The Potluck Club (35 page)

He breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t heard the start of the jeep. He shifted the gearshift into reverse, backed up about a foot, then swung out onto the road. Sheer determination set the expression of his face.

With any luck Donna would be back at the café. With any luck the turning point of his story about the ladies was just at his fingertips, especially since he knew firsthand that Harris was coming back to town.

48

Half-Baked Attempt

As Clay’s jeep was nowhere in sight, I’d decided to treat myself to a slice of Sal’s cheddar cheese pie before the fun and games began. I ate my last bite still warmed from Sal’s microwave and took a swig of what remained of my iced tea. I checked my clipboard. David was due in at DIA at 1300 hours, 1:00 civilian time, arriving on Frontier Flight 381. It took about three hours to get through the airport, the rental car agency, and up I-70 to this part of the high country, so I figured I’d get a call from him as soon as he got settled in the Gold Rush Bed and Breakfast. I checked my watch. As it was approaching 1630 hours, or 4:00 p.m., his call could come at any moment.

To my chagrin, Clay pulled up to the café in his old jeep. The bell above the door announced his arrival. “Good afternoon, Deputy Donna,” Clay said as he walked in. He turned to Sal.

“The usual?” she asked as he nodded his head and sat down next to me at the counter.

“Got any news for me, Donna?”

I wiped my mouth with my napkin and turned to him. “Can’t say that I do.”

He gave me a sly grin. “A lot of intrigue going on around here, I’m told.”

I pulled out my wallet and reached for a ten spot. “Well, then maybe you’re the one who should be telling me what’s new.”

He leaned closer. “I’ve talked to David Harris.”

I felt the color drain from my face. “Oh yeah? What did David have to say?”

“Well, now, that’s actually confidential. However, I hear something is going down this afternoon. Right?”

I stood abruptly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I walked over to the register and gave Sal the ten. She handed me my change, and I walked back to the counter to leave the tip. “So, what are you planning to do, run an exposé on all this nonsense?”

Clay’s eyes shone. “Something like that.”

Without another word, I turned and left the café.
How could
David call Clay? Had he given Clay Vonnie’s name? I’m pretty sure I
hadn’t given David Vonnie’s full name. But for gosh sakes, how many
Vonnies live in Summit View?

My cell rang as I climbed into my Bronco.

“Deputy, it’s David. I’m at the hotel. Go ahead and call Vonnie and let her know she can meet me in room 109; it’s a suite with a little sitting area.”

“Not so fast,” I said, feeling steamed. “I’m coming over to talk to you.”

“Is everything okay?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”

I roared my truck through the heart of town and pulled into the driveway of the bed and breakfast. It was charming, really. A Swiss-alpine-styled Victorian, painted gray with white shutters and trim. Flower boxes filled with plastic red geraniums lined every spectacular leaded glass window. Lilly Deval, the owner and proprietor, had mothered this old mansion to this state of glory, decorating each room in period furniture and vintage-like wallpaper. I whipped into the driveway and found David Harris standing outside, waiting for my arrival.

“What’s wrong, Deputy?” he called to me as I climbed out of the truck.

“That’s just what I want to know.” I walked up to him, standing toe-to-toe. “You’ve been talking to Clay Whitefield?”

He looked sheepish. “Well, he called me as soon as I talked to you yesterday. Said he’d heard I’d found my mother.”

“That dog. He was eavesdropping on our conversation. But the big question is, what did you say to him? Did you give him Vonnie’s name?”

“No! Since you said there’d been trouble, I decided not to tell him anything. But he does know I’m back in town. He saw me when I drove past the newspaper office.”

Holy cow. I looked up and saw Clay drive past in his jeep. He tossed me a merry wave. That man was stalking me, and I had led him right to the site of the reunion.

I pushed David into the shadows. “Okay, change of plans. I cannot allow Vonnie’s nightmare to become public.”

“Nightmare?” David looked crestfallen. “Finding me is a nightmare?”

I looked at him hard then. Here David was, expecting to find someone to love, and he was suddenly faced with the worst possible rejection. On some level, I felt for him. After all, I’d been abandoned by my mother too. I can’t imagine what I’d say to her if she suddenly showed up on my doorstep.

“David, I don’t think it’s you that’s causing her pain. She didn’t even know you existed.”

“Now that just doesn’t make sense. A woman knows if she’s had a baby or not.”

“It would seem so, wouldn’t it? But I’ll let her tell you all about it herself. However, first things first. We’ve got to come up with another plan. That was Clay who just drove by, and something tells me he didn’t come without his camera.”

He squinted against the afternoon sun as he looked down the street. “Clay is here?”

“I’m guessing he’s parked not too far away, waiting to see who shows up. Quick, hop in my Bronco and let’s see if he follows.”

As I grabbed David’s arm, I realized that Wade was standing at the front door of the hotel, his toolbox in his hand. I hadn’t even noticed his truck. Lilly must have sent for him to do some repairs. I acknowledged him. “Hello, Wade.”

Wade looked incensed. “Hello, Deputy. You and your boyfriend checking in?”

“Official business.”

Wade gave me a sarcastic glare. “Oh, I see.”

Ignoring him, David and I hopped into the truck and peeled out of the parking lot. I checked in my rearview mirror. Sure enough, Clay’s jeep pulled out of a parking spot just down the block.

I reached for my cell phone and dialed Vonnie. “Sorry, Von, the meeting’s been called off for tonight. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

49

That girl is always
one step ahead . . .

Clay knew when he’d been licked, even temporarily. He turned his jeep around and headed back toward his apartment. He parked, hurried up the stairs, then closed the door of his place firmly behind him. Woodward and Bernstein came to life, peering up at him with glassy eyes.

“Bad night?” he asked them.

Woodward waggled his whiskers at him.

“Well, you should’ve been with me today,” he continued, throwing his notepad on the nearby desk. He reached for the boys’ pet food, opened the cage, and gave them their nightly treat. “Ever hear the old saying, ‘So close and yet so far away’? Well, that pretty much says it all for me. Donna was one step ahead this time.”

He closed the lid. “But don’t you worry, guys,” he said, brushing the remaining crumbs from his fingertips. “Daddy’s got a Plan B.” He winked. “And it’s a beaut!”

50

Sweet Reunion

I was stunned at Donna’s news that our meeting was off. Goodness, didn’t that girl know what it had taken to ready myself for this moment? To have it delayed sent a shock of emotions throughout my system, but still I managed to ask, “Why?”

“It’s Clay Whitefield. He knows David’s in town, and he’s following us.”

I sat down hard on the kitchen chair, imagining what it would feel like to have my darkest secret on the front page of the
Gold
Rush News
. I felt a chill shudder through me.

“Okay,” I said. “You know best.”

Fred walked down the stairs and stuck his nose in the kitchen. “Everything all right?” he asked.

I shook my head no. I whispered, “Tonight’s meeting is off.”

He stood, waiting for more news as I finished my conversation with Donna. But even as I listened to Donna’s plans, I could not stop looking at this man with whom I had spent most of my life. He’d somehow changed since he had heard about Joseph and the baby. He seemed older, more serious, and a deep sadness had settled over him. At first, he’d asked a few questions, but for the most part he remained silent, simply saying, “This is going to take me a while to process.”

That it was me who caused his pain practically broke my heart. Donna was saying, “Clay won’t be watching the church, he’ll be busy watching David’s hotel. So here’s the plan. David’s going to walk over to Higher Grounds Café for breakfast. We’re sure Clay will come out of hiding and join him. Then when David gets up to go to the restroom, he exits the back door, cuts though the trailer park and into my waiting truck. Then I’ll drive David to an undisclosed location. Clay will never know we made our escape until it’s too late.”

“Okay,” I said, my heart pounding at the thought of the conspiracy.

Donna continued, “Here’s what you’ll do. Go to church as usual, then about fifteen minutes before the end of the service, slip out into the back parking lot, where I’ll be waiting. I’ll take you to David.”

I nodded.

“Vonnie? Will that work for you?”

“Yes, dear.”

When I hung up, I looked back at Fred. “The meeting’s been postponed till tomorrow.”

“How come?”

“I guess Clay Whitefield is standing by with a camera, hoping to find the ‘missing Jewel.’”

Fred looked anguished. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for the whole town to know about this.”

I nodded, studying his drawn complexion. This was even harder on him than I had thought.

That afternoon, I was a nervous wreck. However, I did have the presence of mind to make my grandmother’s molasses cookie recipe for my fifth-grade Sunday school class. It was our Sunday to celebrate the birthdays of the month, and it felt therapeutic to roll balls of cookie dough in sugar, then watch the cookies rise as they baked in my oven. I sighed as I used my metal spatula to scrape the cookies off the pan. How would I ever get through teaching that Sunday school lesson? The story of baby Moses being placed in a basket and set adrift on the Nile, to be found and raised by a princess, was more than ironic. Because when you think about it, that’s just what had happened to my David.

My own baby had been set adrift in a strange state, to be raised by a princess of the entertainment industry. And now, just as in the story of Moses, David was returning to his roots. But how would Hollywood have impacted my sweet baby? I couldn’t help but wonder. Did his princess mother love him the way I would have? Had she taught him right from wrong? Had she told him of God or helped him develop his character?

I shook my head. Harmony Harris’s life had been one of glitter and glamour. To imagine her with a baby, my baby—it was unthinkable.

And now, a question loomed in front of me.

I was no princess but a heartbroken woman who had mourned the loss of her first husband and baby son for thirty-seven years. I would appear before my child with wrinkles, baggage and all.

I took a deep breath. What would David think of me? How could I ever compete against a princess?

Later that night when Fred was already in bed, staring at the ceiling, I pulled out a pair of socks and slipped them on my feet so my toes wouldn’t freeze during the night. As I sat on the chair by the bed, I asked, “Are you ready to meet David?”

He shook his head. “You meet him first. This should be a time just for the two of you.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s take separate cars to church. I’ll leave from church to go to the meeting.”

The kids at Sunday school were great as usual, though I teared up a time or two when I talked about baby Moses and the princess.

Afterward, I met up with Fred in the hallway and asked if we could sit near the back of the sanctuary during the worship service. “I’ll have to slip out early,” I explained. He nodded without really looking at me.

The choir opened the service with that dear old hymn, number 595.

The words seemed to lift off the page.

This is my Father’s world,
O let me ne’re forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the Ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world;
The battle is not done;
Jesus who died shall be satisfied,
And earth and heav’n be one.