The Walleld Flower (30 page)

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Authors: Lorraine Bartlett

BOOK: The Walleld Flower
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Katie rounded the corner. Sure enough, small Hannah sat in a child’s wooden rocking chair across the way from Polly’s booth, her wee fingers white where she clenched the armrests. Silent tears trickled down her pale cheeks.

Katie glanced around to see if Polly had left the child in someone else’s care, but there were no other vendors in sight. She swallowed her fury and crouched down next to the girl, softening her voice. “Hannah, where’s your grandmama?”

“I don’t know. She told me to stay here. If I don’t she’ll, she’ll—” Her lower lip trembled and she screwed her eyes shut.

“Why are you crying?”

The girl hiccupped. “My toys—all gone.”

Katie reached into her jeans pocket for a clean tissue and dabbed at the girl’s face. “What happened to them?”

“I put them away. Until I saved my money. Grandmama says you have to buy the things you want. I have two nickels and three pennies.” The teary girl’s gaze traveled to the empty booth where Edie’s merchandise had sat until the day before.

“Did you put them in a box under the table?” Katie asked gently.

The small head nodded. Hannah pointed to the bare walls, her lower lip trembling. “They’re all gone.”

“Did you take the things from your grandmama’s booth, and the other stuff like the little horse?”

Hannah nodded. “I want to be like Grandmama. She makes pretty things.”

Katie looked up at the shelf behind the girl, seeing the clay horse that had been in the box of missing items she’d found the day before. The other things that had been missing from this booth accompanied it. Katie stood and took the horse down, handed it to Hannah. “Is this one of your toys?”

Hannah’s mouth opened in a joyful grin. “Mine, mine!” She held it to her chest, her small body twisting back and forth with pure happiness. “I can pay for it.” She reached
into her jacket pocket and withdrew five coins, holding them out for Katie to see. “Is it enough?”

Katie smiled, her heart about to break. “I think so. Why don’t we go buy it, and then we’ll see if we can find something good to eat.”

But Hannah shook her head. “Grandmama said I’ll be in trouble if I don’t stay here ’til she comes back.”

“It’s pretty lonely up here. Why don’t you come downstairs and keep me company until she gets back. You won’t be in trouble. I promise.”

Hannah thought it over. “Well… okay.”

Katie offered Hannah her hand and gently squeezed the small fingers as they curled around her own. “Do you like cinnamon buns?”

Hannah shrugged her shoulders and laughed. “I don’t know what they are.”

They started off toward the stairs. “Well, then you’re in for a
big
treat.”

Hannah had drawn three pictures of her clay horsey, and Katie had found not only Andy’s ad but had circled two possible apartments in the newspaper’s “For Rent” section. She was still pondering what—and even if—to tell Detective Davenport about the sort of threatening note she’d received when the McKinlay Mill Cinnamon Bun King arrived with a plate full of heavenly delights.

“Boy, am I glad to see you,” Katie said, and gave Andy a quick kiss.

He looked down at the child seated at the table. “I see you have a new friend.”

“Yes. Andy, this is Hannah. Hannah, this is Andy.”

Hannah looked up. “Grandmama says I’m not allowed to call grown-ups by their first name.”

Katie nodded. “Then you may call him Mr. Rust.”

Hannah giggled. “Rust is on my daddy’s car.”

Andy looked down his nose at Katie. “And I went to college for four years for this kind of abuse.”

“It could be worse,” Katie offered.

“How?” he demanded.

She shrugged, unable to suppress a smile. “I dunno. It could be raining.”

Andy glowered at her, set down the plate of cinnamon buns, and moved the hulking Betamax machine from the vendors’ lounge table to the floor. Then he and Katie joined Hannah at the table for a leisurely breakfast.

Hannah scraped a finger full of white glaze from her cinnamon bun, sampling it. “Mmm. Good!” she declared, and concentrated her efforts on unraveling the concoction.

“So where’s Grandma?” Andy asked Katie, and took a bite of his bun.

“Who knows. She took off in her car, leaving Hannah upstairs all alone in her booth. She’s got a lot to answer for.”

Andy glanced at the black circles on the newspaper laid flat before Katie. “Looks like you’ve got a couple of prospects on the home front.”

“It’s too early to call and ask what their pet policies are. I’ll do it later. And I guess I better call a couple of movers for estimates. Man, I really bungled this new-home hunt.”

“You’re running a business. That takes up all your time.”

“You’re being kind.” She watched as Andy took another huge bite of cinnamon bun. A mischievous imp came to life within her. “By the way, a tall, dark, and handsome man called me last night.”

Andy grinned. “Of course. That was me.”

“He called
after
I spoke to you.”

Andy’s grin faltered. “Oh?”

Katie decided not to tease him any further and told him of her conversation with Mark Bastian.

“You aren’t attracted to him, I hope,” Andy said with reproach.

“If I wasn’t so enamored with you, I could be,” Katie
admitted. She sighed wistfully. “He comes with a lot of baggage that I just couldn’t handle. But I think he’s basically a good guy. I hope he can conquer the demons that haunt him. He deserves to be happy.”

“Then you don’t think he had anything to do with Heather’s—” Andy paused and glanced at Hannah, who was coloring the tail on yet another horse picture. “D-E-A-T-H?”

“No.” But unease filled Katie. Jeremy was dead. Surely his death was connected to Heather’s and Barbie’s. But what if it wasn’t? She shook her head, dismissing the notion. She didn’t want to discuss Heather, the note she’d received, or her other suspicions in front of Hannah. It could wait. She’d tell Andy about it over lunch.

Andy drained his cup and slapped it onto the table. “I’ve got a ton of dough to make for tonight’s pizza.” He leaned over and kissed Katie’s lips. She pulled his face closer for a slower, more sensuous kiss.

“Oh, lady, if we were only at my place,” he breathed, and kissed her again.

“If only I had a place nearby,” she answered, and gave him another lingering kiss.

“Yuck!” Hannah squealed and covered her eyes with her hands. “Just like Mommy and Daddy.”

Andy pulled back and smiled. “I predict that one day you’ll like kissing a boy.”

“Not me,” Hannah declared. “Boys are icky.”

“Only until you’re about thirteen,” Katie told her, and glanced askance at Andy. “Then they become… different.”

Andy cocked his head in her direction. “Am I different?”

“The best.”

“And you say it’ll be available next week? That sounds… wonderful.” Katie clenched the phone and grimaced. She couldn’t bear the thought of living in yet another cookie-cutter apartment complex, and it was her own fault for not
finding suitable accommodations sooner. “Yes, I can be there to inspect it tomorrow morning at nine. Thank you.” She hung up the phone.

Katie glanced at the threatening note that poked out of her upper-right desk drawer. She’d procrastinated long enough. It was time to call Detective Davenport.

Hannah appeared at Katie’s side, waving yet another crayon drawing of the little clay horse. “Can we hang this with the others?”

Katie smiled. “Sure.”

Hannah was such a pretty, well-behaved child. That Polly could have abandoned her so readily nearly broke Katie’s heart. And where were the girl’s parents? They probably had no clue how Polly treated the child—and would be horrified to learn she’d left Hannah alone at Artisans Alley.

Katie closed her desk drawer. She attached a piece of tape to the top of the drawing and stuck it to the front of her file cabinet.

Hannah folded her thin arms over her chest, studying her artwork with pride. “One day I’m going to have a
real
 horse. He’ll be just like the Black Stallion and I’ll go for rides and win races and make big money.”

Big money. Hadn’t Barbie Gordon’s granddaughter, Fawn, used the same phrase? Poor little Fawn. No daddy, no grandma, and likely a life of poverty before her. Like Katie, Fawn’s mother, Donna, faced a housing crisis. She needed a place to live and would lose her minimum wage job if she couldn’t find affordable day care. Hannah’s parents probably depended on Polly for day care, too. It was with a pang of regret that Katie realized it was probably better that she and Chad had never had to face that hurdle.

Hannah’s eyes shone with pride as she studied her drawings. Right now she didn’t have a care in the world. No one was sending her threatening notes like the one Katie had received. Mark Bastian had sent her the tape, so it was unlikely to be him trying to intimidate her. For a moment Katie
even considered Detective Davenport as a possible suspect. After all, he was always complaining about her constant interference.

Katie thought back to the other night at Del’s Diner. Barbie Gordon had said that a lunatic had threatened little Fawn. Had she received a similar threatening note? Would Donna know if she had?

“What are you doing in here?” Polly Bremerton thundered and stepped through the office doorway. She yanked Hannah’s arm, turning the girl around and making her cry out. “I told you to stay put upstairs”

“Polly!” Katie scooped up the child. Hannah wrapped her arms around Katie’s neck, burying her face in Katie’s shoulder.

“Stay out of this, Katie. This is family business,” Polly growled.

“I will not stand by while you manhandle this child. There are laws to protect kids.”

Polly’s eyes blazed, but Katie wasn’t sure if it was with anger or terror. She’d had nearly the same reaction the day before when Katie told Polly to make a police report about the missing items from her booth.

Brushing past Polly, Katie set Hannah back down on her feet in the vendors’ lounge. “Why don’t you go sit at the table and color while I talk to your grandmother.”

Hannah seemed to grow smaller as she pulled her arms tightly around her and looked uncertainly from Katie to Polly. Finally, she escaped to the safety of a chair at the big Formica table, farthest away from her grandmother. Had that monstrous woman ever hit the girl?

Katie turned back to Polly. “I brought Hannah down here, Polly. It was irresponsible of you to leave a four-year-old alone in your booth. Anything could have happened. What if she’d pulled a shelf down on her or broken something and gotten cut?”

“Hannah would’ve stayed put if
you
hadn’t interfered.”

“What would her parents think if I told them about this?”

Polly straightened defiantly. “You don’t even know their names.”

“McKinlay Mill is a very small town. If nothing else, I could ask someone from your former church. I’m sure a number of them are Artisans Alley vendors.”

Polly’s eyes bulged, but she didn’t challenge this. “I suppose you’ll use this incident to throw me out. You’ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of me.”

“Until this week, I’ve had no reason to treat you any differently than any of my other vendors. But I am putting you on notice. If you continue to disrupt the harmony here at Artisans Alley, or leave Hannah here unattended, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Polly leaned closer and lowered her voice. “People who cross me are very sorry afterwards. Very sorry indeed.”

Katie didn’t have time to react to Polly’s threat. Donna Gordon suddenly appeared at the office doorway, clutching a bulky black plastic garbage bag.

Noting Katie’s diverted attention, Polly turned, her expression souring. “What’re
you
doing here?”

“It’s a free country,” Donna said with a sneer in her voice.

Bitch,
Polly mouthed, and stalked past the young woman into the vendors’ lounge. Grabbing Hannah’s arm, she yanked the child from the chair.

“My horsey!” Hannah wailed as Polly dragged her toward the door.

Katie’s heart was thumping as she crossed to her office window that overlooked the parking lot. Polly hauled Hannah to the car and forced her inside. She didn’t even belt the girl in before she slammed the door, wrenched open the driver’s door, and got in. She revved the car and took off with gravel flying.

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