CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
As soon as we pulled out of the driveway, I said, “What’s up with Rafe?” “Mama is coming in tomorrow and he’s worried.”
I sympathized with Rafe. The first time I met Mrs. Salvare, she invited me to dinner, grilled me on my plans for the future, and got me drunk on wine-on purpose. A test of character, according to Marco. He said I passed, but I still had my doubts, and I still got nervous whenever she came to town.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked.
“She says she wants to see how her little boy is faring. Rafe is worried that she’s coming to take him back with her.”
“Rafe is a grown man. Can’t he just tell her he’s staying here?”
“Rafe needs to grow a spine before he can do that.”
“You can’t just say he has to grow a spine, Marco. The poor guy has to gain confidence before he can stand up to your mother. Getting this new job on his own is a good first step.”
“He dropped out of college and is working at Hooters learning how to tend bar. That may boost Rafe’s self- confidence, but it’s not going to inspire a whole lot of assurance in Francesca Salvare, trust me.”
I saw Marco’s point. Poor Rafe. No wonder he was worried. But then another thought crossed my mind. “What if your mom has an ulterior motive for coming to town?”
Marco glanced at me. “What would that be?”
“Us.”
He pondered that for a moment. “You’re right. We haven’t made our announcement yet.”
“Exactly.”
“We haven’t had that discussion yet, either.”
With all the turmoil, I’d pushed it out of my mind. “We probably should.”
“When? Now?”
Now? I’d just mentioned it. I had to prepare. “Not now. We’re almost at Bloomers.”
“How about at lunch?”
“Lottie and Grace will be there. Can we make it at dinner?”
“Done.”
“Next problem-my mom. I have to talk her out of working for PAR.”
“Abby, you know there’s no way to stop her.”
“I have to try. Once Raand finds out about her involvement, he’ll come after both of us. I can’t expose her to that. I’ll confer with Dad. Maybe he can talk sense into her.”
As was now our procedure, Marco phoned ahead to alert Lottie and Grace of our impending arrival, so that when we pulled up, the women were standing guard at the door, scanning up and down the sidewalk for any signs of danger. I was beginning to understand how a movie star felt as I was whisked into the store with my security entourage around me.
With the door locked firmly behind me, and Marco on his way to park the car, my first order of business was to grab a cup of Grace’s coffee, then sit down with both women to fill them in on my visit to the hospital and subsequent trip to New Buffalo. They had lots of questions about Honey Bebe and Harding and whether they were linked to the kidnappings, but, unfortunately, I didn’t have lots of answers.
As we were discussing Honey’s disappearing act, the phone rang and Lottie got up to answer it in the shop.
“Abby,” she called from the doorway, “I’ve got that salesman on hold. You remember the one who left you that little flashlight? Do you want to speak to him?”
“I haven’t had a chance to look at his price list, but if it will stop his annoying calls, I’ll take it.” I had started toward the phone at the cashier’s counter when Marco rapped on the door.
I let him in, and he strode past me, saying, “I think I know where I can find more information on Charlotte.”
“Where?”
“Come see.”
I started to follow him, but then Lottie cleared her throat and pointed to the phone, where the light was blinking. “Would you take a message, please?” I asked her. “Tell the salesman I’ll try to find time later today to call him.”
I followed Marco into the workroom and leaned over his shoulder as he logged on to the computer and began to type. But after a few minutes of watching him search through pages of results, I grew bored and decided to work on an order. I plucked a slip off the spindle and studied the instructions Grace had written: Ninety-fifth birthday bouquet. Recipient-Jennie Helen Bolek. Bright colors. Fun. I loved doing bright and fun, and for a ninety- fifth birthday, it had to be extra special.
“Take a look at this,” Marco said as I gathered my tools. “It’s an online job application Charlotte submitted in January for a position with Chinn, Knowles, and Brown.”
“No kidding? But isn’t a job application considered confidential information? How did you get it?”
Marco lifted an eyebrow.
“Okay, don’t tell me, then. Was her application rejected or is that a secret, too?”
“It doesn’t say, but I know how to find out.”
While Marco placed a call, I stepped into the walk-in cooler to select my stems. Humming happily, I lost myself among the fresh blossoms, breathing in the soothing floral scents, absorbing the dewy moisture, feeling at peace with the world. Ah, if only I didn’t have to step outside again.
Okay, bright and fun for a special birthday. Definitely some deep pink tulips, orange lilies, purple foxgloves, white mini callas, yellow daisies, bird-of-paradise… Hmm. A mix of blue, purple, and pink anemones would be the perfect finish… except I still didn’t have any. Damn. I’d have to use gerberas instead.
I nearly dropped my armload of flowers when Marco spoke from behind me. “Listen to this. According to the office manager at Chinn, Knowles, and Brown, Charlotte left Uniworld to work as a filing clerk for Attorney Knowles.”
“So Charlotte went from Uniworld to the lawyer representing Uniworld. That certainly establishes a strong link between Raand and the kidnappers.”
“Here’s where it gets really interesting. Knowles fired Charlotte two days before the first kidnapping attempt.”
“Why was she fired?”
“The office manager didn’t know. The only person who can answer that is Knowles, and you can bet he won’t.”
“Okay, Marco, I know you don’t like me making giant leaps, but here’s one I can’t help but make. Maybe Knowles fired Charlotte because he found out about the kidnapping plot.”
“If Attorney Knowles had that information, he would have had to be forthcoming with the police. He’s an officer of the court.”
“Even if doing so implicated his client?”
“Knowles would have warned Raand that he knew about the plot. In that case, I can’t imagine Raand giving the go-ahead to Charlotte and Hudge.”
“So what do we do with this information?”
“Nothing yet. I want to see what else I can dig up on Charlotte.”
I surveyed the flowers on the table, still puzzled over the anemones. “Before you do that, I need to look up an order on the computer.”
I brought up a file containing my recent orders and sure enough, Lottie had put in for anemones more than three weeks ago. “There it is,” I said, pointing to the monitor. “Paid in full. Now I need to find out why we didn’t receive them.”
I opened my lower desk drawer and removed a manila folder containing our various suppliers’ information, then vacated the chair so Marco could resume his search. I took the folder to the kitchen to call the supplier in question.
