The Black Sheep and the Princess (12 page)

“Commendable, Ms. Sutherland.”

“Kate,” she reminded him, then took another sip. “I'm not trying to be commendable, Mr. Harris—”

“Stan,” he offered perfunctorily.

“Stan,” she repeated. “I've been working in that field since graduating, and when my mother passed on and left the property to us, I thought it was the perfect use for it.”

Stan's gaze dropped to her hand cradling the mug, then quickly back to her face. “Us?” he repeated. “So, you're operating this place with your husband?”

Kate tried not to look insulted. So. Married made a difference. Married meant there was a man involved, which meant maybe this was actually a serious business proposition and not some silly dream operation run by a brainless, no-head-for-business woman. Somehow she managed to keep that opinion to herself. “No,” she answered directly. “Just as my mother did before me, I'll be running the place myself.” She wasn't sure the reminder would make so much as a dent in the thought process of someone who'd probably been narrow-minded since birth, but it couldn't hurt to try. She didn't linger on it, however, as he'd given her the perfect opening to probe a little, and she'd be damned if she'd pass it up. “By ‘us' I meant my stepbrother, Shelby. Have you two met?”

She lifted her coffee mug, her eyes trained steadily on his face over the rim as she took a slow sip. She'd caught him off guard with that last part. His attention made a telling dip, just for a moment, but long enough to signal that he wasn't being completely honest. “Can't say as I recall. So is he a silent partner in your little endeavor, or…?”

“No. We're just finishing up the details of the will, is all. And he had a hand in running it with my mother when he was younger, so his advice has been invaluable to me.” She kept her tone light, but never took her eyes off of him. Nope. Something definitely wasn't right here. Stan wasn't meeting her gaze as easily now. “You know how probates can go,” she said dismissively, as casually as possible. “Anyway, we're close to breaking ground on some very extensive renovation work, and so I thought it was a good time to talk to you about getting the word out about my camp. I am definitely planning on involving as many of the local businesses as I can, both in skilled labor as well as printing shops, media outlets, the newspaper, that sort of thing.”

“Miss Sutherland—Kate—I'm afraid I'm not a placement office. You're more than welcome to post whatever notices you'd like on our community service board. And I'm sure Jim at the
Sentinel
would be happy to talk to you about taking out a more detailed paid ad, which might reach those who don't come into town as often. We might be a bit backwoods here, unlike the city life you're more accustomed to, but I assure you word travels quite fast. I'm certain you won't have any problem alerting the community to your needs.”

Kate noted a couple of things in his little speech that got her attention. One, for a man who purportedly didn't know much about her, he knew she was from New York City. And she also noted he didn't say she wouldn't have a problem hiring people, just that they'd get the word about her intentions. Interesting.

She was sorely tempted to just come out and ask him what was going on, what he had against her and her camp. Or just straight out ask him what he might know about Timberline, for that matter, see what kind of reaction that got. But her mind was spinning a little too fast to sort everything out on the spur, and she didn't want to make a wrong move and tip him off to what she was thinking. Not until she'd had a chance to think it through, anyway. She hated that her first thought had actually been not until she had a chance to talk it over with Donovan.

One day and she was already coming to depend on him. And at a time when she really couldn't afford to depend on anyone but herself.

Apparently taking her silence to mean he'd regained the upper hand, Stan tried his used car salesman smile again. “As far as promoting the camp itself, don't take offense, but I don't know how much help Ralston can be for you. We don't have too many crippled kids around that I know of.”

Kate ground her teeth to keep her smile even. “Challenged,” she mildly corrected. “And I know Ralston isn't big in size, but I always thought small towns were big in heart.” He wasn't the only one with a snakeoil pitch. “Ralston does serve the needs of a large county, many of whom do drive in a distance to do business here. I wasn't thinking to have any big campaign or anything. I was merely hoping to maybe use your network of small businesses here to get the word out. Word of mouth is oftentimes the best method of promotion in a case like this. You never know who knows somebody with a child who might be in need of the kind of services I'll be providing.”

Stan listened to her spiel with dwindling interest. “As I said, you can feel free to post anything you'd like on the community service board in the office. Anyone who has an interest will be sure to contact you.” He smiled and tried to look abashed. “I know it doesn't sound like much, and probably not what you're used to, given your background, Ms. Sutherland, but we are a small town, and it suits our needs.” He signaled for the check. “I wish I could do more to help.”

Kate barely kept her temper in check. Ignorant, smarmy ass. He not only knew exactly who she was and what she hoped to do, but he was going to do absolutely nothing to help her. She wouldn't be half surprised if he actively planned to campaign against her. Not that she had a shred of proof, it was just instinct. Hers or Donovan's at this point, she wasn't sure and didn't much care. She needed to get out of the diner before she said something she would regret later. She had to think of her camp first, last, and foremost.

She felt the beginnings of a tension headache spring to life. She slid out of the booth as Stan did the same. “Thank you for the coffee and your time.”

His unctuous smile reappeared as he held out his hand. “My pleasure, Ms.—Kate.” He gave her hand a quick shake, once again the friendly town councilman. “You stop by the office anytime and post whatever flyer or postcard you want to put up.”

“Appreciated,” she said, and somehow found a smile. She wondered if Stan thought she was some rich bitch socialite, dabbling in her little charitable endeavor. Her mother had not been the most compassionate person, and she'd probably made one or two enemies in the small town. Louisa Sutherland, to put it bluntly, was a snob. And so were her clients. Whenever possible, she'd avoided using the town's admittedly limited resources. Only the best would do. And the best was certainly not going to be found in Ralston.

But something told her this had to do with more than the possibility of her mother's lingering reputation. The camp had been closed down for almost a decade, and she'd abdicated a lion's share of the day-to-day management long before that. And while the town might not have fully prospered from the camp, it hadn't been hurt any by it either. And here she was, wanting to help their economy yet again, and it was all the chamber of commerce head could do to give her five seconds of his time. Business was business. Money talked louder than old reputations.

It just didn't add up.

“What do you know of Timberline Industries?” she blurted out, immediately kicking herself for her momentary lapse. But, dammit, she wanted to shake him up a little, let him know he wasn't dealing with some brainless twit.

His gaze narrowed for a fraction of a second, and Kate suddenly wondered if she'd just done something a bit more brainless than she'd intended. But it was too late now.

“Not sure I recognize the name,” he said, recovering so smoothly it was as if his momentary lapse in keeping his guard up hadn't even happened. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason, really. Shelby had made some comment about them—” She stopped, smiled apologetically, and waved off the rest of the sentence. “Never mind.”

“Fine, then. I must be getting back.” He paused beside the table as she slid out and stepped past him. “And, uh, my condolences on the passing of your mother.”

Stan couldn't usher her out of Deenie's fast enough. Kate wasn't sure how awkward it was going to be when they reached the sidewalk and he realized they were headed in the same direction, as she had to pass back by the chamber office on her way back to her truck. “Thank you,” she told him as he opened the door for her. Mercifully, someone back in the diner called him over to their table.

“Sorry,” he said, his smile not remotely sincere at this point.

“Not a problem. Thank you for your time.”

“A pleasure, Ms. Sutherland.” Which it clearly hadn't been. For either of them.

The door closed behind her, and Kate stepped onto the sidewalk and let out a long sigh. “Well, that went just peachy,” she muttered.

“Didn't look like it.” Donovan pushed away from the bus stop sign he was leaning against and fell into step beside her.

“I
thought we were meeting back at the truck.”

He thought she seemed a little flustered. “I was headed that way and saw you through the window. Thought I'd wait.”

She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and tugged him gently, but firmly down the block.

“What's going on?” Mac asked, letting her tug him along.

“I don't know,” she said. “That's the problem. But until I do, if you're going to help me, maybe it's better that the whole town doesn't see me with you. In fact—” She dropped his arm and stopped. “Why don't you go around the block that way and I'll—”

“Graffiti all over your camp doesn't faze you, but a cup of coffee with Stan Harris and you're spooked. What happened in there?”

“Do you know Stan? Why didn't you tell me that? What can you tell me about him?” She started walking again.

Mac had to step fast to catch up to her. “So Stan did spook you. What the hell did he say?”

She reached the truck and all but flung herself into the driver's seat. “Hurry up before anyone else comes along. I should have thought this through better.”

“Which part?” he asked, climbing in the passenger side, barely closing the door before she was already backing out of the space. “The part where you storm into town or the part where you storm back out of it?”

“Very funny. Did you want to help me or not?”

She wasn't looking at him; she was negotiating her way through the only intersection they had to cover and bootlegging it out of town.

“You might want to be careful there, Leadfoot. I know Sheriff Gilby is on the far side of retirement, but I'm guessing that's just made him more ornery. He loves nothing more than a good speed trap.”

“What do you know about Stan? And you know Gilby?” She slowed momentarily and shot him a wary look of suspicion that he definitely didn't like.

“I don't think I like what you're implying. In fact, I know damn well I don't.”

“Just answer me. You knew I was coming into town to see Stan, yet you didn't say anything about knowing him.”

“I don't know him. Not personally. But I know his family. And I just told you, Gilby has been on the force here since I was a teenager. I can assure you, I sincerely wish he didn't happen to be sheriff, as it would probably be easier to get the information we need from someone who hadn't personally arrested me for being drunk in public when I was seventeen. But he was just a beat cop in those days. I doubt he remembers me.”

Kate fell silent and kept her gaze on the road. He wasn't sure where her thoughts were, but they didn't seem to be on him any longer. It wasn't much of a bonus.

He let her have a minute, then calmly asked, “What did Stan say?”

“It's more what he didn't say.” She paused a moment, then asked, “What do you know about his family? He's probably a good twenty years older than we are, so—”

“So, I know his dad was vice president at the bank when I left. Wouldn't be surprised if he was president now.”

“Wouldn't he be retired? He'd have to be well into his seventies.”

Mac shook his head. “Jim Harris is just the type to work until he drops dead rather than let anyone else take over. The only reason I know anything about Stan is I remember there being a bit of a to-do when he came back to town.”

“Came back? From where?”

“Stan went to college, which was rare enough from this place, then stayed in the city for a while. But he came back with big plans of running for the county seat, and using that as a springboard to a state political office. His daddy couldn't have been prouder and let everyone know it.”

“And?”

Mac shrugged. “I don't know. I'm guessing given the position he currently holds, that that was as far as he made it. You'd think he'd have gotten the hell back out by now.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I passed by his office on the way to Deenie's. Not exactly burning up the place with his fancy degree, is he?”

“So that's the only measure of success? Having a degree and using it in some ostentatious way?”

“You know better than that.”

“I thought I did.”

He didn't like that she was so quick to judge him harshly. “Given my background, I'd hardly be a snob about degrees and such.”

“Did you go to college?”

“No. I bounced around the city for a bit, doing odd jobs, mostly working as a mechanic. Ended up at the police academy.”

“How did that happen?”

Mac shifted in his seat. He'd never been comfortable talking about himself, and now was definitely no different. “I grew up with a lot of injustice, and I guess I decided I could make a bigger difference in the world than just turning wrenches like my old man. And I wasn't dismissing Stan for being what he is. It just seemed a waste, given his education and his aspirations. I'd think you'd understand. You're using yours, after all.”

She cut him a sharp glance. “What do you know about my degree?”

He smiled unapologetically. “Everything I could dig up on-line in the twenty minutes I had.”

“On-line? Where can you get on-line in Ralston?”

“Library.” He didn't bother to tell her he could access the Internet from his sat phone, too. He glanced at the road. They were headed out of town, but in the opposite direction. “Where are we going?”

“The mall.”

“Mall?” he said, mentally adjusting his plans. He should have asked her what her plans were sooner. “How far a hike is that going to be?”

“About ten minutes. They built one out by the interstate exit a few years ago. Bagel needs some food, and they have a pet store there.” She glanced at him again. “You could pick up a few things if you need to.”

He looked down at himself. “What, my sartorial choices not meeting with your social standards?”

She didn't take offense to his teasing, which he took as a positive sign. She'd calmed down and gotten herself back on track quickly, which was good to note. Not that it had been an entirely bad thing to see her so disturbed back there. It was past time that she took things a bit more seriously. And if he couldn't shake her up, then he was just glad someone had.

“I really don't have time for a shopping spree,” he said. “We didn't talk to Gilby yet, and—”

“Gilby will have to wait.” She kept driving, but looked at him and shook her head a little. He even caught a hint of a smile, which relieved him a little. And that wasn't entirely a good thing. He needed to take the situation seriously, too. They couldn't both afford to be distracted.

Then she swallowed something that sounded like a snicker. It wasn't a sound he'd have associated with the Kate he thought he knew. It sounded good on the Kate she actually was.

Yeah, he was definitely getting distracted. Thirty minutes apart hadn't been near enough time for him to get his bearings back. “What's wrong with what I have on?”

“Nothing, really. I just never figured you for a Taz type.”

He glanced down at the cartoon character stitched above the pocket of his black T-shirt. “Taz and I have a lot in common. I refuse to take full responsibility, though. The little general store I stopped in on my way up was rather limited in their selection of menswear.”

“You stopped on your way up here to go clothes shopping?”

“Well, it was that or live in the same jeans and T-shirt for who knows how long. And trust me, the ones I had on when I left were not something I could wear for any length of time.”

Her smile faded. “What happened to your luggage?”

“Nothing. I didn't happen to have any on me when Rafe dumped me curbside at JFK.”

“JFK?”

“We were in the city on a job. Rafe needed the vehicle we had, so I had to get another car to get up here. JFK has rentals. Plus, when I bring it back, I can just hop a flight home.”

“So…coming here really was Rafe's idea?”

“Let's just say he didn't give me any time to talk myself back out of it.”

She stared at the road again, letting the silence grow, then abruptly said, “What else do you know about Stan? Do you really think his father runs the bank now?”

Back to business
. He knew he'd be wise to follow her lead. “Tell me what went on this morning. For that matter, now's a good time for you to give me a rundown of the whole story.”

“You know pretty much everything. You probably know more than I do, for that matter. You've been cruising the Internet, and, I imagine, talking to your cohorts back in Virginia. Why don't you tell me what you already know?”

He smiled, liking how she always met him head-on. “You know, if we ever expand the business, take on more cohorts, you'd probably fit right in.”

“I'll keep it in mind,” she said dryly. “So what dirt did you dig up on me?”

“Just that your mother apparently stunned everyone by leaving you, the estranged daughter, everything, while favored son Shelby just got the camp property.”

“Nothing new there. Go on.”

“What caused the estrangement? You said before you hadn't talked to her since leaving for college.”

“She wanted Shelby and me to jump to her bidding, and only one of us was willing to play that game. Shelby's always had his eye on the prize, that being the Sutherland-Graham fortune. He was more than willing to sell his soul for it. When I turned eighteen, I wanted to lead my life on my own terms. That didn't sit too well with her, so she cut me off.”

Mac hadn't had a lot of time and had barely skimmed the surface of information on Louisa and her dysfunctional family. Kate had briefly mentioned the estrangement earlier, but he didn't know about the financial reversal. “That must have been tough on you.”

“I was heading off to college at the time. My mother had certain ideas about where I would go and what I would study. I had other ideas. But I had a few partial scholarship offers, so I chose a small in-state school and worked off the rest of my tuition. It wasn't easy, but it was very likely the best thing that ever happened to me. I became fully independent, it got Shelby off my back, and my mother finally had nothing left to hold over me.” She glanced at him, then right back to the road. “Even rich families aren't necessarily happy ones.”

Thinking of his partner, Finn, Mac already knew that to be true. “Money doesn't buy everything, no, but it would have gone a long way toward getting your camp up and running. So, tell me more about this deal you and Shelby struck with the trade. Just how much of a cash settlement did you work out? Seems like no matter how you look at it, Shelby is coming out a giant winner here. If you were willing to settle for so little, what was there to hammer out? I'm surprised he didn't sign the deed over to you that day and write you a check.”

“It wasn't just the amount on the bottom net worth line. It was about what was right. And, to Shelby, what was right was inheriting the Sutherland-Graham fortune, lock, stock, and barrel.”

“So, what, he's doing you a favor by letting you have the campground and a little spending money?”

“You…well, you knew Shelby, at least somewhat, back then. He was around camp all the time in the summer, watching over Louisa's interests.”

Mac remembered Shelby as being a rat-faced little weasel who'd go running to Louisa the moment he thought he knew something that could get someone else in trouble.

“Nothing much has changed. He felt that since I had abdicated my position in the family, it was, by default, all his. And, to some degree, I can understand his viewpoint. He might not have wanted the camp per se, or even given a thought to the property itself in years; it was the point of the thing. It was his father's, and now it was his, and I wanted it.”

“And you had Louisa's entire empire, which he wanted. Come on.”

“And he could have kept me and the will in probate for the rest of my natural life, too, and would have, over something essentially that stupid. But that's Shelby, and also something I couldn't afford. But I know how to handle Shelby, and that's to make him think he's getting the better of me, while making him think it's also his idea to be the benevolent dictator. He learned well at my mother's knee, but so did I.”

“And?”

“And so we spent an inordinate amount of time hammering out all the details, but far less time than we would have otherwise. We recently came to a final agreement, which is that I get the campground, as well as a few of the stocks, specifically ones that had been in my mother's name prior to her marriage to George Sutherland, when she'd been married to my biological father. That was enough, or will be, to secure a loan from the bank to finance the rehab and reconstruction of the property and get the camp started. It's more than I'd hoped for when I contacted them again to look into leasing the property in the first place. And it's all I feel comfortable taking, to be perfectly honest with you.”