Remote Consequences (14 page)

"Well, as I live and breathe…" Tate Dempsey stood before me in his muddied cowboy boots and jeans that were torn at the knee.

"Mr. Dempsey. How are you?"

He sized me up with his eyes, and somehow I didn't make the grade. "You back in town to stay?"

I cleared my throat as an image of Paget tiptoed across my brain. "For the time being."

He harrumphed. "Is what Penny wrote about you true? You accusing Dougie of murder?"

Penny was his adopted daughter, and she was the apple of this man's eye.

"I'm not sure that's exactly what she wrote, but…yes, I did find a body in the mayor's home. As I understand it, Ty is looking into it as we speak."

"That's not what I asked you, girl."

My face burned with either fury or embarrassment. I didn't know which. Somehow, this man had always been less than fond of me. I never understood why. Of course, then I'd gone and cemented the deal when I'd spilled the beans on the circumstances behind Penny's adoption. But his wife had adored me, and I'd grown up with both of his kids. Been around his home day in and day out for most of my life. But still, he'd always been less than nice to me. I'd always suspected it'd had something to do with his relationship with my father, but I'd never been able to pin it down. I could see that nothing had changed in my years of absence.

"I think I answered your question nonetheless, Mr. Dempsey. Are you having trouble with your cable?"

He seemed to want to say more. But he puffed up his chest instead. He motioned over his shoulder with a thumb. "That box in there ain't working right. Barry said you'd have to take a look at it before they would order me a new one. I think some lightning came in on the line."

"Do you have a surge protector on it?"

To this, his eyes pierced me with another dose of distaste. "I don't know anything about that. I have whatever your boss installed. It's not my fault that it's broken, if that's what your insinuating."

I pasted on my best customer-service friendly smile. I gave a brief nod and entered the darkness of the family room, heading toward the custom-built entertainment center. Framed family photos and cross-stitched Bible verses filled the walls on both sides. A few minutes later, I had the cable up and running.

"All set, Mr. Dempsey."

He looked up from the morning paper in disbelief. "What was it?"

"Just needed to be rebooted. That happens sometimes. No one's fault." I extended my clipboard for his signature.

He took the clipboard and stared down at the work order.

"Mandy…" His voice was low and cracked slightly as my name wafted over his vocal cords.

I waited.

"Your folks would have been proud of you. What you've been doing up there at school. Penny told me that you're almost a real doctor now."

A small dose of embarrassment mixed with a large dose of pride swept through me. My throat wouldn't work for a moment. Mr. Dempsey hadn't said anything nice to me in…well…almost never.

"Uh…thank you." I managed to get the words out despite my surprise. I couldn't believe that Penny had been talking about me to him, much less in any sort of complimentary way.

"I don't know how long you're planning to stay…" His wrinkled, gnarled fingers scribbled down at the bottom of the triplicate paper. "But…just see if you can try not to cause any heartbreak while you're in town."

I thought his complimentary words had been surprising. But these…these words had me totally flabbergasted. "What? I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir." My mind raced. "There's nothing going on between myself and Ty. I'm sure neither of us have even considered…" My memory flashed back to him driving by me earlier today. His eyes piercing me with both aggravation and concern. I knew he'd have something to say to me when I saw him again.

"I'm not talking about Ty." Mr. Dempsey's voice brought me back to the moment at hand.

I took the clipboard from his hand and watched his watery eyes as he pushed up from the table and faced me.

"I'm talking about Penny."

*  *  *

Penny had been adopted by the Dempsey family when she was only three months old. For a long time no one had known about the adoption other than Harmony and Tate Dempsey. They hadn't even told Ty about it. From what I understood, he was two years old when they'd brought Penny home, and he'd never remembered life without her.

Harmony had taken Penny from her sister, who was both addicted to narcotics and only sixteen at the time she had given birth. Harmony had gone home to Atlanta to stay with her sister during the latter part of her pregnancy and stayed for a few months afterwards. So it had been easy to convince the local gossips that the baby was hers. In fact, no one had ever seemed to question it. That is until years later, when Harmony's sister had come to visit.

Penny and I had been best friends at the time, and Ty and I were…well, we'd just reached the climax, so to speak, of our involvement.

One night I'd been staying over for Penny's birthday slumber party, and I'd overheard a fight between Mr. Dempsey and Harmony's sister. I'd heard all the sordid details, and she'd threatened to tell Penny the truth. Mr. Dempsey had bought her off, and she'd left the next day. Mrs. Dempsey passed away soon after from a rare case of ptomaine poisoning. I'd always wanted to blame the druggie sister, but nothing had come of it and I'd put the whole thing out of my overactive and hormonal teenaged mind—I'd never told Penny or anyone else about what I'd heard or suspected. Until…well…until Ty chose football over me, and when Penny didn't take my side despite my pregnancy fear, I'd spilled the all the sordid family-secret beans to her.

There hadn't really been a pregnancy, but they hadn't known that for sure. It had hurt me terribly when she'd turned her back on me, and I'd wanted to let her know that her family might not be worth standing up for after all, as they'd been lying to her since birth. Unfortunately, my timing was bad, and little had I known that the whole church was listening. We'd been at our church's Baccalaureate service the day after graduation and the backstage microphone had broadcasted the details all over church. I hadn't meant for it to go down that way, but it had. And I was still not even close to being back in the good graces of the Dempsey family. I wasn't sure I ever would be, but seeing how this still hurt Penny after all these years made me eager to try.

But that was a memory that I didn't have time to rehash at the moment. Right now, Barry was ringing in on my cell phone, and I had a work shift to complete.

*  *  *

My next stop was Boardwalk Apartments. It seemed like they called us in every other day or so. I guess it was because they always had tenants moving in or out, and there were always service starts and service disconnects to complete there. I didn't mind it, though. It was actually pretty simple. You just went to the switch box, more formally known as the network interface, and either flipped the switch on or flipped the switch off.

Ideally, if you were starting new service, you'd find the tenant home, and you could enter the premises and check to see if the signal was coming through clearly. If not, you could make adjustments, or better yet—if Barry had his druthers—bill them to install new wall wiring. I didn't like that part, but I did like checking the signal, because the more you could accomplish now, the less likely you'd have to revisit the same unit the following day. Re-ups—that's what we called it when we had to return to a prior work ticket to finish it up.

Probably the reason I'd been able to swing this job was because my father had been a telephone man for twenty-plus years before his death. I'd trailed along behind him on more than a few summertime work calls. The business of telephone and cable were quite similar, and Barry had been impressed that I'd been able to pick up the job solo after only a week of training with Shane. Of course, he hadn't been impressed with me so much this week. It might have had something to do with my little discovery at the Mills' house more than my technical skills, though.

Today, I was at the switch box for unit 10. I'd opened the metal box at the back of the unit, and I was rechecking my work order to be sure that I was turning on the signal for the correct unit. Unfortunately, someone had failed to number the switches with the correct unit numbers, and I was counting through them to try and figure out the right one when a shrill voice pulled my attention away from my task.

"I don't know what you are talking about, but it has nothing to do with you." The voice was raised three octaves above a screech. Though it sounded familiar, even at this high-pitched level.

I couldn't hear the recipient's voice and wondered if the screecher was on a phone call. The sound of clicking heels in the breezeway followed the voice, and I eased my head around the box's door to get a view.

Allyson Harlow.

I should have known. It had been, what, only a day since I'd been graced with her presence. I guessed I was due for another dose of humiliation and taunting. I eased my head back behind the box, hoping she was too distracted by her phone call to notice a lowly cable installer.

"I said that I
will
see whomever I choose. I'm a free woman. I don't get tied down to any man, and I don't dig jealous types." Her voice had bumped down from a screech to a slightly milder outcry as she fumbled with her large purse. She stood at the door to the last apartment on the left.

I assumed she was searching for a key. Meanwhile, I was beginning to bake as the sun reflected off the metal switch box and heated my face. But I stayed put; I just wasn't in the mood for more putdowns this morning. Besides, the fact that someone was giving her a hard time on the phone sent a jolt of jubilance through me, and I decided to keep eavesdropping.

In fact, now that I thought about it, maybe she was having a fight with Ty. She'd indicated that she was seeing him when I'd run into her at the station a couple days ago. But, then again, I didn't remember Ty as the jealous type.

"Look, they'll never find out. I promise. You were careful, weren't you, baby?" she said as I heard the key slide into the lock and the bolt slide free. "I'll see you later at O'Hannigan's, okay? We can chat about it then. Okay, Trasky-wasky?" She entered the apartment and closed the door.

Trasky-wasky?

Was she talking to Officer Chubby? As in
the
Officer Trask, as in the mayor's personal security? How many cops was she dating, anyway?

Another piece to the puzzle shimmied around in my head. But the final image was still out of reach. I finished my job and locked the box. I crept by her door and made my way to the second floor. I needed to see if the tenant was in and check the signal, and then I wanted to get the heck out of there. I had to finish my shift and then get home to meet with Colin.

'Cause the next step in my investigation had just dropped in my lap. Tonight I was visiting O'Hannigan's Pub, and I planned to go there in disguise.

*  *  *

Two hours, four static-filled screens, and a dozen dust bunnies later, I was done for the day. I parked the van at Flicks Vision and headed over to Stella. I couldn't wait another minute to get home and get changed. Washing this day off with a hot shower was just what the doctor ordered.

I'd called Ms. Lanier to check on Paget, and she'd asked how the investigation was going. I told her I'd fill her in later, and she suggested that I visit Mane Street Styles. She said that everything you ever wanted to know could be found out at the hair salon. Well, there or at a Service League meeting, but we didn't see them letting me into one of those anytime soon. Especially since Mrs. Mills was president of the local chapter.

But after news of the troubling discovery at the mayor's office and my impromptu surveillance of the Mills' river home, I needed a break from my mission—at least until tonight. And for that, I needed a plan. Maybe a little pedicure break at the salon was in order.

Of course, it didn't have anything to do with the fact that Colin was scheduled to appear this evening with an update and a lengthy explanation of all his cloak-and-dagger discoveries from earlier today and bearing more food—I could only hope.

I changed clothes, clocked out and hung my keys on the hook, and I was out the door. My beautiful Stella gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight. I paused as a flutter of white caught my attention. There was a note in the wipers. Had Ty left another note about stopping by the office?

A part of me hoped so. But was that part hoping to see Ty or hoping to find out more about the body discovery in the mayor's office? I wasn't so sure.

I snatched the note up and read.

We are watching you.

I surveyed the area around me and wondered about who the "we" might be. Seeing no suspicious characters in close proximity, I popped inside the car and shoved the key in the ignition.

Should I call Ty? Or save the note for my meeting with Colin tonight?

After a moment of consideration, I opted for the latter and cranked the car. A couple of blocks later, I pulled into the gravel drive of the Mane Street Styles. Where all the best hair in town is tamed. Or at least that was what their sign claimed. Given the number of hair crises I'd had over the past week, maybe I should have visited here sooner.

I exited the car and tromped up the wooden stairs. They were in need of repair, as was the door that pushed open without the need for a twist of the knob. The sounds of hair dryers, chatter, and pop music on the radio greeted me.

I stood just inside the door and surveyed the scene before me. Three hairdressers tended to their customers in swivel chairs. One teenage girl shampooed a head of hair as she smacked gum in time with her moving fingers. And one woman sat in the waiting area flipping through an issue of
Cute Cutz
.

One of the hairdressers caught sight of me and gave me a "one minute" sign with her finger before she started spraying what would turn out to be at least a half can of hairspray on her customer. The little old lady she was working on had her hair set in a mile-high grouping of curls. Her hair was stark white and her eyes were closed during the onslaught of spray. I wondered how she might be able to breathe under there and worried for her lung health.