spotted carry-on luggage. Surely VanSant would have said something about the computer and luggage if he’d noticed them. Instead, he ran up the stairs without comment.
“Hey, Maeva,” Paula called from the doorway where she stood with a tall, handsome man, sixty maybe, with white hair, buzz cut, prominent chin and smiling eyes. “Meet an old friend of mine, Keith Harrigan. Keith and I used to be childhood sweethearts. We both grew up in Decatur, Georgia, a suburb of Atlanta.” Paula smiled at Harrigan and his face blushed like a little boy with a crush.
I walked over and extended my right hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Keith. I wish I had more time to chat, but I’m in a rush.”
Harrigan offered a bearish hand and bone-breaking grip. I thought he’d never let go. Was he unaware of his strength or did he squeeze my hand like that on purpose? Paula said, “Maeva lives in Alabama. She and her sister own the two places next door, but Maeva’s so busy with her job, I don’t see her much.”
“What kind of work do you do, Maeva?” Harrigan asked.
“I’m a CAT.”
Paula interrupted. “She investigates storm claims.”
“I know what a CAT is, and if I’m not mistaken, we’ve met before. In Montgomery, a couple of years back, at an FBI, Alabama Bureau banquet. Weren’t you with Adam Lorenz?”
I felt a stabbing pain at the mention of Adam’s name. “Keith never forgets a name or a face,” Paula said. “You with the FBI?” I managed to ask.
“Retired, if they’ll let me.”
“What’s with the helicopters?” I wanted to know. “Surveying the area and transporting Mr. Trawler and Mr. Loughton, who are concerned about their wives.”
I heard VanSant exhale through his teeth, signaling his reappearance. “Geneva’s not here. I don’t know what to do.” His voice trailed off as he walked outside, leaving the front door ajar. “I hope to God she and Roxanne didn’t try to stick it out over there.” VanSant jogged through the flooded street where Mason Trawler directed a front loader with a large crane.
I started to ask Keith about Tara Baxter, but before I could, he walked away, calling over his shoulder. “Nice meeting you again, Maeva. Hope to talk with you later. Don’t forget our lunch tomorrow, Paula.” Keith followed VanSant to where Roxanne’s husband squatted in the sand, looking depressed. Paula sighed. “Keith’s the man I should have married.”
I felt pressured. I needed privacy and time to work, but I thought Paula might have information about Tara’s death. “You and Keith seem pretty close. Does he ever talk to you about what he’s working on? Adam sometimes did.”
“Nah, he’s usually hush, hush. I think he’s afraid of my big mouth.” Paula laughed, tilting her head back.
“I hope we can talk later, Paula. Right now I need to get to work.”
Paula frowned and nodded. “Don’t you want to know why Keith and I didn’t get married?”
“Yes, I’d love to hear about it later when I’m not so pressured.” I smiled and backed inside the VanSants’ townhouse.
Paula followed me. “Why don’t we chat while you do your thing?”
I sighed impatiently, as I walked through the town home assessing the damages. I had trouble concentrating with Paula talking on and on.
“I was sixteen and in high school when we met. Keith was older, got drafted to Vietnam. Daddy wanted me to attend college. So he intercepted Keith’s letters. Imagine, my own daddy kept Keith’s letters from me. I thought Keith had lost interest when he didn’t answer mine to him. He did answer, but I never got the letters.” Paula shook her head, sadly.
“It was one of those awful things. I never stopped loving Keith, even after I graduated from the University of Georgia, became a teacher and married another teacher. Keith married someone else, too, and now he has a slew of grandkids.” Paula wiped her eyes. “Only recently did we find out what happened concerning our letters.”
“Hey, Maeva,” Paula called from the doorway where she stood with a tall, handsome man, sixty maybe, with white hair, buzz cut, prominent chin and smiling eyes. “Meet an old friend of mine, Keith Harrigan. Keith and I used to be childhood sweethearts. We both grew up in Decatur, Georgia, a suburb of Atlanta.” Paula smiled at Harrigan and his face blushed like a little boy with a crush.
I walked over and extended my right hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Keith. I wish I had more time to chat, but I’m in a rush.”
Harrigan offered a bearish hand and bone-breaking grip. I thought he’d never let go. Was he unaware of his strength or did he squeeze my hand like that on purpose? Paula said, “Maeva lives in Alabama. She and her sister own the two places next door, but Maeva’s so busy with her job, I don’t see her much.”
“What kind of work do you do, Maeva?” Harrigan asked.
“I’m a CAT.”
Paula interrupted. “She investigates storm claims.”
“I know what a CAT is, and if I’m not mistaken, we’ve met before. In Montgomery, a couple of years back, at an FBI, Alabama Bureau banquet. Weren’t you with Adam Lorenz?”
I felt a stabbing pain at the mention of Adam’s name. “Keith never forgets a name or a face,” Paula said. “You with the FBI?” I managed to ask.
“Retired, if they’ll let me.”
“What’s with the helicopters?” I wanted to know. “Surveying the area and transporting Mr. Trawler and Mr. Loughton, who are concerned about their wives.”
I heard VanSant exhale through his teeth, signaling his reappearance. “Geneva’s not here. I don’t know what to do.” His voice trailed off as he walked outside, leaving the front door ajar. “I hope to God she and Roxanne didn’t try to stick it out over there.” VanSant jogged through the flooded street where Mason Trawler directed a front loader with a large crane.
I started to ask Keith about Tara Baxter, but before I could, he walked away, calling over his shoulder. “Nice meeting you again, Maeva. Hope to talk with you later. Don’t forget our lunch tomorrow, Paula.” Keith followed VanSant to where Roxanne’s husband squatted in the sand, looking depressed. Paula sighed. “Keith’s the man I should have married.”
I felt pressured. I needed privacy and time to work, but I thought Paula might have information about Tara’s death. “You and Keith seem pretty close. Does he ever talk to you about what he’s working on? Adam sometimes did.”
“Nah, he’s usually hush, hush. I think he’s afraid of my big mouth.” Paula laughed, tilting her head back.
“I hope we can talk later, Paula. Right now I need to get to work.”
Paula frowned and nodded. “Don’t you want to know why Keith and I didn’t get married?”
“Yes, I’d love to hear about it later when I’m not so pressured.” I smiled and backed inside the VanSants’ townhouse.
Paula followed me. “Why don’t we chat while you do your thing?”
I sighed impatiently, as I walked through the town home assessing the damages. I had trouble concentrating with Paula talking on and on.
“I was sixteen and in high school when we met. Keith was older, got drafted to Vietnam. Daddy wanted me to attend college. So he intercepted Keith’s letters. Imagine, my own daddy kept Keith’s letters from me. I thought Keith had lost interest when he didn’t answer mine to him. He did answer, but I never got the letters.” Paula shook her head, sadly.
“It was one of those awful things. I never stopped loving Keith, even after I graduated from the University of Georgia, became a teacher and married another teacher. Keith married someone else, too, and now he has a slew of grandkids.” Paula wiped her eyes. “Only recently did we find out what happened concerning our letters.”
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