Chapter 12

12

T he day after the vomit-fest, Iris marched the boys into the historic Town Hall building that housed multiple Sutter's Hollow city worker's offices—including her father's.

It was just after lunch, and Levi and Brandt walked solemnly down the linoleum floors in the wide hallway until they realized their boots made a wonderful clatter that echoed through the building. Then they set up a stomping, whirling dance until she had to scold them. Thankfully, the building was nearly empty right now. She'd heard through the rumor mill that several folks had taken vacations to get away from the construction noise as a crew worked to repair the front of the damaged building.

The A/C blew enough cold air that she felt it every time she passed beneath a vent, goosebumps skittering up her bare arms.

The boys' crazy dance had her thinking wild thoughts. Like maybe they'd benefit from a ballet class. When she'd been a child, the combo of music and movement had given her an outlet for her restless energy. Most of the time it was just her and Brandt and Levi at home. If she pushed the furniture back from the center of the room, there'd be plenty of space for the boys to wiggle and move.

Could she teach them? That was the real question.

She hadn't told Callum where she was going. When she'd left, he'd been laid out fully-clothed on his bed, no doubt catching up on rest after the crazy day and late night they'd had yesterday. Recovering from surgery was exhausting enough without all the activity of the previous day.

The boys had bounced back with no apparent ill effects, as energetic at seven a.m. as they had been yesterday before they'd gotten sick.

And Iris was out of patience. Dad hadn't answered any of her phone calls this morning.

Crossing into the mayor's outer office was like entering another world. Wood paneling stretched across the floor, and bold colors covered the walls.

Dad's secretary stood from behind her desk, eyes widening as Iris marched in.

"Hi, Helen. I heard the mayor had a few minutes on his docket. I need to talk to him."

She set the boys on the couch in the waiting area, eyeing the nearby end tables stacked with knick-knacks, which were probably expensive.

"I need you to sit here and behave." She infused as much firmness in her voice as she could, even pointing a finger at them.

Brandt's legs kicked the air—his feet didn't touch the floor—while Levi wore an angelic expression that Iris didn't buy for one second.

"If you sit quietly and don't get up and don't cause trouble for Miss Helen, we'll stop and get ice cream on the way home."

Both sets of eyes grew large in their adorable, tiny faces.

Maybe it was wrong to bribe them, but Iris only needed a short time with her father.

Nearing his door, she looked over her shoulder. The boys watched her.

She had no idea if her bribe would work, but she could trust Helen to keep them from getting into too much trouble.

She straightened her shoulders and knocked softly before pushing open the door to her father's sanctuary. That's how she always thought of it. After her mother had passed, he'd spent more hours here than at home.

"Hi, Dad."

"Iris." He stood and rounded his desk to meet her. His office was an organized mess, piled with stacks of papers and files. It smelled like his cologne. A huge window overlooked Main Street. Her father would have had a bird's eye view of the accident when it happened, if he'd been in his office.

When he reached her, he held her hands in his, but they didn't hug. They never did.

"You look exhausted."

She frowned. Her father never minced words.

"I was up late with Jilly. She had an upset stomach."

Lines around his eyes tightened. "Send her my love." She knew it had to be hard for him to be around Jilly after losing his wife to the same disease, but Jilly needed him. Couldn't he see that?

He'd distanced himself from them for years, but it still hurt.

Iris straightened her back. "I came here to ask you about the lawsuit against Callum."

Instantly, her father's eyes went flat and cold. Her dad had never liked Callum when they'd been friends in high school. It didn't seem as if anything had changed.

"That dirtbag sent you down here?"

She wondered if her father knew how his lip curled in disgust as he said the words.

She kept her expression neutral. "Actually, he told me to stay out of it."

Surprise flashed in his eyes, but when he blinked, it disappeared. "Good. Then we agree on something." He moved around his desk and fiddled with a manila folder on top, adjusting it to align with the edge.

"I don't understand why you're bringing a suit against him."

"His negligence caused the wreck that took out the front of my building. Somebody has to pay for the damage."

"How about the person who actually caused the damage? Callum wasn't negligent—he had the right of way."

Something behind her father's gaze flickered. Was he hiding something? "Is that what he told you?"

"That's what I saw. I was there, remember?" She'd told him so, on the phone.

Now her father met her gaze squarely. "There was no witness testimony in the report I read."

She read the truth of his words in his face. "Well, I guess I need to go downstairs and make a formal report."

Just then there was audible movement from the outer office. The boys.

She rushed out to find Brandt and Levi chasing each other in a circle around the office while Helen told them repeatedly to stop.

"Stop!" Iris had a flashback to her mom using the exact same tone of voice throughout her childhood, but she kept her face stoic as the boys froze in place.

"He's saddling you with his brats now?"

Iris shot a scathing glance over her shoulder, hoping the boys hadn't heard her father's mean-spirited words.

"I'll see you later," she said.

He didn't answer. She gave the boys an evil eye, and they fell into step beside her, subdued.

"Do you think that you deserve ice cream after that?" she asked.

The boys looked down at the floor.

"I'll give you one more chance. I've got to visit a policeman, and if you can sit quietly, without running around and causing disruptions, we'll still go to get ice cream."

Levi gasped.

"Are we goin' to jail?" Brandt asked in a stage whisper.

"No." She couldn't contain the giggle behind her words. "I just have to talk to the policeman, all right?"

Since the front of the building was blocked because of the wreck and the repairs, she took the boys down a side hallway, and they traipsed to the portion of the building that had been set aside for the four police officers and the police chief, her dad's closest friend.

It smelled a little like a gym, stale sweat with an overtone of burned coffee and a hint of gunpowder. There were high windows along one wall, sunlight streaming in. It was sterile, no stacks of paperwork here. Two glass-enclosed offices made up one wall, but the rest of the space was filled with cubicles.

Only one was in use. She found Mike Reynolds just hanging up his desk phone. At least he had paperwork strewn across his desk, half-finished reports.

"Oh, hi, Iris."

Was it her imagination, or had his eyes slid to one side as he'd greeted her? Was she reading too much into it, or could that have been her father on the line, letting Mike know she was on her way down to see him?

"What can I do for you?"

"I need to file a statement for the Stewart investigation. I was leaving Trixie's, and I saw the red truck run the stoplight and crash into Callum's truck."

"D'you got a gun, mister?" Levi said, awe in his voice.

Brandt tugged on his pant leg on the opposite side from where his brother stood. "Do you shoot the bad guys?"

"Um, no, I try not to shoot anybody."

Mike was a year older and had been a grade ahead of her in school. He was married with no children, and seeing the usually-unflappable man flustered by the twins had her hiding a smile behind her hand.

Until he looked at her again, and she saw the seriousness—and something else she couldn't read—behind his gaze.

"Boys, can you sit down while I talk to Officer Mike?"

The boys whispered to each other as they sat with legs crisscrossed on the floor just inside the cubicle.

"I'll take your statement, but..."

She'd known Mike since they'd been children. And for him to hedge wasn't normal behavior. Something was wrong here.

"But, what?"

"If you're involved with the victim, that makes it different. You aren't a neutral party."

What did that mean?

"I wasn't involved with him when the accident happened. And technically we're not involved now. I'm just helping a friend until he can get back on his feet."

He shrugged, almost apologetically.

She gritted her teeth. Maybe she hadn't been imagining her father's interference. The question was, why ? Why would her father strong-arm his police department to turn a blind eye to the real culprit?

And would a botched investigation affect Callum's insurance claim? Could it affect his standing in the community?

"Will you take my statement or not?" she asked, aware of little ears listening intently to their conversation.

"Of course I'll take it. I just don't know how much weight it'll give to the investigation."

She hitched her chin. "Then maybe I should make a statement to the district attorney instead."

Mike's jaw worked, and his eyes snapped, but beneath, she saw an undercurrent of something undeterminable. "I said I would take your statement."

"Then let's do it."

Iris was still fuming as she led the boys the long way around the building—again—back to the parking lot. Keeping them on task and not chasing butterflies and picking up rocks in the parking lot took all her attention.

What was her father's angle? Why would he jeopardize an investigation? It was deeper than recouping the costs for the building, maybe as deep as whatever history was between her father and Callum.

She'd snapped the last seatbelt buckle and was rounding the back of the car when she noticed a woman passing on the sidewalk. A stranger, which was noticeable in a town where everyone knew everyone else.

The woman seemed unnaturally focused on Iris, which made the hair at her nape stand on end. And then she noticed the woman's sickly pallor and gasping breaths.

Iris left the minivan with a glance over her shoulder and approached the lady slowly. "Do you need help?"

The stranger's face had gone even whiter, and she pressed one fist to her chest.

"Ma'am?"

The woman shook her head. "I'll...be all right...in a minute."

Iris couldn't walk away. She looked around. Was the woman alone? Seemed like it. A glance at the minivan showed the boys were staying in their car seats. She could hear the muted chatter of their voices through the cracked window.

Iris stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and the woman.

"What's your name?" Iris asked.

"Maude," the woman rasped. "Jamison."

Iris reared back. Jamison . The same Jamisons who were Callum's in-laws? She'd forgotten until just now that, while he'd been in the hospital, he'd claimed they had kidnapped Levi and Brandt.

Fear made her hands shake as she scanned the area all around. Nothing out of place. No older men in trench coats, waiting to grab her or the twins. Just the near-empty bank parking lot.

And she didn't think Mrs. Jamison was faking being out of breath.

"Do you need to go to the doctor?"

Mrs. Jamison shook her head. "I have"—shallow breath—"cardiomyopathy."

The word didn't mean anything to Iris. She was terrible with medical jargon. Cardio... that meant some kind of heart condition, didn't it?

"Do you have medicine?"

Maude shook her head. "It's already passing. Not a heart attack. I just saw you with my grandsons and rushed across the street... Moved too fast and got out of breath."

Maude's breathing had settled some, and color had returned to her face. The danger seemed to have passed, and Iris started to back away.

She didn't know the details of what had happened between Callum and his in-laws, but he had mentioned a restraining order, and she didn't want to be a party to breaking that.

Even if Maude didn't much look like a threat. She looked old, though she had to be around Iris's dad's age. And she looked sad, a deep grief in her eyes that resonated with Iris.

"I just... wanted to see them for a second. To know that they're all right." Callum's mother-in-law's eyes had filled with tears now as they slid over Iris's shoulder to the minivan.

Iris could still hear the boys chattering, not paying a lick of attention to what was happening outside the car.

"Are you staying in town?" Iris reached for the door handle.

"I drove down from Oklahoma City. My husband told me not to come, but I had to see them. I was worried about them."

Iris's heart went out to the woman. She just missed her grandsons. And she obviously struggled with health issues.

But there was a restraining order in place for a reason. An impartial judge would've had to approve it.

Maude didn't seem dangerous, but Iris didn't know her.

Sitting in the minivan a few moments later, Iris watched Maude cross the street. The older woman walked with her head down and her shoulders stooped. There was something desolate in her posture. Iris remembered losing her mother and the deep-seated fear that she would lose Jilly. She couldn't just let it go.

"Boys, stay in your seats."

She jumped out of the minivan, used the key fob to lock the doors behind her, and jogged after Maude.

Catching up to the other woman as she hit the opposite sidewalk, Iris said, "Why don't we exchange phone numbers? Maybe we could figure out a way for you to talk to the boys on the phone."

Maude's eyes filled with tears.

As Iris walked back across the street, she caught sight of the video security camera mounted beneath the awning of the bank. There were multiple cameras focused on the parking lot, and the bank was right across the street from the stoplight. Would the bank have any footage that might help the investigation? Wouldn't the police department have already asked for it?

Callum had already told her to stay out of his business.

But if Mike wasn't going to do his job, someone should.