Memory Lane Page 10

  “No,” Mark answered quickly. “Look, there’re going to be reporters there tonight. If word of this gets out, we’re going to have a hell of a time keeping people out.”

  “But—” Kim began. She was interrupted before she could voice a protest.

  “I’m reporting it to the police, Kim. They’re the only ones who need to know.” Mark’s voice was lifeless. “I know what my duty is.”

  Kim stepped back and then forced herself to stop. She might be drawn to Mark. That didn’t mean she was foolish enough to ignore the warning bell going off inside her. Until today she’d thought of Mark as an honest, straightforward man. Now a darker side was emerging. Until she better understood that side, she would be ruled with her head and not her heart. “I’m sure you do. I wasn’t questioning your ethics.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. But something’s bothering you.”

  “Bothering? Maybe so. The way you’re acting—”

  “How am I acting? Kim, I asked you not to go down there.”

  That was it? Mark’s concern for her was the answer to his mood? “I’m sorry,” she told him. “But I was letting the cave-in do a number on me. I had to conquer it. Can you understand that?”

  “You were afraid of it?”

  “Don’t laugh at me. Please.”

  A cautious man would let Kim go to her house alone, but this afternoon Mark didn’t want to be a cautious man. He decided to take the conversation in a safe direction. “I’ve been talking to Charles,” Mark told her. “He said he was going to try to use some of his connections to help you go ahead with your work at the museum. I may be able to help, too. There are two, maybe three local firms that might be able to provide the electronics you’re likely to need. I’m sorry. I meant to bring the list with me.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know.”

  A sane woman wouldn’t have anything to do with this moody man. But right now Kim didn’t feel like being sane.

  “I don’t have much to do here,” Kim told him. “I could follow you back to your office.”

  “You don’t have anything else to do today?”

  Kim explained about the meeting she’d set up with the security guard. “It’s not until 4:00 p.m.”

  “Who else is going to be there?”

  “Who? No one.”

  “I don’t like that.”

  Kim wanted to brush aside Mark’s concern. All she wanted was to concentrate on going to his office. Being with him. “He’s all right, Mark. A little strange maybe, but nothing I can’t handle.”

  “You don’t know that. Charles said something. Both of you think the thefts are an inside job, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know what I think at the moment, Mark. I don’t believe in jumping to conclusions.”

  “But what you’ve learned points in that direction, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Kim had to admit.

  “That’s what I thought. Watch yourself around William. Do that for me, will you?”

  There was only one answer Kim could give Mark.

  An hour later Kim had dropped off her groceries, changed her clothes and was sitting in Mark’s office while he conferred with his secretary. He hadn’t said anything more about the security guard and neither had she. It hadn’t been necessary.

  She was more than a little impressed with his office. It was located in a new building less than a block from the new courthouse. He shared the building with several other attorneys but wasn’t in partnership with any of them. Two walls of his office were taken up with cabinets containing files while a bookcase on another wall contained an impressive array of legal manuals. His desk was a beautifully restored antique so large she didn’t know how they’d gotten it through the door. In contrast, his telephone system was the most technologically advanced available. A stereo played softly in the background.

  Kim had no intention of intruding on attorney/client confidentiality. She was only wondering if the list he was going to give her might be in sight when she glanced at his desk. He’d been working on several files; the folders took up most of the available space. Several loose pieces of paper lay on top of the folders. A message on yellow notepaper caught her attention. Margaret Revis had called a couple of hours ago and wanted Mark to return her call.

  “I’m sorry you had to wait,” Mark said as he entered his office. “I’m due in court tomorrow. Nervous clients. They’ve already called my secretary three times.”

  He was the consummate lawyer again. While she ran up to the house, Mark had turned in his overalls. He was in his environment, professionally dressed, in control. The man who’d made her rethink everything she’d believed about herself an hour ago no longer existed or, if he did, Attorney Mark Stockton had placed that man behind bars.

  “Do you have to do much hand-holding?” Kim sank into a chair and folded her hands in her lap. He was calm. She could be the same—at least she could pretend.

  “A lot. Actually—” Mark glanced at his desk, shrugged and turned back to Kim. “I’d rather have nervous clients. They’re the ones who are thinking. If you ever find yourself up against the legal system, don’t let your lawyer do your thinking for you.”

  Kim found it easy to laugh. “I have no intention of being on either side of the legal system. But if I do, I’ll hire you.”

  “You haven’t seen me in court. Maybe you wouldn’t want me.”

  She’d been wrong; Mark wasn’t enough of an attorney for her to forget what else he was. She stared at her hands and watched her knuckles turn white. The room filled with Mark; he became the air she breathed. “You—my grandmother called you.”

  Mark glanced at his desk and then picked up the message from Margaret Revis. “She says I’m never in my office.”

  “Are you going to call her?”

  “Later.” Mark dropped the piece of paper and rummaged around until he found a sheet of legal sized paper and handed it to Kim. “Three companies. The first two I know. Their reputations are first class. I don’t know much about the third one, but Judge Winters had them do some work for him, and he swears by them. I hope this’ll help.”

  Kim took the offered paper, folded it and placed it in her purse. “It will. Thank you. You didn’t have to go to that much trouble.”

  “I wanted to. Kim, maybe I have no right asking. Alright, I have no right asking, but I’m going to anyway.”

  Kim waited; her heart wanted his question to be personal; her mind knew otherwise.

  “I don’t want you going down in the cave-in anymore. I’d like to have your word on that.”

  He cares about my safety, Kim thought. This is more than concern for the town’s liability. “I won’t. I can’t imagine ever wanting to,” she was able to tell him honestly. The moment of intimacy built and Kim acted on it. “I wasn’t going to. I didn’t mean to sneak behind your back, but Mark—I’m going to sound crazy if I say this.”

  Mark stood and started around his desk. “Say it.”

  He was standing over her now, his presence both comforting and challenging. Kim wanted him to understand some of the forces that motivated her. “I take pride in who I am. Maybe it sounds conceited, but I don’t believe there are many things I can’t accomplish if I put my mind to it. When I saw that hole—I was afraid of it. I said that already, didn’t I?”

  Mark took her hands. The gesture was comforting and a great deal more. “What were you afraid of?”

  “I don’t know.” Kim tried to laugh, but the sound didn’t come out the way she’d wanted it to. “I think that’s why I did what I did. I didn’t know what I was afraid of, and that made me mad. It—” She looked at her hands. They were safely in Mark’s; at this moment, everything about her felt safe. “Every time I looked at that damn hole I felt as if it was mocking me. It knew I was afraid.”

  “It’s just a hole, Kim.”

  “I know that. Now. I told you I’d sound crazy. I just knew I couldn’t let that thing get the best of me.”
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  Mark nodded. He leaned forward, but the kiss she was waiting for wasn’t forthcoming. Instead he brushed his lips against her forehead and then retreated. “I’ll remember that about you. You aren’t a woman to back down from anything.”

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Kim. I understand.”

  Museum guard William Lynch was drinking coffee in the staff meeting room when Kim found him that afternoon.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” Kim explained in what she hoped was a friendly tone. “You’re a hard man to find.’

  William turned slowly from his study of his coffee to look at her. Every move he made seemed slow. “I’m not hiding.”

  “I know you aren’t. It’s just a figure of speech.” Although she and William were the only ones in the room, the air felt close and tight. Kim sat down near William, taking note of the ring of drying coffee staining the table. She hadn’t forgotten Mark’s warning but discounted it because she knew there were others in the building. “I’d like to talk about yesterday.”

  “What about yesterday?” William licked his finger and tried to rub away the dried coffee. The effort took the better part of a minute.

  “Rogan, Garner and Anthea did a lot of talking. You didn’t have much to say.”

  “There wasn’t nothin’ to say. Nothin’ anyone wanted to hear.”

  “I don’t agree, William.” Mark had leaned toward her and made communication possible. Maybe the same gesture would work with the drawn-looking guard. “You’re the one who’s down in the trenches. Garner might be able to talk about finances, but you know the museum’s vulnerable and strong points.”

  “No one wants my opinion.”

  “I do.”

  Kim waited. She could tell that William was thinking things over. To say more now might divert him from his thoughts. Finally he gave up his attack on the coffee stain. “Do you know what this makes me look like? Things are going out of this place under my nose. I do my job, Ms. Revis. Damn it, I try. But no one believes me.”

  “You’re being asked to do the impossible.” When William blinked, Kim went on. “This place is huge. It’s full of artifacts worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. We’d all like to believe that people are honest, that their only reasons for coming here are to look at what’s being displayed. But that isn’t reality.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I know,” Kim agreed. “There’s only so much one person can do in a building with an almost nonexistent security system.”

  “Yeah? Then why is everyone blaming me?”

  “Is that what you think?” Kim asked. She wanted to get down to the specifics of the building’s vulnerability, but until she and William were working together, that would be impossible.

  “That’s what everyone thinks. Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because that kind of thinking will only defeat us.” Kim put her emphasis on the last word. She waited a moment and then went on. “We can’t help what happened yesterday or last week. The only thing we can deal with is today and try to prevent another theft tomorrow. That’s what I need you for.”

  William leaned back in his chair. His thin body seemed barely strong enough to complete the movement. His eyes were small and placed close together but capable of probing. Capable of judging. “You want us to work together?”

  “Yes. I need you.”

  “Only one person needs me, Ms. Revis. And that one ain’t you.” William was on his feet before Kim knew it was going to happen. “Let me tell you something. You go talk to Garner Dillon and that man who calls himself a director. Ask them what they pay me? Barely a cent over minimum wage. Ms. Revis, I’m sixty-three years old. I’ve been working hard all my life. I used to make damn good money, but now that I’m old and stuck in this town, I’m being taken advantage of. I’m not here because I want to be. I’m working because I don’t have a choice. Loyalty?” Spittle formed at the corners of William’s mouth. His face reddened. “I’m the wrong person to talk about loyalty to.”

  Kim was on her feet, too. She’d reached deep down inside for courage already once today. She could do it again. “Maybe not,” she acknowledged. “If what you say is true, you are being taken advantage of.”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it, Ms. Revis. I’ve talked until I’m blue in the face. The cops around here, they laugh at me. I tried to get the training. No money, they kept telling me. No money. I’m not going to beg for a raise, and I’m sure as hell not going to bail out this damn museum. You think I should be fired, go head, get me fired.”

  “I can’t.” Kim was standing toe-to-toe with the man. He loomed over her, but he was so slight that she didn’t feel threatened. “It’s not my job to hire or fire even if I wanted to. And I don’t,” she emphasized. “What I want is your help.”

  “Listen.” William rocked back on his heels and then leaned forward again. “I’ve got all I can do to hold body and soul together and take care of my brother. There isn’t enough of me left to string up booby traps or whatever you’re thinking of putting in here.”

  Kim allowed herself to be sidetracked. “What about your brother?”

  “Nothing. None of your business.” William started toward the door.

  Kim stopped him. His forearm was bony, but surprisingly strong. “I don’t agree, Mr. Lynch. You’re angry and frustrated. It’s not good to hold all that inside you.”

  “What do you know?” William pulled free. “Let me tell you something, Ms. Revis. You and this museum and those people looking down their noses at me, can all go to hell.”

  Kim had stopped reacting emotionally to the argument with William by the time she walked into her grandmother’s house. The radio in the kitchen cut through the echo of William’s angry voice but couldn’t stop thoughts of what Kim had found out after the guard left. From the volunteer at the front desk, Kim had learned that William lived with his older brother. Toby Lynch was a step away from needing a nursing home, but William, through love or loyalty or some other motive, refused to give up responsibility for his care. William said little about his life beyond work, but the volunteer had a friend who worked in the local doctor’s office where Toby went for treatment. It was so sad, the volunteer said. Those two old men living together with no one to help them and medical bills that wouldn’t quit. Kim kicked off her shoes and headed for the kitchen. The telephone rang.

  “Honey, I’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon. I called the museum, but they didn’t know where you were.” Margaret Revis sounded concerned.

  Kim shook her head at the incompetence of whoever hadn’t gotten the message to her, but didn’t bother her grandmother with the details. “I was going to call you. So much has been happening.”

  “I’m sure it has. Kim, how is it going?”

  “How?” Kim laughed, hoping her grandmother couldn’t hear the strain she was feeling. “Let’s just say it’s been a three-ring circus.”

  “Were you at the museum today?”

  Kim thought that a rather strange question, but answered anyway. “I got to see Mark’s office. It looks as if you’ve chosen a successful attorney. What did you want to talk to him about?”

  “What?”

  Kim wished she could have taken the words back. Margaret’s business with her attorney was none of her concern. Still, now that she’d started, she had to finish. Briefly she explained about noticing the telephone message while she’d been waiting for Mark.

  “That man is so hard to get a hold of. I certainly hope you don’t have to spend much time at the museum.”

  “It’s my job, Grandmother.” Kim sat down and reached for her aching instep. Something about this conversation wasn’t right; she just wished she could put her finger on what it was.

  “It’s so stuffy in there. So much junk piling up everywhere.”

  “Artifacts. Antiques,” Kim laughed. “At least have the good grace to call them by their proper names.”

  “But you don’t have to wade through all that
stuff, do you?”

  “No. Of course not. Maybe, if I have time—”

  “Don’t bother,” Margaret interrupted. “It’d just bore you.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you. I met a volunteer who said you used to practically live there.”

  “Used to,” Margaret repeated. “I can’t be bothered anymore. I just… Well…I’d much rather have you out among people. What about dinner, dear? I’d love to see you.”

  Because she sensed something close to desperation in her grandmother’s voice, Kim told her grandmother about the meeting tonight and promised to come see her tomorrow.

  Kim elected to walk to the historic building where council meetings were held. After the emotional ups and downs of the day, she was hungry for any kind of physical activity. She was glad for a few minutes alone, watching the sun set around the now empty streets. She wanted to find a sense of peace. Unfortunately it didn’t come.

  The long, narrow building was rapidly filling with people. Although she would have preferred the anonymity of sitting in the back of the room, it was important that she sit where she could hear and participate. Next to her a couple of men were talking about yet another break in the town’s ancient water system. “There’s no way around it,” one of them was saying. “They’re going to have to raise the tax base. Either that or the town’s going to fall apart.”

  “It’ll never pass. People’ll scream bloody murder. Taxes are high enough as they are.”

  “Not compared to other communities this size,” the first replied. “I’ve seen this list from the council of governments—”

  “I’ve seen it, too,” the second man interrupted. “You know what happened the last time the council tried to raise the tax base. They just about got thrown out of office. No one’s going to try that again very soon.”

  “You know what the problem is, don’t you? People here, they think they can support the town on the money tourists bring in. It isn’t working.”