Читать книгу Hers To Protect - Catherine Lanigan - Страница 18
ОглавлениеVIOLET DUMPED SOME vegetable soup into a bowl and shoved it into the microwave. Her thick black belt, holster, handcuffs and gun were methodically arranged on the sofa table her mother had given her when she moved into Mrs. Beabots’s apartment. Though she’d picked up her clean uniforms from the laundry, Violet had re-pressed the shirt, taking out the tiny crease she’d seen on its back.
She chuckled as she extracted a soup spoon from her organized flatware drawer. Her mother, Connie, often kidded Violet’s compulsive need for order and cleanliness had finally found a purpose in her “spit-shine” world of law enforcement. Violet didn’t think she was all that obsessive. There was right and wrong. Good and evil. Black and white. “And clearly, clean and dirty.”
The microwave dinged. She took out the soup just as her cell phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Violet,” Mrs. Beabots said, “don’t think about eating that sodium-laden canned soup. Come downstairs for dinner. I have pasta and chicken in a pesto sauce. Homemade.”
Violet narrowed her eyes. She’d known Mrs. Beabots since she was a child, and the woman always made her think she had eyes in the back of her head. “How did you know what I’m having for supper?”
“I’m a detective.”
“You saw the cans in my trash bag.”
“That, too. Now come down here for dinner. Sarah and Maddie are coming over. And Liz is bringing wine. Oh! I hear Liz’s truck now. She really does need to get that muffler fixed.”
“See you in a sec.” Violet looked down at her skinny jeans, sky blue high-top sneakers and powder blue turtleneck cotton shirt. She was comfortable and had planned to go for a walk after dinner. Now that it was May, the evenings had finally warmed to a brisk fifty degrees, and she loved the flowering Bradford pear trees and forsythia. Having grown up in the country, she’d never appreciated town living, but after six months living on Maple Boulevard, she’d found it had innumerable charms.
Violet tucked her cell phone in her back pocket and walked down the long staircase to the main floor landing. She heard voices and laughter, and she could smell the aroma of garlic and basil coming from under the door. Her stomach growled. “Guess I do need more than soup.” She knocked on the back kitchen door.
“Come on in, honey,” Mrs. Beabots said. “Door’s always open.”
Violet entered the kitchen to find Sarah Bosworth, the next-door neighbor, architect and mother to Luke Bosworth’s children Annie and Timmy. Sarah and Luke’s toddler, Charlotte, looked just like blonde, cornflower blue–eyed Sarah.
Sarah hugged Violet. “It’s great to see you. Where’re the kids?”
“Luke got pizza and a movie. Need I say more?”
“Nope.”
Next to Sarah was Maddie Barzonni, owner of Cupcakes and Coffee Café, and married to Dr. Nate Barzonni. Maddie was breaking up romaine lettuce leaves into a huge wooden salad bowl and giggling with Liz Barzonni, owner of Crenshaw Vineyards. Liz was removing a cork from a bottle of wine.
“Hi, Maddie.” The women hugged. “Hi, Liz. That a new wine?”
Liz held up the bottle. “Very special pinot noir.”
“Special?” Violet asked.
Mrs. Beabots winked. “Violet. You’re just in time for our toast.”
“Oh? What are we toasting?”
Sarah beamed. “I just beat out the rock star of all Chicago design firms for a new medical complex on the east side of town.”
“I never doubted your design abilities, Sarah,” Maddie said as she took a glass of wine from Liz.
“I know and I love you for it, but there were days...” Sarah looked across the kitchen to the window that looked out on the adjoining yard to her house.
“Hey,” Liz said. “That was after your mother died. Before Luke. Before the kids. You got your juice back.”
“And then some,” Mrs. Beabots said, handing Violet a glass.
They clinked their rims and said, “To Sarah!”
“Congratulations, Sarah,” Violet said. “I know the relief and satisfaction that comes from winning those contracts. Whenever my mother would win a design bid, she’d make us all a nice dinner just like this.” She smiled at them all. “You should be proud.”
“Thanks, Violet,” Sarah said.
Maddie lowered her glass. “Gosh, Violet. Your mom wasn’t one of the other bidders, was she? Connie is so talented, I’d feel terrible if she lost.” Her eyes tracked to Sarah.
“No. She’s working on a high-rise residential tower in Indianapolis.”
“Oh.” Maddie’s relief was audible.
Violet stared at the wine. Indianapolis. Where Josh Stevens lived.
Where had that thought come from and why would she be making that connection? “Um, can I help with any of these preparations? I always made the herbed butter for the bread.”
“Sure,” Mrs. Beabots said, handing Violet the bread knife. “I set the table earlier. This was supposed to be a think-tank dinner and a meeting for the fund-raiser for a new foster child care center I want to spearhead.”
“Really?” Violet unwrapped the silver paper around the Italian bread. “Tell me about it.”
“I want a privately funded and operated family center. No government funds or grants. That way we don’t fall under their jurisdiction, though we will comply with all state and federal regulations. But in the end, our arms will be open to whatever needs there are. Drop-in day care. Possibly a temporary shelter until a family gets back on their feet. I envision job-placement service. Even job training.”
“That’s...an enormous undertaking,” Violet replied, knowing the massive amount of organization and money it would take to create such a center. But it had been done before. The Star of Hope in Houston had been doing it for over a hundred years.
“I’ll need help, of course, getting it off the ground.”
“Did you call Isabelle? Since she and Scott have adopted Bella and Michael, I would think she’d be all over this.”
Smiling, Mrs. Beabots answered, “She was my first call. She’s my committee chair. But little Michael was showing signs of the flu, and she didn’t want to leave him.”
“That flu can be bad,” Sarah said.
“Especially for a toddler,” Liz, the mother of two-and-a-half-year-old Zeke, said. “I hope he’s okay.”
“I didn’t talk to Isabelle today,” Violet said. “I was on a stakeout.”
Sarah stopped grating Parmesan cheese. “Seriously? A stakeout? Isn’t that dangerous?”
To Violet, not apprehending a criminal was dangerous to the entire community, and that motivated her more than any harm she would encounter. Her exemplary training would see her through. She would count on her skills. Bank on her instincts.
She winced.
Except for today.
She could only imagine what Detective Davis was thinking about her performance today. In the morning she might have to face Chief Williams.
Violet slid the bread into the oven and set the timer.
Maddie helped with the angel-hair pasta, draining and rinsing it in a red plastic colander under cool water in the sink. “Olive oil?”
“Middle of the island,” Mrs. Beabots said, adding finely chopped sun-dried tomatoes to the pesto.
They continued prepping the food. Maddie had brought her delicious and beautifully decorated cupcakes for dessert. Violet set up two French presses with decaffeinated coffee while Sarah poured cream into a small pitcher and Maddie found the raw sugar.
“I think we’re about ready. Liz, would you take the wine to the table?”
The timer dinged, and Violet took out the bread and placed it in a woven basket. She followed the group to the dining room. “I see you’re setting for yet another. If I’m taking Isabelle’s place, who’s missing?” Violet asked, sitting to Mrs. Beabots’s right.
“Katia,” Mrs. Beabots answered. “She had something come up. I’ll call her tomorrow with the details.”
Sarah acted as the server and ladled the pesto sauce over the pasta. “So, Violet. Can you tell us about the stakeout you were on or is that top secret?”
“Well, I can’t discuss all the details. But I was excited because, as Mrs. Beabots knows, I’ve been stuck either in a patrol car or behind a desk since I came to work for the ILPD. Handing out traffic tickets, which there aren’t that many of in Indian Lake, was a highlight of the week.”
“Sounds boring,” Liz said.
Maddie elbowed her. “Don’t mind her, Violet.”
“No, she’s right. It was beyond boring. What I really want to do with my career is work my way up to detective.”
“And you’d be really good at it.” Mrs. Beabots smiled. “I have a way of knowing these things.”
“Thanks for your confidence in me,” Violet said.
“So, did anything happen?” Sarah asked.
“Uh...” She searched for the right words. “Not with the perp we’re hoping to find.”
Maddie stared at Violet. “That was a hesitation. Something happened.”
As Violet looked around the table, she realized that all four women had moved to the edge of their seats.
“Are you after a murderer?” Sarah asked.
“Drug dealer?” Liz asked, holding a forkful of pasta.
“I’m not at liberty to say. At this juncture, we don’t know about murder, but it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility.”
“It is a drug dealer,” Liz said. “Listen, Violet. After what Cate and Trent went through, and poor Mrs. Beabots being the victim of a drive-by shooting in this very house, you can’t shock us.”
“That’s true,” Mrs. Beabots said. “You know all those security lights and cameras I have outside on the house?”
“Yes. It was the first thing I noticed when I came to inspect the apartment. I thought you were smart to protect yourself so well.”
Mrs. Beabots shook her head. “I didn’t do it. The cops did. Sorry. It was Trent’s idea when he was trapping that drug dealer, Le Grand. Now, I’ve inherited all this equipment.”
“That happens. And it’s good protection. Anyway, the perp didn’t show up.” Violet toyed with her pasta. “I did make an arrest, though.”
“Who?” they asked in unison.
“I can’t say. I wouldn’t be surprised if his publicity manager kills the story.”
“Publicity?” Mrs. Beabots stared at Violet. “This wouldn’t be about Josh Stevens, would it?”
Violet’s hand went numb and she dropped her fork. The silence at the table was deafening. “How. Did. You. Know?”
“Katia told me. Josh Stevens is the reason she couldn’t be here. Josh is staying with Austin and Katia tonight. She’s making crab.” Mrs. Beabots beamed.
Violet was glad she’d already dropped her fork. She had to close her mouth. Josh had said he knew Austin, but she hadn’t believed him. She simply assumed Josh was grasping for anything that would aid in his release. Lots of people knew Austin. Now that she had a chance to think about it, it made sense. Austin was a huge antique car collector. She’d heard stories that Austin’s grandfather had been a designer with the Duesenberg brothers at the turn of the last century. Austin’s father had collected cars all his life. Josh and Austin probably met at an auction or something.
She took a sip of wine.
Just my luck.
Bad luck at that. She’d arrested not only a celebrity, but one who was friends with her friends. Terrific.
Violet couldn’t have been more embarrassed. She’d only been doing her job. “He was speeding,” she said without a trace of emotion. “I ticketed him.”
“Speeding? Isn’t that what he does?” Maddie joked.
“Uh, not going down the county road in front of my mother’s house.”
“Oh, that’s not good,” Liz added.
“It’s not. I can’t tell you exactly how fast he was going.”
Silence.
“It’s a confidentiality issue,” she continued.
They continued to stare at her, like hungry baby birds.
“Well, we’ll read it in the newspaper tomorrow,” Maddie said.
“Yeah.” Violet remembered Scott’s visit to the station. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she said, “It was over two hundred miles an hour.”
All four gaped at her.
“Good for you!” Sarah exclaimed. “What if some kids were out bike riding now that the weather’s nice? They could have gotten scared, lost their balance.” She dropped her forehead to her palm. “It could have been disastrous.”
Mrs. Beabots’s eyes narrowed. “He was driving that blue Bugatti Chiron, wasn’t he?”
“I believe so.”
Sarah cranked her head up. “How do you know about Bugattis?”
“I used to own one.” Mrs. Beabots grinned. “I like to keep up. And I read in Race Car Driver Magazine that Josh bought one.”
Violet rolled her eyes. Was everyone she knew a Josh Stevens fan?
Liz sank her fork into the pasta. “It may not seem like much, Violet, but thank goodness you were there in the right place at the right time today.”
“Thanks, Liz. I needed that.”
Mrs. Beabots took a thoughtful sip of wine. “You know, this gets me to thinking about my fund-raiser. What I’m proposing is ambitious for Indian Lake,” she said. “Violet, you certainly are aware of the situation with the many foster children in the system, what with Isabelle and Scott adopting their foster children.”
“I do. And I applaud you for taking on such a task. How much do you want to raise?”
“Oh, it’s not just the money we need, Violet. Sophie and Jack Carter helped to get the Alliance Recovery Center for addiction support and rehabilitation started. They’ve made incredible progress, and their efforts are working. Though addressing the drug problem is vital, this town has to deal with the abandoned children and homeless families that are the fallout. We need a facility with day care and programs for the children and the parents. I want more than counseling. The children need activities and learning experiences. And so do the parents. Their backs are against the wall, and they’re desperate.”
“They need options,” Violet agreed.
“Yes,” Mrs. Beabots said. “We will staff it, and I personally will award an endowment so that the shelter can go on for years.”
“You will?” all four women chorused.
“Sarah, I told you I was the ambitious type.” Mrs. Beabots smiled proudly.
“Yes, but...” Sarah looked from Violet to Maddie and to Liz.
Mrs. Beabots wagged her forefinger at Sarah. “Now don’t go thinking because I’m older that I can’t do this. I can and I will. I want to leave something that will go on—after I’m not here.”
Violet reached over and touched Mrs. Beabots’s hand. “You are all heart.”
“Look who’s talking. You don’t fool me, Violet Hawks. If you weren’t trying to eliminate crime in our town, you’d be the first to take in these children and you know it.”
“Well, I’m not sure about that. I don’t have much experience with kids.” Violet felt a pinch in her heart thinking about the infants that were abandoned by addict mothers and fathers. She pushed her emotions aside. “So, Mrs. Beabots. Exactly what are you thinking? To build this kind of shelter will take millions. And just as much to staff.”
“I understand that. I have philanthropic friends all across Indiana. It’s about time I talked to them. And Maddie, I could have a chat with that friend of yours, Alex Perkins, who helped you get the investor for your café.”
Maddie folded her hands and rested her chin on them. “You have been thinking about this, haven’t you?”
“Ever since I started volunteering at The Alliance. But this idea came to fruition when Beatrice Wilcox and Rand Nelson took in those two foster boys of theirs. If more people stepped up to the plate like they did, think of the lives that would be changed forever.”
She picked up her linen napkin and dabbed her eyes.
Maddie said, “I think this is a great idea. I want to help.”
“Me, too,” Liz chimed in.
“You know I’m at your beck and call,” Sarah said.
“I’ll help in any way I can,” Maddie said. “I could organize food pantry donations at my café.”
Liz nodded. “I can help with that as well at the vineyard. In fact, we should double our efforts during harvest when we have so many tourists to the vineyard. With the holidays after that, Thanksgiving donations tend to soar.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Mrs. Beabots said.
Maddie snapped her fingers. “It should be an annual event. Maybe we could have a harvest dance and donation at the vineyard. I’ll donate cupcakes, doughnuts, cider. The tourists will love it.”
“So would I,” Liz said.
“Mrs. Beabots,” Violet said slowly, “this is a monumental task. You’re going to need more than just us. What if I were to talk to my chief? Perhaps the Indian Lake County Sheriff’s Department. Both have resources and connections we could use.”
“That’s a fine idea, Violet.” Mrs. Beabots placed her hand over Violet’s. “I’ve thought of everything from taking on one of the old mansions that needs renovation and starting there. I’ve toyed with the idea of asking Gina Barzonni to donate a tract of her farmland to build on, too.”
Maddie looked at Liz. Gina was mother-in-law to them both. “What do you think? Would Gina do that?”
“Gina adores children. I think if we presented it to her the right way, she just might. Rafe is managing the farm now, but Olivia said that he’s got two Thoroughbreds he’s been racing all spring and they are winning race after race. If he keeps this up, he won’t want such a large farm to manage. His heart is still with his horses.”
Violet caught their enthusiasm. “You know, I grew up in the country north of town. I loved it. We had neighbors, an Amish family, who let me ride their horses. Mother didn’t know, but I was always very careful. I loved working our little vegetable garden, and Isabelle planted a million flowers every spring, claiming they were magical. I thought it was the best place to grow up. If those kids had a whole farm to learn skills and play and just be in the clean air and sunshine...”
“Violet, you are so right!” Maddie said. “We have to talk to Gina about this.”
“But remember, girls,” Mrs. Beabots cautioned. “The land is only the beginning. It’s going to take a lot of money. For that, we need one huge extravaganza of a fund-raiser.”
“You can’t steal my summer festival idea,” Sarah said. “St. Mark’s still needs the profits every year.”
The edges of Mrs. Beabots’s mouth cranked up. “It’s Violet who gave me the idea.”
“I did?”
“What was the biggest gathering you all have seen since we’ve been doing fund-raisers together? Not counting Sarah’s Summer Festival.”
“The opening of Austin’s car museum,” Maddie replied.
“Exactly!” Mrs. Beabots’s eyes grew wider with excitement. “And Violet, I’m going to take you up on your offer to help.”
“What can I do?”
“Austin McCreary is sponsoring an event at his car museum. Wine and appetizers. I was thinking if you would ask Josh Stevens to make a personal appearance that night, we could sell so many tickets, people would be out the door. Better still, ask him if he’ll bring that fancy Bugatti of his for photographs of him and the donors.”
“Why not ask Austin to ask Josh?” Violet asked uncomfortably.
“Because I’ve asked Austin for a great deal more than a simple event at his museum.”
“Like what?” Violet asked.
“He’s donating a million dollars. And that, ladies, is information that remains in this room.”
They all stared at Mrs. Beabots.
“Pressing Austin for more after his generous donation might not be prudent,” Mrs. Beabots said.
“Well,” Maddie interjected, “I think this is all fabulous. And this upcoming event is perfect. I know Olivia would be happy to take photographs. She’s so talented. Maybe she can get them printed in the Chicago papers.”
“The Indianapolis newspaper would run anything about Josh Stevens,” Sarah said.
The enthusiasm was electric. But Violet felt her hands grow clammy and her mouth go dry.
She hadn’t told her friends all the truth. She hadn’t told them that in ten days she would be testifying against their hope for this project’s success.
They didn’t know anything about him other than that he was a friend of Austin and Katia’s. And how strong was that relationship?
Violet was a bit surprised that reclusive Austin would have a celebrity like Josh for a friend. Though Austin was wealthy, he came across as an ordinary kind of guy, running his father’s auto parts manufacturing company, and now a new cell phone parts manufacturing company. Austin was a hardworking entrepreneur. Violet just didn’t see the connection between status-hungry Josh Stevens and Austin.
What she did see was that there was no talking her way out of helping her landlady and her friends with this very worthy fund-raising endeavor.
Her biggest fear was that once Josh Stevens discovered that Violet was part of the fund-raiser, he would decline. Mrs. Beabots would be without a celebrity to bring in ticket sales, and Josh Stevens would race out of town so fast he’d break the sound barrier.
