Clandestine Cover-Up. Pamela Tracy

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СКАЧАТЬ shook her head. For a moment, she wondered if Vince would call them. He seemed to be sizing her up. His expression didn’t change so she couldn’t tell if he thought she was incredibly brave for not alerting the authorities or undeniably stupid.

      Tamara would have thought a client who didn’t call the police was stupid.

      One thing for sure, she was a better lawyer now because she empathized with her clients. Or she would, once she began practicing law again and had clients.

      Vince stepped past her and entered the church. He glanced around. “Nothing else looks touched.”

      Considering the broken furniture and trash, his statement was almost comical, but Tamara knew from the walk-through of the building she and Billy had taken just a few days ago that broken furniture and debris were the only occupants of the no longer used church.

      In a way, the old church was like Tamara, only she housed a broken dream, a broken relationship and broken spirit.

      And if she could envision the old church as new and whole, then surely she could envision herself the same way.

      

      Vince’s whole life, he’d been turning around and cleaning up messes. Usually, his messes didn’t look quite this good. Or this spooked. Taking that into consideration, Vince looked around for both a piece of cardboard and a section of newspaper.

      Normally, it would have taken him just a second to dispose of the mouse. Instead, keeping in mind that Tamara watched his every move, he gently nudged the critter onto the cardboard, covered it with the newspaper and then took it outside.

      When Vince finally returned, after fetching a flashlight from his truck, he studied her. She stood, looking pale, by the side of the front door. She chewed her bottom lip.

      He hadn’t noticed that habit when they’d walked down the aisle together at her sister’s wedding. Maybe the nervous habit was new. Based on what she’d gone through the past six months, he could certainly understand. “You want me to take you home or do you want to walk around and make sure everything’s where it should be?”

      “I want to walk around.”

      Vince turned on the flashlight. It was dark enough inside for the light to make a difference. “This grand old dame has plenty of life in her yet. I’m glad someone’s finally going to do something with her. You know, I’ve never been inside. I always did the outside yardwork while Lydia worked on the inside.”

      “This is only my second time seeing the inside. Billy brought me over once, but he needed to catch a plane back to Denver for some family thing, so we didn’t see much.”

      “I’m surprised a lawyer wouldn’t demand a closer inspection.”

      “Oh,” Tamara said, “I know a bargain when I see one. I can recognize potential, too. Plus, I trust the home inspector.”

      “This is probably the oldest building left on Main Street. The bookstore next door is old, but nothing like this.” Vince stood in the middle of the room. A decade of dust shimmered in the air. Windows, curtainless, were so murky the outdoor sun couldn’t find a spot to peek in.

      Tamara walked into the center of the room. Her face softened a bit as she looked around. Some of the spooked look went away as she studied her purchase.

      The church’s meeting room housed roughly fourteen pews. Seven on each side. Some were broken; the others looked fine except for dust. A table was at the front of the room and a pulpit was right behind it. Both could use a good cleaning, but other than that, everything looked in fine shape.

      “As soon as I can, I’m setting up practice. This will be my secretary’s office. I’ll have a couch as well as tables here. I’ll add bookcases. I’ll have a table set up with coffee and the daily newspaper. I’ll put pictures on the wall showing pleased clients.”

      “This room’s big enough,” he agreed. “You could almost retexture and build the bookcases right into the walls.”

      Knowing he might regret what he was about to do, Vince reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. Then, he withdrew a business card and handed it to her.

      She looked at his uniform with Konrad Construction embroidered on his left pocket. Then she looked again at the card. “You work on the side as a handyman and a lawn man?” she asked after looking the card over.

      “I started at age ten mowing lawns. Lydia hired me when I was about thirteen. She had me do more than yards. She had me fixing fences and building sheds. We even redid the sidewalk in front of her house one year. I think she’s to blame for my career choice. She’s definitely to blame for my side job.”

      “I’ll take this into consideration,” Tamara said, sliding his card into her purse. Stepping over what looked to be a leg from one of the pews, she headed for a door to the right of the front table. It led to an empty room.

      “What could this room have been?” she asked.

      “It’s probably where the church shared their meals. Maybe it doubled as a classroom.”

      She raised an eyebrow. “You attend church?”

      “No, but I’ve helped build one. I do know that potlucks are a given and that there’s never enough classroom space.”

      As they walked from room to room, he talked about replacing outdated fixtures and the cost of building materials. And with every word, he saw her relaxing a bit.

      Maybe by the time they finished the walk-through she’d be willing to call the police.

      They found two classrooms. Small chairs were stacked in corners. Chalkboards, warped beyond repair, hung on the walls. Next were two bathrooms. In black paint, someone had printed MEN on one. The smaller bathroom read WOMEN. He opened both doors, but didn’t step in or invite her to look; instead he muttered something about copper pipe and enough space.

      She’d wandered away from him around that time. He backed out of the restroom and saw that she was gone. He felt a moment of concern, and then he saw an open door and her footprints in the dust on the stairs.

      She’d found the attic.

      “This will be my office. This makes the whole venture worthwhile,” she said, looking out the window at Main Street below. She left the window and her steps creaked in the silence.

      “Old houses always make noise,” she said. He could see she needed to believe it, needed to forget what was still written in graffiti on the front door.

      “Yes,” he agreed.

      “Look at this desk! It’s huge, it’s mahogany, it’s perfect.” She looked around the room again. “Everything else in the room will have to go. First, those boxes stacked against the wall. Then, what’s that old machine the size of a dishwasher?”

      “That’s an old copy machine. I saw one when we took down the old theater. Look at the crank handle. They probably used it to make their bulletins.”

      “Amazing,” Tamara muttered. She wasn’t talking about the copy machine. Right now she was looking at a single room full of dust, junk and old furniture. The look in her eyes said she wasn’t СКАЧАТЬ