Water's Edge (34 page)

“I’d still like to get an order from Judge Caldwell authorizing transfer of the funds.”

“Is that really necessary at this point?” Arthur asked. “Everyone except Harrelson agrees the money belongs to our investors, and I want those funds properly credited to our clients’ accounts as soon as possible. We’ll have to make up the lost interest, but that’s a pittance in the overall scheme of things.”

Tom couldn’t come up with a good argument for a court order except it had been part of his plan before he found out what really happened. Arthur had a legitimate reason to set things right as soon as possible, and Tom had the information he needed for the estate file.

“All right. I guess there’s no one left to complain except Harrelson.”

“From what I’ve been told, he’ll be taken into custody this weekend. The British authorities can deal with Nettles at the same time.” There was a brief pause. “I’m at the airport. Thanks again for all you’ve done. When I get back, we’ll sit down and see what I can do to help you professionally.”

The call ended. Tom returned to the pond. Harrelson and the saga of designated trust account were history.

It was time to concentrate on Rose Addington.

chapter
TWENTY-EIGHT

T
om stepped into the clearing and glanced toward the picnic table. Rose wasn’t there. He quickly looked around the pond but didn’t see her.

“Rose!” he called out.

There was no answer. He started jogging around the pond toward the picnic table. He stopped and called out again.

“Rose!”

“Over here,” a faint voice replied.

He turned in the direction of the sound. “Where are you?” he called out.

“The road!”

Tom continued around the pond and saw Rose walking down the roadway behind the barn toward him.

“Why did you leave?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“Just walking. I looked up, and you were gone. What were you doing?”

“Arthur called and gave me instructions for returning the money in the designated trust account to Pelham Financial. I couldn’t get a clear signal until I walked up the hill.” Tom held out his hand. “These wiring numbers are worth almost two million dollars.”

“Then make sure you don’t wash your hand.”

Tom motioned toward the picnic table. “How was your time alone?”

“A bit empty. I’m not sure what I expected, but there isn’t much for me here, at least not now. Today isn’t my day.”

“I’m sorry.”

Rose smiled. “We British have to maintain our reputation for a stiff upper lip and pressing on with dogged determination in the face of hardship.”

“What does pressing on mean for you now?”

Rose didn’t hesitate. “Following the call of the Lord to serve the children I can help.”

It was the kind of unselfish answer Tom had never heard from another human being his age before he met Rose Addington. He looked down at her, not sure if he wanted to kiss her stiff upper lip or applaud her fortitude.

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked.

“Yes.”

When they reached the car, Tom copied the wiring instructions from his hand onto a slip of paper.

“What else did Mr. Pelham say?” Rose asked.

“The federal government has taken over the case. With all the investor fraud that’s happened during the past few years, things like this get immediate attention. By the first of the week, we’ll be reading about Owen Harrelson in the newspaper and on the Internet.”

“That’s sad.”

“How can you say that after he set up your father as the fall guy if his scheme went bad?” Tom asked in surprise.

“Do you think our fathers are looking down from heaven wishing ill toward any person?”

Tom didn’t reply, but he wouldn’t mind knocking Owen Harrelson to the ground, so long as it didn’t break Tom’s hand. The arrogant executive could have killed Randall Freiburger and attempted to embezzle $1,750,000. They drove back to Esther’s house.

“When will I see you again?” Tom asked as he walked Rose to the door.

“I’m available,” she replied with a smile. “Within reason, of course. You have my number.”

“Give me a reason.”

Rose paused. “I’ve heard about a scenic overlook near a big rock where people paint messages—”

“I can take you there,” Tom cut in.

“You wouldn’t mind? I feel like I’m asking you to be my personal tour guide.”

“One who loves his new job. How about Saturday?”

“So long as it’s in the morning. Mum and I have plans for the afternoon.”

“Morning is great. I’ll pick you up about seven thirty. Wear comfortable shoes.”

______

Tom found Elias sitting in the front room.

“How was your time with Rose Addington?” the old man asked.

“Good. She’s different from any other woman I’ve met.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Your matchmaking days are over. Just be glad God answered your prayers for my soul.”

“What I pray isn’t up to you. Oh, Lane Conner called while you were out.”

“Did he leave a message?”

“No, he just asked me to have you call him back.”

Tom checked his watch. “I’ll try to connect with him on Sunday. I need to schedule my baptism before the creek gets clogged with ice.”

“Yes!” Elias clapped his hands together so loudly that Rover’s head popped up from the floor.

______

The following morning Tom went to Bethel Commercial Bank & Trust. Charles Loughton wasn’t available, so a young bank officer helped him complete the wire transfer. The young man didn’t seem interested in asking questions, which suited Tom. Fifteen minutes later Tom walked out of the bank, looked up at the sky, and took a deep breath. He was a free man.

Back at his father’s office, he turned on his computer. There was an e-mail in his in-box from Owen Harrelson, sent the previous evening and asking Tom to call. He ignored it. After lunch he told Bernice she could go home. There wasn’t much left for her, or him, to do.

By the end of the day, Tom had finished going through the few remaining files in his father’s office. He typed a few letters and stuck them in envelopes. It would take a day to dispose of the outdated library and pack up his father’s personal belongings. There wasn’t even enough money left in the operating account to pay Bernice’s wages. Tom’s own bank account was shrinking rapidly. It was time for action.

He called Nate Becker to accept the job and set a start date, but the Atlanta lawyer was out of the office until the following week. Tom hesitated for moment, then left a short message to return the call. He didn’t want to communicate something as important as acceptance of a job via voice mail.

He and Elias had a quiet supper.

“What are you going to do when I’m gone and no one is bringing you food?” Tom asked.

“Eat a good breakfast. That’s easier for me to cook. After that, I’ll eat sandwiches and fruit. Before you came I wasn’t taking good care of myself, so anything will be an improvement.”

Elias ate a bite of corn casserole.

“Did you talk to Lane Conner?” the old man asked.

“No, remember, I’m going to get with him on Sunday.”

“That’s right,” Elias said. “I forgot. How are things at the office?”

“About done. I sent Bernice home early today. Tomorrow morning Rose Addington and I are going to hike up to look at the painted rock.”

“With or without Rover?”

Tom looked at the dog, who was curled up near his water bowl in the corner of the kitchen.

“I don’t think he had a very good time the other day. He’ll be happier napping at your feet in the living room.”

That night at 3:00 a.m. Tom came downstairs. No light shone from beneath the study door, so he went inside and knelt in front of the straight-backed chair and thanked God for resolving the problem of the designated trust account. As Rose told Rick and Tiffany, seeking God’s help to get through a practical problem had been a new experience for Tom. Although the situation worked out in the end, he’d felt like a metal ball in a pinball machine as he bounced from one perspective to another. He prayed that the next time he faced a challenge he would be able to hear more accurately and see more clearly. Following the Lord in a straight line would be much more efficient.

______

Saturday dawned cool and clear. Tom could see his breath as he walked across the yard to his car. He threw a small backpack and a couple of bottles of water in the car.

Before he could ring the doorbell at the Addington house, Rose came outside. She was wearing a green sweater, hiking pants, and lightweight boots. She’d tied her hair in a ponytail. Her auburn hair looked great against the green sweater.

“Mum’s still resting, and I didn’t want the bell to wake her,” Rose said.

“You look like you’ve done this before,” Tom replied.

“I like to tramp through meadow and moorland. And the weather is finally getting to a comfortable spot.”

“You’ll only see a meadow if we pass one in the car, and I hope we don’t get stuck in the moorland. But it’s a perfect day for a walk up the ridge.”

Tom held the door open for Rose. It felt comfortable having her slip into the front seat of the car. When they reached the highway, he turned onto the main road and accelerated rapidly.

“Feeling frisky?” Rose asked as the sudden increase in speed pushed them against the seats.

They came around a curve as a sheriff’s department car passed them going in the opposite direction. Tom took his foot off the gas and let the car slow down. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see if the officer was turning around. The patrol car passed from sight.

“I don’t need to attract the attention of the police. I haven’t had a speeding ticket in three years, and my car insurance premium is about to drop to a more reasonable level.”

They arrived at the parking lot for the trail. It was empty.

“The high school crowd comes on Friday and Saturday nights and fills this space up,” Tom said. “That’s when the kids walk to the top with cans of spray paint and beer.”

“Did you do that when you were in school?”

“Yes, and I’m glad some of the writings I left on the rock are covered with multiple layers of paint.”

Tom slipped his arms through the backpack. It was still cool enough that they could see their breath.

“Ready?” he asked Rose.

“Yes,” she replied, looking up at the ridge. “Let’s take an easy pace, okay?”

“Sure. My buddies and I would race to the top, but that’s not what I’m interested in today.”

Rose smiled. “ ‘My heart’s in the Highlands.’”

“Robert Burns.”

“Yes.”

“The trail to the highlands starts over here.” Tom pointed to a narrow gap in the trees.

Tom led the way through the switchbacks cut into the side of the hill. Rose’s breathing remained steady, proof she was in good shape. When he’d climbed with Rover it took thirty minutes to reach the top. With Rose walking steadily beside him they reached the summit in twenty minutes. The visibility was good, and they could see the higher hills that were stepping stones to the Great Smoky Mountains. This morning the Smokies weren’t shrouded with the haze that gave them their name.

“The exposed rock is over this little rise,” Tom said as he continued on the path that ran along the top of the ridge.

They reached the rock. It bore fresh paint memorializing the score of the previous night’s high school football game in which Etowah County defeated a team from Rossville. The numbers of the players who made outstanding plays for the Etowah team were listed beside the score. Tom explained everything to Rose.

“Was your number ever painted on the rock?” she asked.

“Several times, but it would take an archaeologist to uncover it.”

“What happens if the local team loses?”

“Sometimes the winning team sneaks up here and paints the score on the rock as a way to rub it in.”

“I’d like to see an American football game while I’m here.”

“A high school game?”

“Yes.”

“That’s easy enough. There’s another home game next Friday night. It will be a perfect chance for you to see what it’s all about.”

They scrambled up to the top of the rock. The day was getting warmer, but a cool breeze blew across the top of the hill. Rose sat close to Tom without touching him. He nudged closer until they made contact. She didn’t move away. They surveyed the surrounding countryside without speaking for a few minutes.

“Does it remind you of any place in Britain?” he asked.

“A bit. You have more trees in the States, which is a nice touch.”

“And these forests are a shadow of what it was like when the first settlers arrived. Back then, trees twenty feet in diameter and large enough to live in were common.”

“Live in? Like a tree house?”

“Not exactly. Elias has an old photograph of a family standing inside a tulip poplar tree that had been cut down and hollowed out as a temporary shelter.”

Tom handed Rose a bottle of water and opened the other for himself. They drank in silence. Rose screwed the top onto her bottle and set it on the rock beside her.

“Mum and I are meeting with a real estate agent this afternoon to talk about selling the house.”

“Who is it?”

“Anita Bishop.”

“She sells a lot of houses.” Tom nodded.

“What sort of questions should I ask her?”

Tom gave Rose a basic real estate primer.

“That helps,” Rose said when he finished. “It’s handy having a free solicitor.”

Tom then asked Rose about her siblings and their families. It was the most talkative he’d found her on any subject. She showed him photos stored on her phone. Tom tried to keep the names of the nieces and nephews straight in his mind.

“I can’t wait to see them again,” Rose said, closing her phone. “But I know it will be sad without Papa around. It especially hurts that the grandchildren won’t have the chance to spend time with him.”

Rose then asked Tom what he had been reading in the Bible. They talked about Isaiah and John.

“It’ll take me awhile to catch up with you,” Tom said after she quoted a verse.

“I’m sure there are laws and court cases you’ve memorized because they come up so often.”