the table. Nobody ever ate the beautiful fruit decorations. They were just too pretty to eat.

  “Do you think I’m planning everything by the book? I don’t want to screw this up. I can’t tell you how many hours I spent in the library trying to get all the rules down.”

  “It’s your wedding, Elsie. You can do things however you like.” Jill reminded her.

  “I know. I just want it to be perfect. I don’t want it to be one of those horrible Country-Fried Weddings on CMT that everybody laughs about.”

  Jill had caught an episode of that show. Visions of brides in camouflage gowns and riding off on four-wheelers came to mind. She’d been to a few here in Adams Grove that had been close seconds to those fiascos. The unfortunate red-hoop-skirted bridesmaid from the day of Pearl’s surprise party came to mind. She couldn’t blame Elsie for her obsession on this point. She’d probably be the same way.

  “Macy is going to do a big makeup makeover thingy with all my girlfriends instead of a bachelorette party. You have to come. It will be so fun. You know Macy is back in town, right?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “It’s like all the cool people are coming back just in time for my wedding.”

  Jill took that moment as her opportunity to get the heck out of there before Garrett got back. “I gotta’ run Elsie. Thanks for sharing all of this with me. You’ve already made some great memories.”

  “I’ll let Garrett know you came by.”

  “No.” Jill spun back around. “No need to do that. I’d rather surprise him.” Jill hoped Elsie would keep the secret. How would she explain her visit? She wasn’t a good liar, and that wasn’t a talent she cared to start practicing now.

  “Oh, yeah, he would totally love that. He misses you, ya’ know. Still keeps your picture right there,” she pointed.

  Jill glanced back toward the picture on Garrett’s desk. She hugged Elsie, promising to come back and visit before she went back to Savannah.

  Her mind reeled the whole way home.

  If Garrett wasn’t responsible for the incident in the attic, then who was?

  Chapter Nine

  Doink, doink-doink. The hollow sound of the rolled paper tube echoed as it bounced to the floor when Jill opened Pearl’s front door. Clyde ran towards her and picked up the tube, wagging his tail ready for the game.

  “No, boy. I don’t think that’s for you. Drop it.” He did. He was smart. “Thanks, buddy.” She tugged a note from behind a red rubber band around the rolled papers.

  J -

  You were supposed to re-hide the hide-a-key somewhere else. Hope you don’t mind me dropping these by. I thought you’d get a kick out of them. I’ll check in later.

  G

  She must’ve just missed him. The rubber band sounded like a banjo as she rolled the elastic to the end while walking toward the dining room. She unrolled the stack of paper across the table, placing the centerpiece on the right end to hold them open.

  Impressive. There were six blueprints detailing the neighborhood of country homes with metal roofs and long covered porches. She’d seen these sketches in his office just moments ago, but had only caught a glimpse. Of course, he didn’t know that. When she’d suggested colored metal roofing two years ago he had pooh-poohed the idea saying tin roofs were cliché.

  “Ah-ha, you did like my idea.” At least one of her ideas had gotten in. Their dream had been to build a sustainable agriculture community of homes where no property would be less than five acres. A local live-in barn manager would oversee a common livestock area and community crop-share so the neighbors could enjoy fresh vegetables each season.
The development was the perfect way to satisfy the city slickers who wanted to come to their tiny town and sustain the agriculture that was such a big part of its charm. The best of both worlds. She’d convinced Garrett to incorporate an Artisan Center at the entrance of the neighborhood where she could have a studio herself and highlight other local talent, like Mary Claire and her art work, and hand-stitched quilts from the local quilters circle. The road frontage was on busy Route 58. The Artisan Center would provide a barrier between the homes and the traffic, and would generate business from those that traveled up and down the busy roadway.

  The studio wasn’t in these plans, but that had been her passion, not Garrett’s.

  She scrolled the top blueprint back and scanned the others below. They were incredible. The designs were large and breezy but the homes had purpose, not just square feet to add up to big spaces.

  The last one in the stack was the plat showing about 250 acres with road frontage on US-58 and Bridle Path Way. One edge snugged right up against the Meherrin River. A nice piece of land, and nearby if she was looking at the survey right. The last of the large papers swirled back into a big loop.

  She could picture the children working with their livestock for the annual 4-H show, or taking riding lessons then storing their tack in the huge barn. The community would be made up of happy families who appreciated the basics and understood what being neighborly was all about.

  Since she’d left Adams Grove to work with Bradley, there’d been a string of extravagant parties, fancy clothes, shoes that cost more than a paycheck, and trips to exotic places she’d never heard of. But the kids that went to the Kase Foundation youth camps would benefit from her travels, and that was the most important part of it all to her. She collected special items in each of those swanky locations for the charity auctions. It had been rewarding to see the things she’d brought back bring top dollar, but the work never felt personally fulfilling. She’d never seen the final outcome of that work, not yet anyway.