Chapter Eighteen

At nine o’clock that night, Kate called Livvy.

One of the Jenner boys answered, then yelled for his mom. There was a scuffling in the background, a faint sound of music, and snatches of conversation and laughter interspersed with a smattering of guffaws only a teen of the male variety could make. Kate knew that firsthand. Memories flew into her heart, and she swallowed a sting at the top of her throat.

“Hi, Kate,” Livvy said a few minutes later.

“Hey, Watson,” Kate said. “I’ve got a job for you. I got so caught up in the vigil plans, I forgot to ask.”

“What’s that?”

Kate told her about the baseball cap with the pirate logo. “Does that sound like anything you’ve seen?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Livvy said. “But it might be a school logo. Maybe a high school. I’ll do a search tomorrow and let you know if anything comes up.”

“Thanks, Liv.”

“Anytime, Sherlock.”

Kate hesitated before saying good-bye. “I probably don’t need to say this, but enjoy every minute your kids are home. Time passes too quickly. And before you know it, the ruckus turns to silence.”

“I know what you mean, but some days I can’t wait.” She laughed. “I know it’ll hit me when they’re finally gone, but I can’t help singing ‘Bye Bye, Birdie’ from time to time in anticipation.”

The decibel level rose in the background, and Livvy said she had to go.

Kate hung up the phone and thought about Andrew, Rebecca, and Melissa. It seemed like just yesterday that her home was filled with laughter, music, and teenage tempers.

“I miss our kids,” she said to Paul a few minutes later.

He was in bed, reading, and looked up when she spoke. “I do too.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed to brush her hair. “Life changes can be difficult.”

“And you’ve had a lot recently.”

She smiled. “And you haven’t?”

He laughed lightly. “I didn’t mean that I haven’t. But the empty-nest syndrome is real, and so is homesickness when you’ve been uprooted from the only town you’ve ever known. So is coming into a new situation where you’ve got to work to be accepted, to make new friends. So is not having a career outside the home for the first time in years. I’d say on the scale of life changes, you’re off the charts.”

She laughed. “Actually, I was only thinking about the empty nest, but now that you mention all the rest...” She paused. “I just talked to Livvy, heard her kids in the background, and suddenly missed ours more than I can say.”

“You could call them.”

She checked the clock. “It’s too late. I’ll call in the morning.”

“I know this is hard for you, Kate.”

“It’s getting easier,” she said, hoping to relieve his worries. “Every day, a little easier.”

She crawled into bed, wishing it were true.

ON SATURDAY, Kate decided it would be a good time to take down the wood paneling in the living room. The idea had come to her as she was finishing her Bible reading. The psalm for the day was the twenty-third, which brought to mind the sheep on the slider, which brought to mind the redecorating she wanted to do before Christmas. Though she had to admit she was starting to like the little flock of sheep. If she ever did decide to replace the sliders with French doors, she would miss them.

By the time Paul left to meet Pastor Bobby of the First Baptist Church, Father Lucas of St. Lucy’s, and Pastor Pete of Copper Creek Presbyterian for their coffee get-together, Kate had already finished one wall.

Kate climbed up and down the ladder with her crowbar in hand, surprised at how fast the process was going. Each piece of four-by-eight-foot paneling was too big to handle by herself, so she let it drop to the floor for Paul to help her take out to the garage later.

The bare walls were worse than she had expected. Big splotches of black mastic had been smeared here and there, apparently as an adhesive. It had crystallized over the years and now was as hard as obsidian. She had hoped to start painting the walls in the afternoon, but the mastic would need sanding down first.

What she thought was a one- or two-day job was turning into something that would take a week to complete, probably with Paul working alongside her.

She was at the top of the ladder when the phone rang. For an instant she remained poised, midair, before deciding to run for the phone.

She got to the kitchen by the fourth ring and snatched up the receiver before it went to the answering machine.

“Kate?” said the voice.

She frowned, trying to place it.

“I was wondering if you could babysit today. Plus, I have some things I need to talk to you about.”

Renee. She looked around in dismay. The little dog could get hurt with all the splintered wood and exposed nails.

“I need a massage,” Renee said. “And little snookims can’t go, bless his heart.”

“I’ve got quite a mess around here,” Kate said. “I’m taking down the paneling and...”

“Oh, that’s quite all right,” Renee said. “Kisses won’t mind at all.”

Kate sighed. “Okay. Bring him by.”

Renee rang the doorbell five minutes later, Kisses in her arms. Renee was dressed in her usual designer warm-up suit and gold lamé tennis shoes. Not a bleached-blond hair was out of place.

At first glance, she looked the picture of health, but beneath the makeup—heavy foundation and bright blush—she looked tired. And no amount of concealer could hide the dark circles under her eyes.

“Would you like to come in for a few minutes?”

“Well, yes, I was expecting to.”

“How about some tea? I just bought some fresh loose-leaf Earl Grey. Imported from England.”

Renee put Kisses down. “Oh, I never drink Earl Grey loose. It leaves sediment in the cup. I must use a tea bag. Silk, if possible. And—”

“Three lumps of natural sugar. I remember. And half-and-half.”

Without waiting for an invitation, Renee barged into the living room. “Oh dear. I see what you mean. You are in a bit of a mess.”

Kate went into the kitchen to put the teakettle on. She fished around in the cupboard until she found the familiar red and yellow box of tea bags, pulled one out, and dropped it into a cup.

By the time the teakettle whistled, Renee had marched into the kitchen and taken a place at the table. Kate poured them each a cup of tea and set them on the table with the sugar bowl.

Renee stirred in her three lumps. “I have some ideas for the vigil and thought you should know about them.”

“As I mentioned before, it’s going to be a long, cold night. And possibly dangerous.”

Renee pulled a pink calendar book from her handbag, flipped the pages to the current date, then pulled out a matching pen. “We’ll need food,” she said. “Something warm, like soup in thermoses. I’ll be in charge of that.”

Kate nodded, smiling. “That would be very nice.”

“And sandwiches. Can you make those?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“I’ll contact the others about what they can bring.”

Alarmed, Kate sat forward. “What others?”

“I have a list of phone numbers. People who will be glad to help us out. Safety in numbers, I always say.”

“Have you called anyone?”

She smiled. “I thought we would divide the list so one person doesn’t have to do it all.”

It was sounding more like a church picnic than a vigil.

“Renee, this is dangerous, too dangerous to invite anyone else. We’re going to do this alone.” She paused, sorry for the disappointment on Renee’s face. “The other thing is that we don’t want the thieves to know what we’re doing.”

Renee nodded. “I just thought we’d maybe need some backup when we confront the perps.”

“We’re not going to confront them—just find out who they are so we can call the authorities.”

She brightened. “I happen to know I’m the only one with a cell phone. You need me! In fact, you can’t do this without me.” Her tone was triumphant. “And I’ll bring my camera. We’ll catch them red-handed.”

“It’s got a flash?”

She nodded.

“Then we can’t use it.”

Renee seemed to study the situation for a moment. She took a sip of tea, shuddered, and said, “I think we’re good enough friends that I can tell you this is the worst cup of tea I’ve ever had.”

PAUL CAME IN THE DOOR just as Kate pulled off another sheet of paneling. Kisses woke from where he was sleeping by the fireplace and growled as Paul walked into the room.

He grinned. “I see we’re babysitting little umpkins again.”

Kate climbed back down the ladder. “It’s my destiny. How was the coffee hour?”

“The guys are great. We discussed everything from politics to theology, the NFL to deep-sea fishing.” He chuckled. “We certainly don’t agree on everything, but our discussion was spirited and accepting of the other points of view.”

They went into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “You won’t believe what they’ve got planned for the pumpkin festival. They’ve asked their congregations to donate items or services for our auction.”

“Oh, Paul. That’s wonderful.”

“There’s more. They wanted to give their congregations examples of creative thinking.

“Father Lucas, the Episcopalian priest, is a private pilot and has his own plane. He’s donating free plane rides for the auction, as many as we want. And Pastor Pete, the Presbyterian minister, says he knows where all the best fishing holes are in the area. People have been after him for years to reveal where they are. His auction contribution is to sell his top-ten secret spots. Not only that, he’s also donating his time as a guide for the winner.

“And listen to this one: Pastor Bobby of the Baptist church told us his wife writes and illustrates children’s picture books. She’s working on her second book right now. She came up with a brilliant idea—auctioning off the chance to pick a pet, and its name, as a sidekick for her main character. Dog, cat, pot-bellied pig, or hamster—he said it doesn’t matter. She’ll work it into the story.”

“I’m overwhelmed,” Kate said. “Not just their creativity, which is incredible. But love in action...”

“Preach Christ, and if you must, use words,” he quoted. He hesitated for a moment as if mulling something over, then he said, “There’s still more.”

“I can’t imagine it getting any better than this.”

“I made a decision as I was driving home.”

“It sounds momentous.”

“It is. I’ve decided to donate the Lexus to the auction.”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears, and she reached for his hand.