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Authors: Diane Greenwood Muir

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Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines (12 page)

BOOK: Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines
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Polly took a deep breath. She gritted her teeth. Henry took one look at her and smiled, a coy look crossing his face.

“I did have trouble,” he said, “but that has nothing to do with why you’re here. Have you met the owner of Sycamore House?”

The young man looked up and had the decency to blush, “No, I haven’t. I’ve heard a lot about you, though, Miss Giller.”

“Great,” she said. “My infamy precedes me?”

“What?” he asked. “Oh no! Not from the station, though I’ve heard that, too. My aunt and uncle own the hardware store. She’s your mailman, Lisa Bradford?”

“Come on in,” Polly said. “The kitchen is back here.”

“I was here for the barn raising last January,” he said. “That was quite a day.”

“It was a lot of fun,” she agreed. Henry winked at her behind the young man’s back.”

Obiwan followed them and when she told him to sit and stay in the corner of the kitchen, he stopped and watched while they picked their way through the glass.

“Here’s one of the rocks,” Bert said, leaning over to pick it up.

“Fingerprints?” Polly asked, essentially stopping him.

“I suppose so.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a glove and a plastic bag.

“Here is another one,” Henry pointed under the prep table.”

“And I have the third one,” Polly
stopped beside the sink.

The young officer picked them up and scrawled on the bag before dropping it into his pocket. “I’ll fill out a report, but I don’t think there’s much we can do.
May I sit here and write?” He pointed to the trestle table.

“That’s fine.
Would you like something to drink?”

“No thank you, ma’am. I’ll just finish this and let you get back to your evening. Do you have a way to cover those holes?”

Polly looked at Henry, who said, “I’ll take care of it. If you’ll be here for a few minutes, I’ll go home and get some wood. We’ll close them up until the glass company replaces them.”

“I’ll wait,” Bert nodded.
             


Guys, I’ll be fine. I don’t need a babysitter.” Polly protested.

The young policeman looked to Henry for help.

“We’re not babysitting,” Henry said. “I promise. But, I’ll be back soon and I’ll take Obiwan with me. He can use my backyard while I get what I need. Then you don’t have to walk him.” He took the leash from her and walked over to Obiwan and snapped it on.

Polly followed him. “I know what you’re doing.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t want me walking around the property tonight. You’re making me stay inside.”

“I’m trying to be as efficient as possible. That’s all.”

“Whatever.”

“You sweep up the glass. I’ll be back.”

She heard him chuckling as he led Obiwan to his truck.

“He is such a brat,” she muttered and took the broom with her back into the kitchen.

“Can I help you with that,” Bert asked.

“No, I’m fine. By the way, what’s your last name?”

“It’s Bradford, too. My dad and Paul are brothers.”

“Did you want to come back to Bellingwood to work in the department?”

“Yes ma’am. It’s a good place to live.”

Polly had about had it with being ma’amed. She knew he was just being polite, but enough was enough. She sat down across the table from him, still holding the broom.

“Officer Bradford?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“About that ma’am thing. You really should try to control it.”

“What do you mean, ma’am? We’re taught to be polite.”

“Most young women don’t like to be ma’amed. I’ve been known to pour coffee down a guy’s front for it.”

He blanched a little, and then asked, “What would you prefer?”

“You can call me Miss Giller if you need to be formal. Now that you’ve met me, Polly works just fine, too.”

“Am I offending every woman when I say that?” Both his face and his voice were quite sincere. He was so young.

“Probably not. Older women …
” she stopped and giggled, “much older women are probably fine with it, but if you think they’re under forty, you might want to be careful using it too often.” She winked at him and stood back up. She’d seen a glint of light on a piece of glass and wanted to make sure she’d completely swept the room clean.

“Yes, ma … Miss Giller,” he corrected himself. His face was bright red and he went back to his report.

“Your father would have your head for being so mean,” Polly said quietly to herself and laughed out loud.

Bert looked up. “Ma’ … Miss Giller?”

“Yes?”

“Oh, I didn’t know if you needed something.”

“No. I was just thinking about my dad. It made me laugh.”

He stood up and brought the paperwork to her. “If you could just sign this here and here,” he pointed to the form. “I’ll get it filed. I’m sorry we can’t do any more for you tonight.”

“I suppose it would have been too much to ask for the ground to be wet so you could take casts of footprints.”

He laughed at her. “Yes. Probably. Chief Wallers will come out tomorrow.” He sat back down at the table and slowly went through the motions of putting things away.

“You’re waiting for Henry to get back, aren’t you?”

The poor young man looked up at her, obviously unsure of what to say or do.

“Do you men have some kind of code where you know that the other one is asking you to protect the poor female?”

“No?” Then he sighed. “I can’t leave. He’d kill me.”

She laughed. “I’ll make it easy on you and let you stay. I have some pumpkin bars upstairs. Would you like something?”

“Really, I’m fine. Mindy brought chocolate chip cookies to the office. I’ve already had too many.”

Polly dumped the glass into the trash and returned the broom to the storage room. She hoped she had everything, but since she was the only one who ever wandered around Sycamore House in bare feet, she wasn’t too worried.

The front door opened and both she and Bert Bradford jumped up. She heard footsteps going up the stairs and said, “Must be Lila Fletcher coming back in for the night.”

“Lila Fletcher?”

“One of my guests upstairs.”

“Oh.”

They heard another door and footsteps approached the kitchen. Natalie Dormand looked in and saw him and her eyes grew wide. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

“We had a little vandalism,” Polly replied. “Nothing to worry about. Officer Bradford is just finishing up and about to be on his way. Can I get something for you?”

“I’m having trouble settling down, so I thought I’d see what there was to eat in here.”

“Come on in. I think Sylvie has chocolate chip cookies in the freezer. How does that sound?”

“Amazing! I never get home cooked food, especially baked goods.”

Polly strode over to the freezer and took out a container filled with cookies. She filled the plate and handed it to Natalie, saying, “If this doesn’t do, come back for more.”

“Thank you,” Natalie replied. “I’ve been working all day and this will be perfect while I read. Good night.”

“Pretty busy around here tonight,” Bert Bradford observed.             

“I suppose it is. The guests know they can wander around all they’d like. They know how to reach me if they need anything. Are you sure you don’t want a cookie while I have them out?” she asked, holding out the container to him.

“No. I’ve had too many already.”

Obiwan came in just after Polly heard the back door open. She put the container back in the freezer and said, “You guys weren’t gone very long. Are you good for the night?”

“He’s good,” Henry said, coming in. “He took care of everything.”

Bert stood up, “Well, I’ll be off. Call if you need anything more.”

“Thanks Bert,” Henry reached out to shake his hand.

“Miss Giller,” Bert Bradford said, shaking her hand as he walked past.

“Good night, Officer,” she called out as he left, then she turned on Henry. “You are a brat.”

“I know. I’m terribly ashamed. I’m going to get the ladder and I’ll think about my bad behavior while I’m working.”

He boarded up the windows and when they headed back upstairs, he picked up an overnight bag he had dropped on Andrew’s desk under the stairs.

“What’s that?” Polly asked.

“I’m sleeping on your couch,” he replied.

She simply laughed and opened the door to go upstairs. “It won’t do me any good to argue with you, will it?”

“Nope. Live with it, pretty girl.” He kissed her cheek, then patted her bottom as she went up the steps first.

“Stop it,” she said, swatting at his hand.

“Never.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Polly emerged from her room. “I think I finally know what to do with it.” Henry had gotten up earlier, was showered and dressed and drinking a cup of coffee at her dining room table. She wrapped a robe around herself, and the animals followed as she headed for the coffee pot.

“Do with what?” he asked.

“I think I know what the key is to Thomas’s flash drive.”

“There’s a key?”

“I think so. That’s why nothing has made any sense. It doesn’t seem to have any organization to it. But I think it does.”

“When did this come to you?”

“When all crazy things come to me. You know that time between being asleep and really waking up? I let my mind relax and that’s when I realized there was a key to unlock the pattern.”

“What’s the key, then?”

Polly poured a cup of coffee and sat down beside him. She pulled her laptop over and swiped to turn it on.

“I’m not sure what it is exactly, but one day Thomas and I were sitting at the Joe’s Diner talking about books and authors and other weird things. He told me that he had a special affinity for Edgar Allan Poe.”

Henry nodded and took a drink from his mug.

“I think it’s because of his youth,” she said.

“What
are you talking about?”

“Thomas lost himself in the drug culture in San Francisco in the sixties. He was a talented author, but couldn’t get it together. His family had some money and he was an only child, so he went to Berkeley and managed to graduate. He even published some early mysteries. They’re kind of fun. But then everything went to hell.”

“Wasn’t Poe some kind of drug addict?”

“He wrote a lot about it, but I think he had more trouble with alcohol,” she replied. “Anyway, one of the reasons Poe fell apart was because people he loved died and he couldn’t get past it. Thomas lost the love of his life while he was living in San Francisco and it destroyed him. He’d already gotten himself pretty messed up, but when she was gone, he lost everything.
He would pull it together to write a novel and then he would fall apart again. Up and down he went with each novel.

“Well, it was his fiftieth birthday party that did it for him. He went to the party and there was hardly anyone there. People had gotten so tired of his lifestyle, they just quit showing up. He’d lost everyone in his life that mattered and it was his own fault. So, he decided he didn’t want to live the rest of his life like that. It took two years. He was in and out of rehab. His agent literally hauled him out of a gutter one night and he went back into the clinic and committed to stay there for six months. He said that he still fought that demon and it’s been thirteen years since he quit drinking.”

“Wow. I had no idea.”

“Have you ever read any of his mysteries?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. How did he find himself in Bellingwood?”

“He said that he heard about Sycamore House and thought it would be a good place to finish his next novel. But I don’t think that’s all he did. He was always doing research and spent a lot of time driving around.”

“So, tell me about the key you figured out.”

Polly quickly typed into her browser. “I’m going to have to spend some time with this today. We talked about a lot of Poe’s stories. Thomas taught several classes at CUNY on Poe’s work. He really knew his stuff. One of the stories was about a cipher, but I can’t imagine how Thomas would have used it.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Henry said and went back to the coffee pot. “So what’s up for you today?”

“We’re close to having things
ready for the Black Masque and Lydia and her crew are nearly ready for Halloween. Sylvie will be here this afternoon and then I’m in Des Moines this evening.”

“What are you doing in Des Moines?”

Polly laughed. “I really don’t tell you anything, do I? I’m sorry.”

“You’re bad that way. So what’s in Des Moines?”

“Obiwan and I have a few weeks of training. He is going to be a reading therapy dog at the library.”

“So, Obiwan is learning to read? I know he’s smart, but wow.”

“No, you nut,” she laughed. “Little kids will read out loud to him. Talk about no judgment. He’ll just be glad to have attention.”

“So how long does this training last?” he asked.

“Are you asking me how long I’ll be gone tonight or how many weeks we’re doing this?”

“Well, both … but mostly, when will you be back tonight?”

“We’ll be gone for a few hours each week for the next few weeks. There’s a certification test mid- November.”

“That’s pretty cool, Polly. I’m proud of you. There isn’t much you aren’t willing to take on, is there?”

“I figure this will be fun for both of us and it will get me busy in a library again.”

“Okay, I’d better go. You have to feed the beasts and I’m building cabinets for the Millers’ kitchen remodel.” He bent down and kissed her. “I’m glad nothing else happened last night.”

“Oh, that’s right!” she exclaimed. “Who should I call about replacing the glass in those windows?”

“I’ll make the call and then let you know when they’re coming.”

Polly stood and followed him through her bedroom to the top of the steps. “Thank you for taking care of things last night, and thanks for staying. I know my couch isn’t that comfortable.”

“It’s better than my couch.” He kissed her and
left.

“He’s pretty good to me, Obiwan,” she said to the dog who
was focused on the missed opportunity to go outside.

She pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt, glanced in a mirror and moaned. “Well, at least he didn’t run away because of my morning hair,” she said to no one in particular.
Grabbing a ball cap, she pulled it over the mess on top of her head and went into the living room. Both cats were on the kitchen counter, looking at her with pitiful eyes.

“I’ll be back. Stay calm,” she said. “Come on, Obiwan. We’d better get this morning started before they panic.”

She met Eliseo in the barn. “Good morning,” he said. “I saw Henry leave. Is everything okay?”

“Someone broke windows out in the kitchen last night. He covered them and is calling the glass company.”

“What’s going on around here?” Eliseo asked.

“I wish I knew. It scares me. Henry was worried last night, too, so he stayed on my couch.”

“You can’t think of anyone who would do this?”

“I’ve only lived here for a little more than a year. I
can’t believe I had enough time to really make someone so angry.”

“That’s really strange. It’s not one of your guests?”

“They’re too involved in their own business to spend time thinking about how to vandalize my building.”

They went to work mucking out stalls. Demi was feeling especially playful with Polly and when she turned her back on him to pick up a large mass of
muck, he nosed her in the butt, nearly sending her face down into the bedding.

“Hey!” she said. “Stop that.” She felt like he was laughing at her and opened the door so he could go outside. If he was finished eating, he could get out of her way. He started through the door, then stopped and shook himself from head to tail. “Sheesh,” she muttered, “I didn’t need the breeze.”

When they were finished with chores, she and Obiwan went back to the apartment. The cats had given up and were curled up on the sofa. As soon as she set foot in the door and walked to the kitchen, they came fully alert and ran to follow her.

Luke
stretched out across the path in front of her. “You’re going to be the death of me. I’m getting your food, let me walk!” Leia parked herself in front of her food dish. When Polly attempted to fill it, Leia rubbed against the container, just as she did every morning. The cats were always a good distraction from the world.

After a shower
, Polly got dressed and headed back to the kitchen. She was still hungry, so she pulled out a loaf of bread, sliced two pieces off and dropped them in the toaster. While the bread was toasting, she poured herself another cup of coffee and set it down on the dining room table, and then went to her bookshelves and pulled out her
Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe
. She wasn’t sure what Thomas had done, but she was sure that she would find it in this book.

One evening he had been in her apartment, browsing through her bookshelves. She was astounded at how well-read he was. Writing took up so much of his time, she couldn’t believe he had time to read and that he enjoyed reading the classics.

The toast popped up and she dropped the book on the table as she went past. The thud caught the attention of her animals, but they went right back to their food. Back at her laptop, she opened the folder containing Thomas Zeller’s files. If she could figure out the puzzle and the order these things were meant to be in, she knew she could get closer to what it was he wanted her to know.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Lydia.

“Can you do lunch at Davey’s today? Sylvie is going to be back in town, Andy isn’t at the library, and we all should bond. Yes?”

Polly smiled. Trust Lydia to make good use of a time when they would all be free
. “I’ll be there. What time?”

“One o’clock. Will that work?”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

“I love you, dear!”
came the response.

The thing was, Lydia really did love her. Polly didn’t know what she would do without her friends. These women had gone out of their way to welcome her to Bellingwood. She’d never known anyone quite like Lydia Merritt. She was always busy, but had plenty of time when people needed her. She was a wonderful mother to her kids, a terrific cook, a great wife to her husband, she organized a million things at church, she was head of the Bellingwood welcoming committee and managed to make it all look easy. Polly hoped that she would be half as capable someday.

Before she could get back to the puzzle in front of her, her phone buzzed with another text.
“The glass company will be there tomorrow afternoon. I love you, pretty girl!”

That made her feel warm inside
. Henry had seen her at her worst that morning and he still called her pretty girl. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with his confession that he’d fallen in love with her before they’d begun remodeling Sycamore House. At that point, she was still coming off the rawness of a terrible relationship and hadn’t been ready for another one. But Henry never pushed. He just stuck around. When she got scared, he kept sticking around and waited while she figured it out.

She
insisted that she wasn’t ready to be married and he never argued. Every once in a while, though, a flicker of something more crossed her mind. Polly sat back in her chair and raised the mug of coffee to her lips. Was she really thinking about being married to Henry? What would that even look like?

She had no desire to live anywhere other than Sycamore House,
so how would they make that work? They couldn’t live in this small apartment. It was big enough for her and three animals, but there wasn’t room for another person. She didn’t want to live in his house. He refused to move into the master bedroom because it was too strange to sleep where his parents had slept and he hadn’t changed anything after his parents moved south. But his shop was right there and it was a wonderful house. She loved his front porch. They’d spent some wonderful evenings sitting in the porch swing during the summer, watching the world go by.

They had talked around some of the issues in their relationship, but Henry was insistent that they didn’t have to play by anyone else’s rules and that they weren’t in any hurry. She had never been able to corner him on what he wanted for his future. It wasn’t his fault. She knew he was trying to keep her from being terrified at the prospect of making a long-term commitment. But what if she was ready? How would she tell him that? Was she going to have to go down on a knee and propose?

Polly laughed out loud, startling the animals. While she’d been quietly sipping coffee and thinking about her future with Henry, Obiwan had curled up beside her on the floor and the cats had settled in on the table beside her laptop.

BOOK: Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines
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