“I was hoping you might be able to tear yourself away from all these painting projects you’re working on to spend some time with me. Not detective work. Just us.”
“I think I’d like that.”
“Like a real date?”
She paused and he hoped she wasn’t going to say no.
“I think I’d really like that too.”
He withheld the verbal elation, but it was pulsing right through him. “That’s great. I’ll be up there tonight. I wrangled a room at your friend Orene’s house.”
“Well, you were pretty confident I’d say yes, weren’t you?”
“I was very hopeful.”
“You know the way.” Her laugh was lighthearted. “Randy, I can’t wait to see you.”
“Anything I can bring you from the big city?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. A dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts. We’ll put them in the microwave and pretend they are hot off the press.”
“You got ’em. I’ll see you later.”
“I can’t wait.”
There was one more call to make. There was no telling how this one would go, but showing up in person to talk about it wasn’t an option.
He dialed the number, which Orene had been kind enough to share with him, and hoped for the best. “Hello? Mr. Grandstaff. You don’t know me, but we have a friend in common. Someone very special.”
“I’m listening,” he said, with a hint of question in his voice.
“Our mutual friend is Natalie Maynard.”
“She’s quite special.”
“Yes, sir. She is, and she’s been worried. I’m a detective, and I did some digging. I think I understand what’s going on, and I’d like for us to connect these dots together if you’ll allow me to help.”
They’d gotten to the details Randy needed to understand, and together they made a plan that would straighten it all out with Natalie that evening.
Randy dropped the phone back in its cradle. “Wow.”
“You look beat.” Hutchens stood at his office door. “Thought you’d be gone by now.”
“Working on it.”
“Go, already. If anyone needs a life, it’s you,” Hutchens said. “Seriously. Go. You look like you need a break.”
“I do.” He turned off his computer. “I’m gone.”
“Good luck.”
Randy hoped he wouldn’t need it. He pulled out of the parking deck only fifteen minutes later than he’d planned, which was still much earlier than Natalie would expect him.
He coasted along the dirt road, dust billowing around his truck. It was dry, but the trees were putting on a show that would be impossible to match.
Up ahead, Natalie sat on the bridge with her feet dangling over the side. For a girl with a fear of heights, she was making strides in that area.
He parked and walked over.
