Page 37 of Call Back

Chapter 8

I started makinga mental list of things to ask my mother, and Daddy’s year as a social butterfly was definitely on there. I vaguely remembered him being gone a lot for a short time when I was in grade school, which was an oddity, especially since I remembered him being home most nights until the months leading up to his death.

I got up and found a notebook and a pencil on a table made of sawhorses and plywood. I took both over to my floor space and spread out the articles, making a list of the events and dates, coming up with a rough calendar covering seven months in the social season of 1996. Next, I pulled out my cell phone and looked up the dates of the Jackson Project. Sure enough, the land project had been announced two months after my father started attending the social events in earnest.

Daddy and Bill James had been trolling for investors.

Had he thought the project was on the up and up? Or had he known it was shady to begin with? I liked to think he hadn’t known, but after everything else I’d found out about him—not to mention the massive stash of gold Colt and I had found in that dog—I was reserving judgment and trying to stay neutral.

“Have you made any progress?” Ava asked, catching me deep in thought.

I jumped and spun around to face her. “Miss Ava.”

“I haven’t forgotten my own name,” she grumped, then let out a loud whoosh of air as she reached the top step. “Tell me about your progress.”

I gave her a blank look. “I’ve made it about halfway through the box. And I’m still not certain how you want me to sort them.”

“Only halfway?” she asked in dismay. “I have another box you need to go through tomorrow.”

I stared up at her, unsure of how to respond. On the one hand, I was scheduled to work as a hostess at her weekly Thursday morning Bible study tomorrow, after which I had to put in a shift at Rebellious Rose until six, which didn’t leave me much time to work on Ava’s attic. But in just one box, I’d discovered answers to questions I hadn’t even known to ask. Sure, I could come back in a day or two, but I’d waited fourteen years, and I was finally getting somewhere. I didn’t want to wait any longer.

“I can take this box home tonight and work on it in my apartment. Alvin has me scheduled to work tomorrow from one to six, but I’ll see if I can get someone to cover for my shift.”

She shook her head. “Take the box home, but come over at seven tomorrow. You can work on the second box before you start your hostessing duties.”

I nearly protested the time—shoot, eight thirty was early enough—but it occurred to me that maybe the real purpose of this exercise was for me to find clues about my father’s past. I’d asked her what she knew about his supposed affair with Shannon Morrissey; maybe this was her roundabout way of helping me. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be here. I can work for a couple of hours, then change before I serve at your meeting. I would hate to look disheveled for your guests.”

She glanced down at the clippings and my list, then held my gaze. “The moment I met you, I knew you were smarter than most people perceive you to be. Don’t disappointment me, Magnolia.” She lifted her chin. “At my age, my image is everything. That you recognize this is proof enough that I was right about you.”

Her praise meant more than it should have because I was fairly certain she wasn’t just talking about looking good. To hide my shock, I glanced down at my phone, surprised to see it was almost one fifteen. “Miss Ava,” I said, resisting the urge to cringe in expectation of her wrath. “I’m supposed to have lunch with my mother at two. Would you mind if I take off early?”

She frowned. “Why would I mind? Rumor has it your mother isn’t feeling well. You should look after her.”

How had Ava found out about my mother’s illness? She wouldn’t have been able to cut it out of a newspaper, but then I suspected the written word was only one source of Ava Milton’s information. Eavesdropping on her Bible study last week had proved to me that she was aware of all the goings-on in town. How else would she have known about Emily’s murder before it showed up on any news program?

I decided to neither confirm nor deny my mother’s illness. “Thank you. I’ll show up for work bright and early.” My clothes were filthy and I really needed a shower. After I grabbed the catering uniform from my apartment, I’d need a place to change. “Speaking of which . . . would you mind if I change in your powder room? I don’t feel comfortable changing in my apartment with no lock on the front door.”

“Your door’s been taken care of,” she said as she started down the stairs again. “Your new keys are on the table in the kitchen. Please try to refrain from destroyingthenew one.”

I started to protest that I hadn’t been the one to destroy the door, but there was no denying I was the cause. Besides, Ava was already gone—she’d descended the staircase quicker than I would have thought possible for a woman her age. Instead, I scooped up the papers and put them back into the box. For once I didn’t mind having homework.

Ava wasn’t downstairs when I walked into the kitchen, but I found the keys on the table just as she’d said I would. They weren’t the only things I found. When I walked out the back door, Colt was sitting on the bottom steps of the stairs to my apartment.

How could I have forgotten that he’d had his own homework assignment? But more importantly, why hadn’t he answered my text?

His legs were extended and crossed at the ankles. His elbows rested on the step behind him. He sat up the moment he saw me.

“Can’t you fulfill a simple request?” I asked in a short tone as I walked toward him.

His brow lifted and he held out his hands. “What?”

“I asked you to let me know that you got my text!”

He lifted his shoulder into a lazy shrug. “I’m fine, Maggie Mae. Stop worrying so much.”

Part of me wanted to snap at him, but I knew Colt wasn’t used to answering to anyone. He probably thought I was turning into a nagging woman. While the thought pissed me off, I decided to let it go this time. The important thing was that he was safe. “I’m surprised you didn’t come in.”

“Your new front door is locked.”

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