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“I like your shoes too,” Catherine replied.
“Want to trade?” the girl asked.
Catherine laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, this is my favorite pair.”
Catherine threaded her way between the kids seated on the steps with the same graceful ease she strolled through her garden, while Beverly Snodgrass and Ron Flanders moved to the far right to walk where the way was clear.
“Hey, Luke.” The boy with the skateboard came walking toward them. “You think we’d get a reward if we found out who killed Felix Mendoza?”
“I doubt anyone has offered one, Nick. It’s only when someone the community admires is killed that the family, or his friends, put up a reward.”
“Damn,” Nick swore, and he dropped his skateboard, hopped on and spun around in an agile turn.
“Do you know something?” Luke pressed. “If you do, come inside with me now, and we’ll call the police.”
The teenagers gathered on the steps responded with a chorus of howls. “He won’t have to give his name,” Luke admonished the noisy crowd, “but it’s important to provide clues.”
“Why?” Tina Stassy asked. “We all know what Felix was after, and it’s about time he got what was coming to him.”
“I won’t argue with you,” Luke admitted, “but if any of you saw or heard anything significant, please let me know. I’ll pass it along to the police.”
Luke gestured for his volunteers to follow him, and they made their way around the hall and past what had once been a wide, green lawn. Dave Curtis was out working on the sprinklers, and he waved to them before turning them on to produce a varied mixture of sputtering sprays and one immense geyser.
“Do you think we could call this mess dancing waters and sell tickets?” Dave called to them.
“No way. Shut it off,” Luke ordered.
“He just needs a couple of new sprinkler heads,” Ron offered. “Do you mind if I give him a hand?”
“Not at all. The yard’s too small for a real soccer game, but it would be great if the kids had a lawn were they could kick a ball around.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Ron replied, and he broke into a slow, loping jog to join Dave.
Now accompanied by only Beverly and Catherine, Luke returned to the office. “Whether you can volunteer a couple of hours a month or a couple of days a week, you need to set up a schedule and let us know whenever you’re unable to come in on your regular day. Pam will help you with that. Thanks for coming in today, and I hope to see you both often.”
Luke’s handshake was firm but brief. When he quickly broke eye contact, Catherine felt certain he’d made the same parting comment to all the volunteers, but Beverly positively beamed as though his words had been meant for her alone.
When Luke entered his office and closed the door, Beverly hurriedly checked her watch. “I’ve got a nail appointment, so I can’t stay today, but what about Friday afternoon? Would that be a good time to come in?” she asked.
Pam checked the master schedule posted on the wall by the door. “Friday is actually pretty light, so the afternoon would be fine.”
“Good. I’ll see you then. Catherine, was it? Maybe I’ll see you then too.”
“Possibly,” Catherine replied.
Pam waited until Beverly had closed the door on her way out, and then whispered, “What happened to the others? Luke always manages to discourage a couple, but this is the first time he’s begun a training session with seven volunteers and ended with only two.”
Catherine quickly reassured Pam that only the Tubergens had dropped out, and that the others were still at work on the premises. “I’d like to stay a while longer today if I may. There’s a mountain of clothes to sort. Could I ask some of the kids to help me?”
Pam shook her head. “We’ve tried that, but they tend to work just long enough to find whatever it is they need and then leave, so not much progress is made.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then broke into a delighted smile. “I’m way behind on the mail.” She reached behind her desk to pick up a cardboard banker’s box and carried it over to the second desk.
“When the mail arrives, I sort it into bills we have to pay and stuff addressed to kids, because we want them to be able to follow up quickly on job applications, but the other letters just land in here until someone has time to sort them and post the flyers in the hall. Use this desk and see what you find. Some parents send out dozens of flyers, and we try and post the new ones every week.
“Stop whenever you get tired, or take a break for lunch and come back if you like. We’re real flexible here.” Pam lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “At least I am, but don’t you dare tell Luke I said that.”
Catherine doubted she and Luke would ever exchange any such teasing confidences. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” she promised.
She slid into the chair at the desk, reached for the first letter and used a pair of scissors from the desk drawer to slit it open. Just as Pam had predicted, it contained a flyer of a teenage boy described as a runaway, and she set it aside to post. She’d noticed the bank of colorful flyers in the hall where the meals were served but hadn’t been close enough to recognize what they were.
