The Bride Takes a Powder (4 page)

Except read a book and drink a cup
of coffee.

She bought several books with
interesting sounding blurbs, a large coffee, and then strolled across the
street to the park at Courthouse Square. Benches lined the walkways, not too
close together, making it easy to talk to people but also allowing privacy. A
maintenance worker was in the process of drying off the benches with rags so
not a spot of rain water remained. She quickly appropriated a seat and watched
the surprising number of passersby on their way to lunch or out for a walk to
enjoy the respite from the rain. Sipping her coffee, she wondered if she looked
as silly as she felt—smiling at nothing as she was. Sunlight peeking through
the tree limbs warmed her face. Bird songs and chattering, rushing squirrels
charmed her. She realized she'd left her cell phone in her apartment but didn't
miss it one bit. The last thing she wanted was to hear that ringtone and see
Garrett's texts. Her parents knew she was okay, and they were the only ones who
mattered.

Women passing by wore slacks, even
shorts and sandals or athletic shoes. She didn't want to be noticed as an
outsider dressed in designer jeans and heels. Garrett and his brother had been
on TV news. Her name had probably not been mentioned so no one here would know
who she was. Still, she was dressed for the big city, and that didn't seem
appropriate here in Birchwood Falls.

Relaxed and half asleep, she began
to feel the stirrings of hunger. Depositing the coffee cup into the waste
bin—Lord, even those were cute, painted to look like wild animals—she headed
across the park toward the grocery store. Today she had a better idea of her
living arrangements and what she'd need day to day.

Roaming the produce aisle, she
spotted a gorgeous woman with hair pulled up in a ponytail, a fuchsia streak in
her dark bangs, and a good-sized pregnant belly. The woman hummed as she
inspected the tomatoes, then she turned to cantaloupes and early strawberries.

They both reached for a container
of the fruit at the same time and bumped hands. "Sorry." Norah pulled
her hand back.

The woman turned to her. "Hi."

That was it. Just a hi but spoken
with a luminous smile. Norah couldn't stop an answering smile and murmured, "Hi."
She was usually in a hurry in the grocery store and didn't pay attention to
other people.

The woman plucked a box of
strawberries off the display and handed them to Norah. "These look good.
What are you going to have with them?"

"Um, I hadn't thought about
that. What do you do with them?"

The woman gave her a
cat-eating-the-canary smile. "We dip them in a little sour cream or melted
chocolate."

"Sounds wonderful."

"My husband likes them too."
And rubbing her tummy, the woman added, "But my baby likes them better."

"Congratulations. When are you
due?" The woman was so pretty with her dark hair and hazel eyes.

Still smiling, she replied, "I
still have three months to go. I don't recognize you. Are you new to B Falls?"

"Yes, I'm just visiting."

"Visiting someone?"

"No um, I'm really just
passing through. I don't know how long I'll stay." Norah pretended
interest in the blueberries.

"Welcome, then." She
offered her hand. "I'm Phoebe Barnes Rahn."

"Hi Phoebe. I'm Norah Ballard."

"Where are you from?"

"Chicago. I arrived on the
train yesterday."

"What part of Chicago? I
worked there for a few months in the River North area."

"I work downtown and live
along the lakefront."

"Nice." Phoebe nodded. "I
lived there in the winter so didn't get to see it in the summer."

"What brought you here?"

Phoebe laughed, a light tinkling
sound. "It's a long story, but the basics are that my husband and I met
here, he's from B Falls, and he lured me back. I'm really happy I made the move
though. It was the furthest thing from my life plans. So you never know."

"No, you don't." Damn
truer words were never spoken.

"Say, if you're looking for
some entertainment and if you're still in town, why don't you come over to
Marietty's tomorrow night. It's a jazz club at the resort. The Wilcox Resort.
My husband owns the club and I sing."

"You sing? Is that what you
were doing in Chicago?"

"Yeah, I'm a jazz and blues
singer."

"And you have your own club?
Your husband's club?"

Phoebe nodded again, beaming an
even bigger smile. "As I said, it's a long story, but it all worked out
for us. The last thing I wanted was to live in this little burg. I wanted to be
singing in New York or Hollywood."

"And now?"

"This is the place to be,"
Phoebe announced.

Norah chuckled. "As long as
you're sure."

"So, come over to Marietty's
about eight. Are you staying at the resort?"

"No. The McMillan House."

"Okay, then go right down
First Street, cross over to the resort and the club is this side of the river.
I'll have my friends save you a seat."

"That's really nice of you."
Norah smiled her thanks.

"Just ask for Mike Banning."

"Did you say Banning? Mike
Banning?"

"Yes. And if you happened to
see that article in the paper this morning, he had nothing to do with the
cheating at school."

"Really?"

"Yup. He's my husband's best
friend from all the way back in high school. If Marc believes in him, I do too."
She nodded her head emphatically. "I don't know what's going on in that
school, but Mike isn't a part of it."

"Is your husband a teacher
there too?"

"He's a police officer now."

"A law officer and a nightclub
owner? That's an odd combination."

Chuckling, Phoebe said, "Not
in this town."

"Okay. Thanks for the welcome.
I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night." Norah waved and moved
on to the dairy aisle to look for sour cream. Back in her apartment and after
putting the groceries away, she sampled the strawberries and sour cream.
Delish. Then grabbing one of the paperbacks she'd bought, she sauntered down
the stairs to the sheltering porch. She settled on the swing softened by
cushions and leaned back into the myriad colorful throw pillows. Curling a leg
beneath her, she pushed off with her other foot, and rocked. The rhythmic
creaking of iron chains and pattering of rain on the roof melted away the
tension of the past days, and her eyes closed.
Just rest them a minute…

***

Her eyes popped open at the
ear-piercing blast of a semi's air horn. Blinking to clear her vision and
glancing at her watch, she realized she'd slept for forty-five minutes. The low
hum from passing cars on the highway had lulled her to sleep until that one
loud honk.
Good Lord! What a slug.
Pushing to her feet, she ambled to the edge of the porch, and braced both hands
on the smooth white wooden railing. Her eyes closed as she sniffed fresh clean
country air and the delicate sweet scents of early spring flowers. A gigantic
bush of yellow blooms sat in a sunny corner of the yard near the front sidewalk.
White flowers shaped like bells drooping from arching stems flowed along the
base of the porch. She'd ask Jan the names of the flowers.

Her gaze lifted to the back of
Ollie's bar which she could see easily from her vantage point. It was after
three, and school would likely be out. She wondered what was going on with Mike
Banning. The mood at school would be pretty tense now that the news of the
cheating scandal was out.

Her instinct about the man was that
he wasn't a cheater. She could agree with Phoebe on that. He seemed like a
great guy—nice, protective, and polite.

This
scandal is none of your business.
And that was what crossed her mind even
as she pushed through Ollie's front door. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she
spotted him sitting in the back next to the juke box. His arms rested on the
table, his gaze focusing on his hands, folded as if in prayer.

"May I sit down?"

His eyes lifted first, then his
head, and he frowned in confusion for a moment.

"I was here last night? That
big lummox was bothering me?" she reminded, trying to make him smile.

"Sure, I know who you are. I
was just surprised to see you again."

"May I?" She gestured to
a chair.

"Of course." He stood up,
still not smiling. "Would you like something to drink?"

She shook her head. "No, but
go ahead if you want."

Going behind the bar, he drew a
half stein of beer and brought it back to the table.

"I'm sorry I was rude last
night. You were only being polite and protecting me from that guy."

One dark eyebrow lifted. "Axel
Davis. He is a lummox, that's for sure." Changing the subject, he said, "We
went to the same school, didn't we?"

"Yes, I know. I didn't
recognize you at first until you said your name." She brushed back strands
of hair tickling her forehead.
Damned
humidity.
"You've changed."

He finally laughed. "That's a
mild way of putting it. I looked pretty nerdy back in those days."

"I won't comment on that."
She tried to suppress a giggle. What was she doing? She wasn't the giggling
type.

"You, on the other hand, haven't
changed a bit," he remarked. "Except you're even prettier."

"Stop it." She waved away
the compliment but couldn't hold back a grin.

"Didn't you go to law school?"
He took a sip of beer.

"Yes. I've been practicing now
for a few years."

"What brings you here?"

"I'm not sure what my plans
are," she said repressively. "I came on the train. It was a spur of
the moment decision." Confused, bitter, and at odds with her life, she
certainly wasn't going to talk about it with him. He had enough problems of his
own.

"Well, B Falls is a nice town,
at least usually."

"Don't you have to see to
customers?" People had come in, and no one was working the bar. Besides,
she didn't want him asking too many questions.

"Oh crap, yeah. Mom's in the
kitchen. I'd better handle things." He started to walk away then turned
back. "Will you stick around for a while more so we can catch up?"

She nodded as he strode to the bar.
The crowd wasn't large, and he returned to the table fifteen minutes later.
This time he brought two beers and slid one over to her.

"Thanks, Mike." She
sipped and said, "I saw the newspaper this morning."

Stressed and angry looking, he
squeezed the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes.

"It must have been a really
hard day at school." She felt for him but kept her voice and expression
neutral, in attorney mode.

"Did you happen to see the guy
with the ponytail last night? Stu Pressman's the reporter who broke the story.
He came in to give me a heads-up."

"Yes, I noticed you went from
cheerful to upset after talking to him."

"It sucked. I can't believe my
name came up in this—situation. I'm not involved in it in any way. The fact
that someone I work with, who I considered a friend, falsely implicated me…"
He grimaced, slowly shaking his head.

Her professional side kicked in,
and she watched his face, judging whether he told the truth or not. He'd run
his fingers through that thick dark hair, standing it up in places. She smiled
at a Superman lock lying on his forehead.

Glancing up at that moment, he
scowled, "It's not funny."

He looked devastated, defeated.
Somehow she felt it wasn't his default expression, and she didn't like seeing
it on him. Last night his smile had lit up the place, so broad, his teeth
dazzling white, tiny fan lines at the corners of his eyes. She'd seen all that
when he'd asked his mom for cookies. Obviously, she'd witnessed happy normality,
but the town appeared to have a dark underbelly.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing
at you." Instinctively she knew he wasn't involved in the test cheating
scandal, and, faced with a completely honest person, she took a deep breath of
relief. She'd begun to doubt integrity existed in any man after her experience
with Garrett. Mike talked for a while, rambling on about who he thought falsely
involved him and why. She understood betrayal, having been on the receiving end
of it. It hurt like hell.

"I just hope the truth comes
out soon. It's destroying the school. The kids are distracted and look at all
of us with suspicion. We look at each other with suspicion. Everyone's afraid
to talk to one another. The investigation needs to get moving and clear this up
fast."

"Do you have a lawyer?"

"No! I don't need one. I'm not
guilty of anything."

"Even the innocent need a
lawyer to protect their rights."

"Are you volunteering?"

She didn't want to be involved in
this. It wasn't her problem. She had enough of her own to face. "I'm not
registered in this state." Stifling a lot of legal advice she could
impart, she settled for putting her hand on his arm as comfort, possibly
unwanted and unneeded, not to mention likely ineffective. The movement drew his
attention, and he lifted his gaze to her. At first his expression appeared
blank, then his eyes softened.

Her heart suddenly fluttered, her
cheeks burned, and she pulled her hand back.
Don't get drawn in. You have enough going on.
"Just be careful
and protect yourself. If you need to get a lawyer, do it. This is too important
to leave to chance. You need to prove you didn't participate in the cheating.
You can't just expect people to believe a negative about you because you think
they know you. They know the other teachers involved too. The paper said there'd
been parties where the teachers got together, ordered pizza, and changed
answers. You have to prove you were somewhere else when the manipulation was
going on. Find out when those parties took place and sync those dates and times
with your whereabouts. Is that possible?"