I thought about Burtis, who had showed up a couple of days before Ethan and the guys had arrived with the basket filled with potatoes that had spent the winter cool and dry in his root cellar. He’d stood in the porch and he had seemed to fill the space. “I hear you’re going to have some extra mouths to feed,” he’d said.
A basket of potatoes might have seemed like an odd gift, but not to me. Russet potatoes from Burtis Chapman’s huge garden had a wonderful flavor and made delicious fries and hash browns. I would also have happily eaten them in a big bowl mashed with butter and a little salt and pepper.
Burtis Chapman was an intensely loyal man to his friends—including Marcus’s father, Elliot Gordon, whom he’d known since they were boys. But he’d worked for Idris Blackthorne—Ruby’s grandfather—as a young man. Idris had been the area bootlegger, among other things, and he’d had a reputation for coming down hard and fast on anyone who crossed him. There were some people in town who saw Burtis the same way.
I knew Burtis was a big football fan, a Vikings fan in particular, knowledgeable about stats and trades and who was injured in any given week. I wasn’t sure if he followed college football or the Canadian league, but if he didn’t there was at least a chance he’d know someone who did.
I looked in the direction of the living room. Was that why Owen had climbed into the potato basket? Was it his way of making me think of Burtis? I shook my head. No. That was a bit too much of a stretch. I was seeing connections where there weren’t any, I told myself. Still, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe I was right.
I did a load of laundry, cleaned the bathroom and dusted everywhere. Ethan got up, muttered a good morning and foraged in the kitchen for breakfast—wearing a T-shirt for a change. After he’d eaten—two scrambled eggs with mushrooms and tomatoes, two cups of coffee and a slice of Rebecca’s pie—he’d wandered into the living room to ask if he could do some laundry later.
“I kinda need some clean clothes to take with me,” he said, scratching his stubbled chin.
“Go ahead,” I said. “What time are you leaving?” The Flaming Gerbils were playing three shows in Milwaukee, about a four-and-a-half-hour drive away. They’d be back on Monday.
Ethan yawned and scratched one armpit. “I told the guys I’d pick them up at one o’clock.” He looked around the room. “You want me to vacuum for you?” he asked.
“Seriously?” I said.
He shrugged. “Yeah. I figure it’s the least I can do since I’m staying here and eating your food.”
I grinned at him. “You’re right. So yes and thank you.”
I left for the library a bit more than an hour later. I gave Ethan a hug. “Have fun.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me to stay out of trouble?” he teased.
“You’re a grown man now, not a little kid,” I said. “I’m going to try harder to treat you that way.”
“Plus, you know you’re wasting time.” His dark eyes gleamed.
I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “By the way, Rebecca will probably bring Hercules back in a little while.”
He frowned. “How is she going to do that? The furball doesn’t let anyone but you pick him up.”
I smiled, getting a mental image of Rebecca pulling Hercules in her wagon. “I’m just going to let you see that for yourself,” I said.
I stopped in at Eric’s for coffee before I went to the library. Standing at the counter, I realized I had forgotten to bring my lunch or to even make it, for that matter. “Is it too late for a breakfast sandwich?” I asked Claire.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Hang on. Let me check with Eric.”
Claire poked her head in the kitchen and was back in less than a minute. She smiled. “He says it will only be a few minutes.”
I thanked her and dropped onto a stool to wait. The door to the café opened and Simon Janes walked in.
“Hi, Kathleen,” he said. “This is a nice surprise, seeing you twice in less than a day.”
“I talked to Mia last night,” I said, swinging around on the stool so I was facing him.
He made a face. “Did she happen to tell you that she’s met a guy?”
I laughed. “Yes, she did. She has a good head on her shoulders, thanks to you. Don’t worry.”
Simon pointed a finger at me. “That may be so, but any questions about boys and anything related to them are going to be referred to you.”
After Simon’s father’s death I’d moved into a surrogate-mother role with Mia, and I treasured our connection. I smiled. “That’s fine with me.”
Simon gave Claire his take-out order and then turned to me again. “I didn’t tell you last night. I heard what happened at the hotel. You found Lewis Wallace’s body.”
I nodded. “I did.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said. “Has Marcus figured out what happened yet?”
“He’s still investigating.”
“If you think it might help, I can ask around, see if I can find out anything else about the man.” He picked up a sugar packet and flipped it over his fingers.
I didn’t see the point in denying that I was interested in Lewis Wallace. But I didn’t want to lead Simon on, either.
As if he could read my mind, Simon held up his hands and said, “As friends, Kathleen. No catch.”
I didn’t have a lot of other options at the moment. I nodded. “Thank you.”
Claire came back with my food. I slid off the stool.
“I’ll be in touch if I find out anything,” Simon said.
I thanked him again and headed for the library, hoping I wasn’t going to regret this.
chapter 10
Simon came into the library midmorning on Saturday. By that time I had already put out the new magazines, updated the anti-virus software on our computers and helped a mom-to-be find several books on baby care.
I knew from the expression on Simon’s face that he’d found something. “That was fast,” I said.
He smiled. “More good luck than good timing,” he said. “I’m not even sure if what I learned is going to be of any use to you.”
“What did you find out?” I asked. I’d learned so little about Lewis Wallace so far that anything Simon could tell me would help.
“Wallace’s other business failed because basically he didn’t pay any attention to it. When you start a business you need to be boots on the ground all the time. You need to be there, putting in the time, putting in the effort. He wasn’t. They were really just using his name and image.”
“That doesn’t make him sound like a very good businessman.”
Simon shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I think at the time he was just trying to exploit what little name recognition he had.”
“So that might explain why the development committee was willing to consider making a deal with him even though he didn’t have the best track record.”
“It might.”
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I said. There was something in his tone. Skepticism, maybe? It was almost as if he knew something but wasn’t sure whether or not he believed it.
“Two things, actually,” he said. “I don’t know if you knew, but there were a couple of lawsuits filed against Wallace’s memorabilia business.”
I nodded. “I knew.”
“You know how long those things can take to move through the legal system.” Simon patted his jacket pocket with one hand and I wondered if that’s where his phone was.
“Years,” I said. “But I thought those lawsuits had been settled out of court.”
“They were. Just a few weeks ago, by Lewis Wallace.”
It took me a moment to catch what he was getting at. “You mean by Wallace personally. Not by his insurance company.”