Annie's Neighborhood. Roz Fox Denny

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      Missy returned to her house and Annie stored her tools.

      She walked to the end of her driveway to study the trio of newly painted homes, and thought they looked fantastic. It gave her personal satisfaction to see them so fresh and attractive—more satisfaction than she’d felt in a while. She’d thought she loved her job in L.A. But maybe the work had begun to weigh on her more than she’d realized. Her challenges here were more physical than mental. Here she used her creativity. Until now she hadn’t noticed how long it had been since she’d done any cooking, sewing or gardening. Her main regret, though, was that she hadn’t budgeted her time well enough to visit Gran Ida sooner.

      Because her recent loss was still too raw, she distracted herself by installing the window boxes she’d bought. Soon she’d fill them with trailing roses. She wanted to tear out the old wisteria that covered a rock retaining wall. With Louisville gearing up for the Kentucky Derby, nurseries were selling gorgeous rosebushes. Annie pictured roses in a riot of color all across the front of this house, down the road and through the park again.

      The next day, the weather turned from sunny and warm to muggy rain. Bad weather drove Annie inside. She alternately worked on kitchen curtains and a flyer to inform residents about her restoration planning meeting. The place, date and time were set. Darn it, though, she’d hoped to do some landscaping before she took pictures to put on her flyer. But the rain hung around for two more days, putting the kibosh on all her outdoor plans. She dug through Gran’s boxes of fabric and found just what she needed for drapes.

      * * *

      KOOT TALMAGE BLEW into police headquarters on a gust of rain and wind. Shutting the door with some difficulty, he stamped water from his wet boots, then shook off his official yellow slicker and hung it on a peg near the door.

      Sky saw him and stepped into the hallway, his coffee cup in hand. “Are we going to have a real gully washer today?”

      “Already is,” the other man grumbled as he met Sky at the coffeemaker and helped himself to a clean mug hanging on a wall rack.

      “Is it causing flooding around Grandiflora or Hybrid Tea?” Sky named two streets that paralleled the river.

      “Nothing like it used to before our city manager ordered storm drains installed. I remember how the people on those streets griped about the inconvenience when they tore up the intersection. Aaron Loomis won’t be hearing any complaints now.”

      “That’s good. Listen, I want all of us out on patrol about the time the high school lets out. Hopefully seeing our cruisers will slow the kids down. First big rain after a dry spell, young drivers tend to forget cars can hydroplane if they drive too fast. We don’t need any of our kids ending up rearranging anyone’s front landscaping.”

      “Speaking of landscapes, have you driven down Rose Arbor recently?”

      Sky choked on a swig of his coffee. “Not really. Why?” he mumbled after Koot had pounded his back. Sky had made checking the street that suffered the three robberies part of his nightly routine. Because his checks weren’t entirely of an official nature, but partly a personal interest he’d taken in Annie Emerson, Sky wasn’t about to admit that he already knew about the improvements on Rose Arbor. He didn’t want to feel any interest in Annie, but he did—and he wasn’t about to admit that, either.

      “Well, there’ve been big changes at the three homes where we investigated those break-ins.”

      “Changes?” Sky played along, even though he’d witnessed stages of the restoration via his car lights and one streetlamp. He knew Annie, the California cyclone, would get the credit or blame, depending on whether or not her plans to spearhead urban renewal caused upheaval among the rank and file.

      “As soon as the rain lets up, you need to go take a gander. Those same three homes have been painted from top to bottom. The one in the middle is obviously being prepared for new landscaping. All those renos are pricy, Sky. I wonder if we’ve got ourselves a case of insurance fraud.”

      This time Sky did spew his coffee. “Sorry.” He grabbed a paper towel, wiped the counter and bent to scrub part of the linoleum. “Tell me what brought on that conclusion.”

      “At least two of those couples claimed losses in the robberies. Ida Vance’s granddaughter never provided us with a list of her stolen goods. After I saw what’s going on over there, I started thinking the gal from California might be some kind of scam artist. The TV news is full of those tales. A lot of ’em are in Florida, but some are in and around L.A. She could’ve set it up so they all collected big on phony insurance claims.”

      Sky returned to his office. “Annie Emerson is no scam artist, Koot. And don’t be saying anything like that around town. I told you I got back some of their stolen property that had been hocked. I even found silverware Ms. Emerson didn’t know had gone missing. They’re honest folks.”

      Koot followed his boss into his cramped office. “You sound pretty certain of that for somebody who claims not to have seen the work that’s gone on there.”

      “Well, the day I returned the stolen goods I was able to track down, Ms. Emerson was sanding old paint off her house.” He winced, remembering how she’d bruised his shin—and his pride—that day. Frowning, Sky sat in his swivel chair and beat a tattoo on his desk pad with a thumb. “Her biggest drawback isn’t that she’s a criminal, Koot. It’s that she’s too stubborn for words. Remember the night I had dinner at your house, and asked you and Sadie whether you thought one person could start a movement and turn this town around?”

      “Yep. I recall thinking you’d gotten too big a whiff of that marijuana you’d confiscated from the middle school that day.”

      “What you said was that it would take a fairy godmother to wave a magic wand. Well, picture Annie Emerson with wings and a sparkly crown.”

      “There you go again, talking in riddles.”

      “I didn’t come right out and say that our newest resident presented me with a nutty idea. She plans to conduct a town hall meeting and convince all our residents to paint their homes. She thinks that’ll cure any ills Briar Run suffers.”

      Koot dropped heavily into the chair across from Sky. “Why did you beat about the bush instead of telling Sadie and me the truth about what you knew?”

      Sky stared at his coffee mug. “I don’t know. Yes, I do know.... I didn’t want you guys calling her a nut job. She’s nice, but has misplaced ideas.”

      “Have you gone sweet on Annie Emerson?”

      “No.” Sky reared back, shooting Koot a scowl. “The thing is, she asked for my backing and I ran for the car like a scalded jackrabbit. Apparently she hasn’t let that stop her.”

      The older man propped his elbows on his knees. “I’ve gotta say the houses look good. But, Sky, if she makes too much noise about believing that her urban renewal plan will drive out crime, won’t that make the Stingers view her as a threat?”

      Sky’s nervous thumb tapped faster.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ