Twilight's Encore (5 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Jared worked all afternoon with Larry to repair the torn ceiling and apply a new medallion in preparation for the chandelier Ty was on the hunt to replace. He’d contacted all the antique dealers he knew to try and locate a light close to the one destroyed.

From their position high up on the scaffolding they could see fresh cuts on the tarnished medal. Someone had deliberately weakened the integrity of the chandelier. Whoever had done this knew what they were doing. They’d staged it so the weight of the heavy fixture would slowly add pressure to the center pedestal until it couldn’t bare the load anymore and broke.

“This don’t look so good.” Larry huffed, his hardhat covered head tilted at an awkward angle to better examine the damage. “Don’t get me wrong, I like my job, but I never hired on to get myself killed.”

“Take it easy, no one’s going to die. Ty’s brother will check things out. It’s probably just some teenagers with time on their hands.” Privately, Jared decided to see about setting up some video surveillance. So far the infractions were minor, but he wasn’t anxious to get hurt on the job either.

They finished attaching the intricately carved medallion, then Jared waved Larry down first while he surveyed the room. Though old, the theatre held a charm from bygone eras hard to match in modern architecture. From his position in the concave dome, he could see across to the nearby second floor balcony. Grecian urns with chipped paint sat on raised pedestals flanking the handrails overlooking the main gallery. Three rows of torn red velvet seats stared back at him. The room’s spooky atmosphere gave him the heebie-jeebies, redolent of past occupants laughing and gossiping together while waiting for the evening’s entertainment to begin.

He had just turned to begin his journey down to the ground when a shadow of movement froze him in his tracks. The hair on the back of his neck lifted as though a static charge fueled the air. Jared shivered. His buddy, Frank, was the one with the supposed sixth sense, not him. He leaned over the railing and squinted into the gloom. “Who’s there?”

Nothing stirred, not even a…
ghost.

This place was getting to him. He’d never thought himself superstitious, but after his own accident—he rubbed a gloved hand over his stitches—and the stories his workmates kept blabbing on about he was rethinking his position. Between this incident and the shit with Annie… their always-complicated relationship had taken a turn for the worse since he’d found out she’d given birth to their son eight years earlier but forgot to send him the memo. And now someone had broke into her store—while she was in the building. He was losing sleep, which turned him into a larger asshole than normal, as Ty would say.

A sudden vibration shook the scaffolding.

Jared’s hands white-knuckled the railing. His pulse jumped through the nearby roof.
What the
… he looked down over the edge into the laughing gaze of Larry, the moron. “Do you have a death wish, you fucking idiot?”

“Thought you could use a little shaking up.” He laughed. “You should’ve seen your face… priceless.”

“Yeah, well, when I get down from here
your
face is going to need MasterCard to restructure it, Ty or no Ty.” Jared growled.

His gaze slid to the now specter-free gallery before his booted foot dropped to the first step. “Hold this thing still.”

Normally he had no problem with heights. Shit, he’d performed his share of HAHO jumps without breaking a sweat, but lately… he shook his head and concentrated on making it safely to the ground.

Revenge would be sweet.

~~~*~~~

That was close.

Ramsey dropped the gun from its resting position on the back of the seat, and flopped onto his ass. His heart pounded like a freight train. His hands were clammy from the adrenaline rush.

Shit, this was fun.

The boss had warned him no injuries; it was all supposed to be made to look as if the building needed to be condemned.

“
Stop the renovations
.
Nothing else
.”

But, hey, it wasn’t his fault if a body or two happened to get hurt along the way. Stuff happens; sometimes it’s the price of doing a job right. He grinned.

A quick glance over the chair showed a now empty scaffold. He’d better hurry up and finish before someone decided to come take a look-see. He half crawled, half crouched his way to the second last urn on the right. His hand dipped into his coat pocket and came out with a small black box. He turned it over, flipped the switch, set it inside the urn, and then made his way to the hidden hatch at the back of the room. He’d lucked out and found the door on one of his nighttime forays. It could have been a fire escape or a route for delivering liquor during the days of prohibition. Now it worked to conceal his movements.

The stairs, enclosed within the walls, were a serpentine route that led from the front to the back of the building. An underground tunnel deposited him into a root cellar about fifty feet from the back door. Perfect.

Upon entering the eight by ten room his nose pinched shut in reaction to the musty scent reminiscent of a cross between moldy potatoes and moth balls. It reminded him of his Ukrainian grandparent’s farm. He’d hated that place. Hurrying across the dank cellar, sweeping away the cobwebs, he cracked the creaky wooden door open, wincing at the noise. Hard to say how long since this old building had seen any use. It was well hidden behind a thickly leaved bush, the room itself built into the side of a knoll.

He examined the surrounding area. No movement, unless you count the scrawny momma cat by the garbage bin, no doubt searching for her lost kitten.
Sorry, Mom, this is one time the cat won’t come back.

He carefully stepped out and closed the door, locking it with the rusty but sturdy lock he’d found at the secondhand store. Then he strolled away whistling. Must be lunchtime.

~~~*~~~

Katy pulled up in front of Grits and Grace and smiled at Rebecca who was waving like a lunatic from her seat at the window. She regretting not staying in touch with her old friends since moving to California. First school, then her job, and before she knew it the years had flown by. It would have served Katy right if they’d shut her out upon her return. Instead, as soon as they heard she was in town, and where she was staying, they’d gotten in touch. She hoped by inviting Rebecca and Annie to be in her wedding party she could somehow make up for her negligence.

Katy stepped from her car and gazed on the busy downtown core. Funny how she’d taken the town for granted growing up. From the family owned drug store on the corner, to the pretty flower shop, and Grace’s diner; all businesses she’d been in and out of dozens of times as a child.

The sparkle of the fountain in the center of Main Street’s roundabout caught her eye. She remembered when her father was on town council and lobbied for the installation of the water feature. He’d wanted to divert traffic from speeding down the road and hopefully bring more economy to the dying business district with some much needed beautification. Going by the crowd of pedestrians she saw now, he’d succeeded.

As usual, thoughts of her father left Katy conflicted. On the one hand her dad was everything a girl could ask for in a father, kind, loving, and patient—a stark contrast to their unapproachable mother. But, then there was the man, Kenneth Fowler. Him, she hadn’t liked so much.

When she was sixteen Katy had overheard her brother, Kyle, arguing with their father about a planned business trip. That was the day the blinders came off. Her
kind
,
sweet
dad, was having an affair. And not for the first time apparently. Angry and embarrassed, Katy’s respect all but disappeared for her father. It was only years later, that she came to understand what had driven her dad to cheat.

This wedding was a second chance for all of them to forgive, if not forget, the angry words of the past.

Returning Rebecca’s wave, she locked her car and strode toward the front doors of the café. As she slipped through the sparkling glass door held open by a smiling senior, Katy inhaled the rich, dark roast aroma of freshly brewed coffee and beef barley soup. A restaurant full of gossiping customers muted the crooning of Frank Sinatra from the old jukebox in the corner. California was great, but it wasn’t home. She’d missed the friendly accord of neighbors laughing and talking between tables as if they were at a social gathering.

Rebecca stood as she neared the table, the overhead fluorescents glinting off her raven black mane of hair. Her periwinkle blue eyes crinkled at the edges as her lips lifted in a mile-wide smile of greeting. “There she is, the beautiful bride to be.”

Conscious of the sudden spark of interest from nearby tables, Katy hurried the last few steps into her friend’s warm embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her throat tight with unshed tears.

“Not half as much,” Rebecca replied, then kissed her cheek before leaning back to get a better look. “California agrees with you.”

Katy glanced down at her buttery yellow t-shirt, distressed jeans, and open-toe sandals showing off bright pink nails. Her hair slipped over her shoulder, brushing her cheek. She swept it back and grinned, shrugging. “At least it’s not surfer shorts.”

Rebecca giggled and returned to her seat. She lifted her cup in a toast. “To west coast sunshine, wherever we live.” She took a sip from her steaming mug and pointed to its twin sitting on the Formica tabletop. “I seem to remember you being a fan of Grace’s coffee, right?”

The aroma drew a sigh of pleasure from Katy’s rose tinted lips. “Oh perfect, I’ve been looking forward to this.” She slid into the booth. The red leather, warm from the sun, felt good against her back. The coffee was hot and delicious, just as she remembered.

Fortified, she gazed around the café, noting the little changes since her last visit. A new glass pie counter showed off Grace’s well-known talent as a pastry chef. The black and white tiles on the floor were the same, maybe with a few more scuffmarks. The dark green walls now carried a variety of landscape paintings. There was one Katy particularly liked of the theatre with the initials S.R. written in the corner. Wonder if a local artist had done it? She’d have to ask Grace if they were for sale. It would look great on her bedroom wall back home. That is if they kept the condo after her and Jeff were married.

“It looks just the same,” she sighed and sat back, cradling her cup. “I’m glad you were able to meet me. I’ve missed you, Becky.”

Rebecca’s smile turned shaky. She reached across and squeezed Katy’s outstretched hand. “Me, too. I can’t believe it’s been so long.” She turned Katy’s hand over and admired the sparkling rock on her third finger. “Wow, you should have a bodyguard for that thing.”

Katy pulled back with a self-conscious laugh and tucked her hand under her leg. “Jeff doesn’t like to do anything small.”

She glanced up and let out a little yelp of joy. “Susan, you’re still here.” Jumping out of the booth she gave the older woman a warm hug, inhaling hairspray and cigarette smoke mixed with a flowery perfume. The beehive hairdo scratched her cheek, or maybe that was the pen shoved behind an ear decorated with clip-on Shamrock earrings.

“Course, I am. What else would I be doing?” Susan’s raspy voice grumbled as her boney fingers rubbed up and down Katy’s back. “It’s about damn time you came home. That boy of yours missed you awful. We all did.”

The heat climbed Katy’s cheeks. That
boy’s
mouth had driven her crazy last night.

And his words had wrenched her heart.

She swallowed around the golf ball lodged in her throat and kissed the woman’s papery cheek. “I’m sorry, Susan. I should have kept in touch. Mom sends her love.”

“How is your mother? Still ruling her kingdom?” Susan tipped her head, but her beehive defied gravity and stayed upright.

Katy slid back into the booth and took another sip of the cooling coffee. “You know Mom, she’s not happy unless she’s making some poor schmuck miserable. I don’t think she’ll ever leave that hospital.”

Susan barked out a laugh that turned into a coughing jag and waved away Katy’s concern. “Well, it’ll be good to see her next month.” She glanced over the booth and a sly gleam came into her eyes. “That is if the wedding is still a go?”

Just then a big, hard body slipped into the seat beside her, almost landing in her lap. “Yeah, Katy, that’s the million dollar question of the day. Is it still a go? Are you marrying your lover boy?” Ty curled his arm over the back of the booth, practically encapsulating them into their own little cocoon.

She was faintly aware of the heavy-set man Ty had arrived with sitting with Rebecca and her prickly demeanor, but the man at her side took most of Katy’s attention. His woodsy scent and the warmth of his thigh touching her leg surrounded her. The mischief gleaming out of those cerulean blue eyes reminded her of the old Ty. The one who stole her heart. And then let her walk away.

She moved closer to the window, ignoring his enveloping presence. Holding out her hand—yes, the one with the boulder on it—Katy smiled at the newcomer. “Hi, I’m Katy Fowler.”

The stranger grinned and clasped her hand in a beefy mitt, leaning over to bestow a kiss upon her ring. “You don’t remember me? I used to chase you out of your brother’s room whenever we were doing homework together.”