Tomorrow's Promises (Bellingwood Book 7) (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

Rachel was right. The man wasn't dressed in a flashy suit at all, but was wearing a plaid shirt tucked into his jeans. He turned the chair and stood to greet her.

"Miss Giller?" he asked.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

He gestured to the seat he'd been in and moved to another chair, waiting for her to sit down. "Miss Giller, I am certain that my name will mean nothing to you, but I was a friend of your dad's in college. He and I lost touch over the years, but I find myself in the precarious position of needing your assistance. Being as how you are Ev's little girl, I'm hoping you carry his heart and soul in yours."

Before she could
respond, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and drew out several pieces of paper that had been folded together. He flattened the sheets on the table before pushing them in front of her.

They were pages from her father's college yearbook. She remembered looking through it when she was much younger. It had always been strange to think of her dad as a college student and it fascinated her to see him from a different perspective. The first was a picture of her dad's fraternity. She shuffled to the next sheet and smiled at the photograph of her dad in a laboratory, wearing goggles and bent over a Bunsen burner. Another picture from the yearbook showed him stretched out on the lawn, leaning back on his elbows, grinning up at the photographer.

Polly put the pages back on the table and looked at the man who was facing her. He could well be her father's age. He was slim and wiry, his tanned face lined by years of working outside. His fingers were long with very pronounced veins running across his hands and there was pain and weariness in his eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The man reached across the table and pushed the pages apart, then pointed to a boy standing across the lab table from her father. "That's me, Curtis Locke." He pointed at the picture of the fraternity, touching the face of the same young boy who had slung his arm around her father's shoulder. "We were friends. He was my best friend back then."

"I see," she said. "Why are you here today?"

He took the pages back from her and ran his hand across the photograph in the laboratory, then folded them back up and clutched them. "I need your help. Not for me, but for my baby girl. Ev told me that if I ever needed anything, he'd be there. It looks like I'm too late to find him, but I hope you might be able to help me. I don't know where else to turn."

Polly held his gaze until his eyes shifted back to the pages he held. "Tell me what it is that you need, Mr. Locke."

"Call me Curt, please," he said. "No one calls me Mr. Locke unless they're giving me a paycheck. Do you believe that I knew your Dad?"

"I don't understand why it took you so long to look for him.
" she asked.

He sat back in the chair. "Your dad left college and started farming. My number got called up. Viet Nam. I didn't come back with all my marbles. I
called your Dad one night, just to reconnect. He didn't mean anything by it, but when he told me what a great life he was living with his pretty wife and cute little baby girl, I didn't feel like I had the right to mess it up. And I would have messed it up. I ruined everything else in my life back then. I couldn't tell him how screwed up I was - he would have tried to rescue me. He didn't need my problems. So, I never called again."

He was afraid she wouldn't believe him and it showed
. Polly knew there were many heartbreaking stories about vets and the difficulty they had reintegrating into society, but had never come face to face with it. Eliseo tried to tell her that he might experience problems because of PTSD, but he'd conquered so much before she met him that he seemed more like a superhero than a wounded vet.

"What have you been doing for the last forty years?" she asked.

"I've been in and out of jail and then I finally found a good reason to straighten up. I met a woman and you could say she helped me find my way. There was no use telling her no when it came to cleaning up my act. She wouldn't put up with it. I never figured out why she stuck, but we had four children. I haven't made an easy life for her or the kids. She's back in Colorado with our youngest. Our only girl, the second from the youngest, has disappeared. We finally found out she was in Iowa and the only person I knew here was your father. When I got to Story City, though, I found out that he had died."

He sat forward and put his hand on the table, reaching
out. Polly put her hand on top of his and he said, "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Giller. Your father was a good, good man."

"He really was," she said. "I wish you'd had an opportunity to know him again.
But why do you think I can help you find your daughter?"

Curt sat back again and seemed to
fold in on himself. "I have no one else. She's nineteen and left on her own." When he looked up again, tears filled his eyes. "I'll take the blame. I wasn't home enough to tell her she was a good kid. The only thing we ever did was yell at her for screwing up. She was a normal teenager and we just couldn't let her be. I know that drove her away, Miss Giller, and now I have to make sure she's safe."

"Do you know where she is or who she's with? Iowa is a pretty big state."

He took another piece of paper from his wallet and handed it to Polly. "Her mother talked to one of Jessie's friends and got a name." He shook his head. "But how many Dennis Smiths are there? We don't know what he looks like or how old he is or what town he lives in. We don't even know if they're still here."

"When did she leave
home?" Polly asked.

"She's been gone two months. We kept thinking she'd come home or call, but she left her cell phone at the house." He stopped. "I'm sorry. This is a lot to ask of you."

Polly let out a breath. "It's a lot, that's for sure, and I'm not an investigator by any means. But I do have friends who might be able to help. Have you got a place to stay?"

"I stayed in Story City last night. I can go back there."

She smiled to herself. Jeff wasn't going to believe this one. "Let me make some calls. Have you had anything to eat? Would you like coffee?"

"I'm fine. I just want to find Jessie and tell her that she doesn't have to cut us out of her life. I want her to know we love her, even if I screwed everything up."

"Her name is Jessie Locke and the man she is with is Dennis Smith, right?"

"Yes."

"Tell me more about Jessie's friend and what she knows."

"Maggie. She told us Jessie was coming to Iowa. The guy has a job here somewhere."

"Maggie hasn't heard from her either?"

"If she did,
she isn't saying. Those two girls were best friends and if Jessie asked her to keep quiet, she would. The last couple of years have been difficult for my girl. I tried to take the blame for everything that was going on in the house. It was just easier."

"And Maggie would keep this information from your wife?"

"When Jessie left, she and her mother had a terrible row. She called her mother some awful things and Kelly told her to get out and stay out."

"I'm sorry," Polly said.

"We figured this would pass, just like every other bad thing did with that girl. She was always pushing us. Maybe it all accumulated to where she couldn't deal with any more. All of that mad and hurt bubbled up and she left."

"I can't believe you never met this boyfriend."

"She wouldn't bring him around, said we'd embarrass her. We don't have a lot of money and the house isn't anything special. She always wanted it to be fixed up and fancy. It's got solid walls and is clean, but there's nothing fancy about it. When she was in junior high, she brought a friend over once and the girl laughed at the dining room table because it wasn't very pretty. Jessie never invited anyone over again. Kelly and I did our best, Miss Giller. It was just never good enough for the girl."

"Let me make a few calls, Mr. Locke," Polly started and he interrupted her.

"Please call me Curt."

"Okay
, I'll try." She stood and walked to the door. "Sycamore House is a big place and there are a lot of things to see. There is a garden on the corner and you can walk down and talk to the horses and donkeys at the barn."

"Thank you, Miss Giller."

"If I have to call you Curt, you might as well get comfortable with Polly. And please, if you go back this way," she was already walking out the door of the office and pointed toward the kitchen, "you will find Rachel, the girl who came up to get me. She's in the kitchen and can pour you a cup of coffee or serve you breakfast. I'll find you after a bit."

He walked toward the front door and went outside. Polly turned back to Sarah Heater, who was working through a pile of contracts. She had cleared nearly all of the stacks of paper from Jeff Lyndsay's office over the last two months, slowly getting them digitized and filed. Her health was on hold as the chemo continued to work in her body. Some days were horrible and she could do nothing other than stay in bed. Other days weren't quite as bad and she did as much as possible.

Sarah's nine year old daughter, Rebecca, had placed herself in charge of her mother's care once school let out for the summer. Today, though, Sylvie Donovan had taken her son, Andrew, and Rebecca down to Des Moines. They were due back in time for Sylvie to finish preparations for the evening's wedding reception. She'd had a day off from classes and since Sarah was feeling so well, Rebecca had consented to an outing.

"Is that someone you know, Polly?" Sarah asked.

"He knew my father, I guess. I've never met him, but it sounds like he needs help."

Sarah smiled up at her. "You are certainly the person to come to when someone needs help."

"I don't know how this happens," Polly dropped into the chair in front of Sarah's desk. "I'm about to call Aaron. Maybe I should put this on speaker so you can hear him. You know he's going to think I found another body."

"Oh, do!" Sarah's face lit up. "I want to hear it."

"Well first, you're going to have to listen to Jeff sigh at me. I need to ask him if the rooms are ready at the hotel."

"There's a room available upstairs here," Sarah said. "The last guest cleared out Wednesday night and Rachel already has it cleaned.
There's one girl coming in this afternoon and then we don't have anyone due until ..." She clicked through a screen on her computer. "Not until next Sunday."

Polly grinned. "Oh, I love that you have that information. We'll see what torment Jeff tries to put me through."

She pressed the button to call him and turned the speaker on.

"Good morning, Polly. Do you have your apartment all cleaned up for your friends?" Jeff asked.

"I'm working on it, but I need a huge favor."

She could practically hear his eyes roll back in his head and looked over at Sarah, who had clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"You need a room for someone, don't you?" he grumbled. "Don't you know that we are a business and trying to make money?"

"So there's nothing available? Nothing at all?"

"You try my patience, boss lady. Let me do some digging and see what miracle I can work for you this time."

"You're like my own personal Scotty," Polly said.

"Your what? Like a Scotty dog?"

"No, you muggle. Scotty from Star Trek. He always over-exaggerated the trouble it was going to cause him to get the ship up and running for Captain Kirk. He wanted to look like a hero."

"I am a hero. I always find room when you need it."

"And
you'll find a room for me this time, won't you."

Jeff let out a deep, long sigh. "There's a room upstairs and you know it. You're sitting there beside Sarah, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?" Polly chuckled into the phone and Sarah released the laughter she'd been holding back.

"Sarah, you are supposed to make me look good," he said. "You aren't supposed to spoil my fun."