Memory Lane Read online

  Kim felt like an eavesdropper, but she couldn’t help it. Camp Oro’s problems interested her. Even though she was nothing more than an alumnus back for a brief time, she felt involved in the town. As more people entered the room, Kim glanced around. She recognized Charles and, beside the police chief, his slight, curly haired wife. Sandy grinned and smiled at Kim. Kim returned the smile, disappointed that there wasn’t room close to the front for Sandy and Charles to sit next to her. Still, having Charles and Sandy in the same room made her feel as if she’d never left Camp Oro.

  A door opened behind the area reserved for council members. Three men and a woman emerged and took their seats behind the horseshoe-shaped table. Then Mark entered the room.

  Kim lost interest in what the two men next to her were saying. Mark was in his environment, a smiling, confident man leaning over the middle-aged councilwoman and eliciting a soft laugh from her. He patted another man on the shoulder and shook hands with Josh Bertrum as the mayor made his way to his chair.

  Mark’s eyes were sweeping the now packed room. He nodded a time or two, but it wasn’t until his eyes found hers that their restless movement ceased. “Hi,” he mouthed.

  Kim wanted to look around to see if anyone had noticed their silent communication, but she needed to keep contact with Mark even more. She wanted to ask him if he’d called her grandmother, and if the police had gone in after the skeleton yet. More than that, she wanted to ask if he would come over to her place later tonight.

  Kim barely noticed when the mayor used his gavel to silence the crowd. The recording secretary read the minutes of the last meeting, but that didn’t hold Kim’s interest. Her mind drifted while some ongoing budget items were discussed. Mark was leaning forward, concentrating on what was being said.

  Someone was making room for himself between Kim and the man to her right. She glanced at him, and then blinked in recognition. Garner Dillon was pressing his hard shoulders against hers, infringing on her space. “Fancy seeing you here.” Garner’s teeth flashed. “Actually I knew you’d be here.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. I saw you walking here. I’ll bet you wouldn’t do that if we were in San Francisco. Not safe, you know.”

  Kim, who was less than relaxed with Garner sitting beside her, only gave him a half smile.

  Garner either didn’t notice or ignored her reaction. “Big excitement. It’s going to be interesting watching the council on the hot seat. I see even Rogan managed to show up.” He nodded to indicate a spot behind him. Kim turned to see the director sitting three rows behind her. Sitting next to him was an extremely attractive, slender, middle-aged woman.

  She turned back toward Garner. “I thought the museum didn’t concern itself with town business.”

  “That’s the public policy. However, it beats TV, and I knew you were going to be here.”

  “Oh.” Kim took a deep breath, picking her next words carefully. “Are you interested in the cave-in?”

  “Why not. I’d like to see whether the council can make up its mind tonight or if it decides to study things to death.”

  The next item on the agenda for the council was a report on the fire department’s need for new tires for one of the two fire trucks. After a ten-minute discussion that centered around the lack of money for repairs or upkeep, the fire chief got his point across that the town really had no option if the fire department was going to stay in operation. Finally the councilwoman moved to appropriate the necessary funds.

  “Money, or the lack of it, is the name of the game around here, isn’t it?” Garner whispered. When he was done speaking, his body remained angled toward Kim’s. His breath was too sweet, his body language possessive.

  Kim shifted away uneasily. The mayor was speaking. The next and only other item on the agenda was a discussion of the damage done to Rich Gulch Street. “We were fortunate the last time,” Josh Bertrum began. “That time it was the post office’s parking lot. We didn’t have to pay for the repairs. Now, not only are we going to have to foot the bills, but there appears to be organized objection to repairing the street. Harden, why don’t you present your proposal.”

  Kim watched a thin, dark-haired man in a three-piece suit make his way to the microphone set up for the audience. “Community pride group,” Garner muttered. “Bunch of busybodies with no idea what they’re doing.”

  So this was the man responsible for the resistance to filling up the hole. Kim leaned forward, concentrating. “What does he do?”

  “Investments, he says. Laundering money if the rumors are to be believed. Tough man. Hates being crossed.”

  Harden Langford’s voice was soft, but the man was articulate. He occasionally referred to his notes as he threw out figures regarding projected increase in tourist trade should the cave-in be developed and billed as a local attraction. His estimate was that it would cost the town slightly less than a thousand dollars to construct a stairway, which would allow visitors into the hole. He’d consulted another engineer who, without having been into the tunnel, had assured the community pride group that there was no danger of the ground giving way as long as vehicles were kept off the road. Charging five dollars per person to go into the hole for a guided tour would significantly increase the town’s revenues.

  Harden stepped to a blackboard where a map of area streets had been drawn. “Traffic can be easily rerouted to California Street. There aren’t any commercial businesses on that block of Rich Gulch. The one house on the south side of the street is so situated that a driveway can be constructed for them on California Street. I’ve already talked to the owner. He’s amenable to the suggestion. I’m talking about a major attraction, Your Honor. A way of putting Camp Oro on the map and relieving its financial problems. We aren’t going to get another opportunity like this again. The whole town will lose out if we don’t take advantage of it.”

  Several council members had questions that Harden answered confidently. If Harden’s figures were to be believed, the town could easily bring in enough additional revenue that there wouldn’t be a need to increase the tax base. Mark reported that the town’s insurance company hadn’t flatly turned down the proposal.

  Kim rose to her feet and waited to be acknowledged. When all eyes were on her, she walked to the map and pointed out where the driveway to her grandmother’s house began. She focused on Charles and Sandy, glad to have friends in the audience. “Mr. Harden is right that the house on the other side of the street isn’t going to be adversely impacted if a new driveway is constructed. However, what he failed to point out is that presently the only way I can get to my house is by walking. And my car is trapped on the wrong side of the cave-in. What happened is an accident, destruction of a street that should be repaired, not exploited.” She waited until she was sure she had everyone’s attention and then continued her plea. “The accident has done more than inconvenience me. My grandmother, who owns the house, wants to sell it. As things stand, she has a worthless piece of property.”

  “Ms. Revis, what do you believe the property is worth?”

  Intent on the point she hoped to make, Kim reacted only slightly to Mark’s question. “I’m not sure. The home was built in the 1940s, and although it has been maintained, there has been no major updating. It sits on two acres.”

  “You say the property is for sale. If it were possible for the town to buy it, then would your concerns be resolved?”

  “Why would the town want to do that?” Kim asked.

  “I’m just trying to make the council aware of its options, Ms. Revis. If your grandmother received fair value for her home, that would leave the town free to use or not use the property as it saw fit. It’s just a possibility. I’m not sure there’s money in the budget for the purchase.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would the town want to buy a house it can’t use? A home is to be lived in, not allowed to decay.”

  “That wasn’t my point. I’ve been looking at the town map. It’s possible to cut a new entrance through
the trees so the house could be reached from the street to the south. Once that, was done, the council could elect to resell the house.”

  Kim hated the thought of cutting down any trees for a road. “It would be much easier to simply fill up the hole and reopen Rich Gulch Street.”

  “Perhaps. I’m speaking as an attorney, Ms. Revis. I would be remiss if I didn’t pursue all options.”

  Mark was right, of course, but Kim didn’t see this as an option. Her grandmother’s house should have someone living in it, not be closed up for however long it took the town to get around to building a long driveway that would alter much of the property’s charm. She’d grown up exploring those woods. She didn’t want that to change. And there was another issue, her car. She couldn’t go without it indefinitely.

  A member of the council asked Kim if she was pushing for a decision tonight. When she didn’t immediately answer, the man pointed out that when they were discussing thousands of dollars, the council had a responsibility to the town to move slowly. Certainly she could use a rental car a little longer.

  “I understand that,” Kim managed. “What do you consider a reasonable amount of time? A week. Two.”

  “Perhaps more,” Mark supplied. “The community pride group’s proposal needs to be carefully considered.”

  “And my situation? Will it be given the same consideration?”

  “Of course. Was there more you wanted to say?”

  Frustrated, Kim could only shake her head and sit down Although Garner praised the way she had handled things Kim barely acknowledged him. She kept looking at Mark waiting for something, anything from him. Mark, however, was telling the council about his exploration of the tunnel with an engineer earlier in the day. The engineer Mark relied on wasn’t as optimistic as the community pride engineer that the tunnel, particularly around the cave-in itself, was structurally sound. From that the discussion turned to estimates from the public works crew as to the cost of filling in the hole and resurfacing the street. The council threw figures back and forth for the better part of an hour but came to no decision.

  “I’m not a betting man,” Garner said as the meeting was breaking up, “but I’ll wager that they’re leaning toward turning this into a carnival act. All they can think about is how much money all those supposed tourists are going to bring in.”

  Kim had to give Garner his due. She agreed that the commercialization of the cave-in sounded like a circus to her, too. “Someone needs to challenge Harden Langford’s statistics. There’s no way he can determine how many people are going to come see a hole in the ground.” She slung her purse over her shoulder. “And if he thinks I’m going to roll over and die, he has another think coming. I’ve just begun to fight.”

  “A fight? Yeah, I guess you’re capable. Just remember something, Kim. Sometimes you get thrown in a ring with someone a hell of a lot bigger than you. If that happens you’d better bail out before it’s too late.”

  Kim shrugged off Garner’s comment. A moment later she was refusing his less-than-subtle invitation to join him at the local tavern for a drink. Garner was backing away when Charles and Sandy joined her. “Welcome back,” Sandy said after the two women finished hugging each other. “There’s nothing like jumping in with both feet, is there?”

  Kim had to agree. “Do you usually come to these meetings?” she asked Sandy.

  “Not too often. It’s too hard to find someone who’ll keep an eye on the boys. Look, I’ve got to get back to them, but we have to get together while you’re in town. The stories I could tell you about that bunch we ran around with— Why don’t I call you tomorrow?”

  Kim nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

  A minute later Kim was drinking in deep breaths of cool night air. People were gathered outside the meeting hall talking, but Kim wasn’t interested in attempting to join any of the conversations. It hadn’t taken her long to gain an understanding of small-town politics. Unless she knew which side of the fence people were on, she was well-advised to keep her opinions to herself. And she didn’t think it would do any good to wait for Mark. The last she’d seen of him, he was surrounded.

  Camp Oro was different by night. With cars and shoppers gone, Kim was able to bridge the gap between the present and the gold rush days. Replicas of gaslights cast gentle shadows over the buildings. Kim’s shoes made no sound as she wandered aimlessly down the sidewalk looking in the windows. She stopped at a shop featuring gold jewelry that had been vacant all the time she was growing up. As soon as she saw the window display of a miner crouched over a stream, she lost all thoughts of what she’d been doing a few minutes ago.

  Her grandmother had been born and raised in Camp Oro. A seventeen-year-old beauty with love in her heart and dreams of a life with her older, successful husband must have looked in a shop like this one. Maybe Kim’s grandfather had come into a Camp Oro store to buy a wedding ring for his bride. Although Grandmother had never said, Kim imagined her grandfather was a romantic with dreams of being able to provide for his cherished bride. Maybe one night years ago he and Grandmother had walked down these night-quiet streets planning their future.

  Their dream life together had begun well. Yes, Grandmother had borne her children when she was very young, but at least there’d been no money worries. Grandmother had been able to dress her babies in the finest clothes and set her table with fine china. Certainly she’d worried about childhood illnesses and perhaps chafed at the restrictions caused by three small children, but she’d been loved.

  Lost in her thoughts, Kim was unaware of the man following her. Despite the crowd, he’d taken note of Kim’s leaving. Now he was aware of her aimless steps. He heard her soft sigh.

  The sound tore through him.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Life, at least the life he’d managed to create for himself, was supposed to be painted in blacks and whites. Some people he allowed to get close to him. Others he didn’t. And now a certain woman had come into his life, and because she belonged amid uncertain shades of gray, he didn’t know how to deal with her. The town’s texture was different simply because Kim was in it.

  “Kim? Are you all right?”

  Kim wasn’t startled. She turned slowly, gathering her thoughts. Her grandfather must have been a man like Mark. Both men knew what they wanted out of life and how to go about accomplishing those goals. “I was thinking.”

  “About the meeting?”

  “No. When I think about how long this town has bees here—” Kim wrapped her arms around her waist and looked up at Mark. “Where do you stand?”

  “Stand? It isn’t my role to take sides.”

  “I guess not.”

  “I’d like to know what you’re thinking.”

  “Thinking? So much has happened lately.” Mark had removed his tie; his jacket was thrown over his shoulder. He looked, like she felt: like a person without past or future.

  “You were sitting with Garner.”

  “Garner? He said he watched me walk to the meeting. I had no idea—Mark?” Kim was still looking up at Mark. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Do you think it would be to Camp Oro’s benefit to let the town buy the house?”

  “What do you think?”

  If any other lawyer had asked the question, Kim would have applauded his tactics and given him a practical answer. But even if he didn’t agree with her, Kim wanted Mark to understand the forces at work inside her. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about, about what created this town, the continuity between past and present. A sense of dignity. Mark, there’s a lot of life left in my grandmother’s house. If the town happens to have the money to buy it, how long would it take for that other road to be built? Would the project be put on the back burner?”

  “It’s a possibility. If you’re afraid that’s going to happen, fight for what you believe.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  Mark backed away until he was leaning against a brick wall. “I’m not going to give you legal advice, Kim. But
if you believe in something, you should fight for it. Life isn’t worth much if we don’t have passion for it.”

  Mark’s words were undoing her. Kim could handle a cool, logical attorney discussing facts and dismissing emotion. But the attorney was gone now; only the man remained. “Garner said something,” she managed. “This—what the community pride people are proposing—could turn Camp Oro into a circus.”

  “It could.”

  “I’m not going to be a party to that, Mark. Maybe I’ll lose the fight, but at least I am going to fight.”

  “You can’t fight if you aren’t here, Kim.”

  “I know.” At sixteen, Kim had moved to San Francisco with her father and new stepmother. She’d absorbed the magic of the city by the bay. Encouraged by her stepmother’s commitment to her own career, Kim had looked inside herself until she knew what she wanted in the way of a career. Until tonight she’d believed herself happy.

  “When you came, I was thinking about my grandmother as a young woman. My grandfather bought her a gold band when they got married. Mark, she had to sell that ring in order to feed her children. He—there wasn’t a will and when he died, everything got tangled up in the courts. I don’t know what I’m saying,” Kim groaned. “I guess—I’m thinking about all the things we don’t have control over, the way life carries us along. Tonight—” Kim let her arms drop to her sides. “I just want to think about what’s good in life.”

  “What’s good in your life, Kim?”

  The threads of logic that held Kim together unraveled. She was nothing except a woman standing on a deserted street with a man who asked impossible questions and waited for impossible answers. You, she almost told him. You’re one of the good things in my life. “This town. The pride I feel here. The sense of peace. Doing a job I’m proud of. Being healthy.”

  “You didn’t mention a man.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “Is there a man in your life, Kim?”

  “No.”

  Why had he asked her that? But even as he asked the question, Mark knew what the answer was. He could come to regret this. In a sense he already did. But just as she was living in the moment, so was he. Tonight they could touch. Tomorrow he would deal with the consequences.