Читать книгу To Love And Protect - Muriel Jensen - Страница 13
ОглавлениеBEN WENT TO town in the afternoon while the children made more ornaments for the tree. On an errand to buy more lights, he decided to make a detour to the local newspaper office.
Querida was too small to support a daily newspaper, but the Weekly Standard had its office in an unpretentious storefront in a strip mall on the other side of town.
The editor, a tall, slender man Ben guessed to be in his forties, seemed to be a one-person operation, except for a receptionist. He introduced himself as Will Fennerty.
Ben asked him if he could take a look at all the articles that had run that year on the Querida government, particularly Robert Pimental, the chief of police and Cyrus Tyree.
“I can,” he replied. “Fortunately for you, there’s no such thing as a weekend off in the life of a small town editor/publisher.”
Will provided copies in twenty minutes. He leaned across a battered counter toward Ben and asked if he was from the attorney general’s office.
Ben laughed and asked if the Querida town government required such attention.
The man nodded. “It absolutely does, but with just myself doing the reporting, I don’t have the staff to follow up on all my investigations. And if I don’t spend half my time selling advertising, I won’t survive anyway. I’d suggest if you’re going to look into things, find out how a deputy mayor in this tiny town can support a palatial home on Ocean Drive in Corpus Christi.”
“Doesn’t Pimental have to live in Querida to work in its government?” Ben asked.
“He has a modest little place here, too.”
“Maybe his wife has money?”
“She was a car salesman’s daughter from Dallas.”
“So, his job here is funding the Corpus Christi lifestyle?”
“I think so.”
Ben remembered that elegant Ocean Drive neighborhood because that was where Tyree lived. He, Jack and Sarah had trailed Corie there the night of the robbery.
“And nobody’s noticed? I mean, what’s a town this size doing with a deputy mayor, anyway?”
Will shrugged. “The mayor had ALS. When he was voted in he brought along Pimental, who had a car agency in Manzanita. The two of them were childhood friends. Since the mayor’s illness has become completely debilitating, Pimental’s been pretty much on his own.”
Ben was beginning to see the picture.
“Pimental’s behavior is largely ignored because the rest of the state doesn’t care about Querida. We don’t really produce anything and the landscape isn’t exactly inspiring. The police chief also seems to live far beyond the salary of a small-town cop. There’s so much going on in city hall, I wouldn’t know who’d be safe to report it to if I did have an airtight case.”
“Wow. I have a friend fighting eviction—”
“Teresa McGinnis. Cyrus Tyree seems determined to get her out of there,” Fennerty conceded.
“It doesn’t seem like the house is prime property.”
“I don’t get that, either. His father left it to him, along with a few other properties in Querida and Manzanita. I think he treats those the same way—never fixes anything and is always chasing the rent.”
“I understand Corie Ochoa went to the deputy mayor for help,” Ben added.
Will laughed. “Yeah, that was rich. He tried to get her to pay him to help and she beaned him with her purse. Didn’t take that very well. Just not a nice man.”
“I understand. And...one more thing.”
“Sure.”
“Did you report on the theft of Tyree’s wife’s jewelry?”
“I did. It happened in Corpus Christi, but he’s well-known around here.”
“TV news reported that Tyree had surveillance cameras.”
“Yes. Want to see for yourself what they got?”
Ben suppressed any reaction, hardly believing his luck.
Will let Ben in behind the counter, walked around his desk and invited Ben to take the chair beside it. He stabbed in a few commands to his laptop and turned the screen toward Ben.
“Since it’s from a private security system I had to get permission, but Tyree seemed happy enough to give it to me. It’s clear he was robbed.”
Ben’s stomach sank. “By whom?” he asked innocently.
The copy of the film began to play. “That part’s not so clear. It’s impossible to identify anyone.”
Ben watched shadows moving among the bushes in the dark. The makes and models of the vehicles were impossible to determine, and license plates weren’t visible. That was a major relief.
He turned the screen back. “Do you suspect anyone?”
“No. Every other person in Querida and Corpus Christi dislikes Tyree. And his wife has serious pretensions, so any number of people would be happy to see either or both of them taken down.”
“Thanks.” Ben stood and shook his hand. “I appreciate your help, Will.”
Ben went to Wolf’s Hardware to buy three strings of one hundred-foot lights, per Teresa’s instructions, several boxes of plain ornaments and a box of bubble lights, thinking the children would enjoy seeing those at work. He also bought an inflatable Santa Claus and Mrs. Santa for the front lawn. If Teresa was horrified by it, he’d just take it home with him—whenever he went home.
As Ben headed out of town for Teresa’s, he noticed Corie pulling into a parking spot near the restaurant, ready to begin her shift. He punched his horn and she waved.
* * *
A SPICY AROMA tantalized him when Soren opened the door at his knock—along with two of the Santiago brothers and all of the Stripe Sisters. “We’re having spaghetti for dinner, and you’re invited.”
“What did you buy?” Bianca stood on tiptoe to see the contents of the bag he carried. He lowered it to the coffee table so they could look inside.
“What’s this?” Carlos took out the flat inflatables and unfolded them. “Look! Santa. And Mrs. Santa. And they’re big!”
The other kids abandoned the bag for the big, red-suited Claus couple. Santa had a giant sack and the missus held a teddy bear and a candy cane.
“For the lawn?” Soren asked.
Ben nodded. “If we have a bicycle pump or something for blowing up an air mattress, we can inflate them tonight or tomorrow and put them out. But we should probably ask Teresa first.”
The Stripe Sisters went into the kitchen to do just that.
Teresa came to the kitchen doorway, wooden spoon in hand. Soren and Carlos held up the figures. She smiled broadly. “You’re a child-spoiler, Ben Palmer,” she said. “Can you stay for dinner?”
The atmosphere was different without Corie. Not that she was ever particularly happy to see him, but he was discovering that he wanted to see her. He had thought about going to the Grill for dinner.
But the children jumped up and down at the invitation. Rosie, who was setting the table, told him Teresa made the best spaghetti. “You have to eat some salad with it, but the spaghetti’s really good. We have garlic bread, too.”
Ben felt himself relenting. He’d been loved his entire life, and he’d always dealt well with his friends’ children and those he came across in his work, but he’d never experienced this almost-adoration before. He put it down to these children living in a household run by women. He was a new and different experience for them.
“Please,” Teresa added. “I’d like to repay you at least a little for all you’ve done for us today.”
“I’d love to,” he said. “Thank you.”
An argument followed among the children about where he would sit. Teresa settled it by placing him between Rosie and Soren, who were already bickering. “We have a dinner guest,” she said, focusing a pointed gaze on each child. “Soren, please pass him the garlic toast.”
