Beabots. Since Mrs. Beabots had known the family for decades, she would have heard all about Katia and her former relationship with Austin. Mrs. Beabots could be a very good ally for her.
Liz handed Katia a glass of white wine. “Try this chardonnay, Katia. It’s a new reserve for us. Aged eighteen months in French oak barrels. I value your opinion.”
Katia sipped the wine and smiled. “It’s so buttery and smooth. I love it.”
“I thought you would.” Liz beamed and then noticed Maddie and Mrs. Beabots staring at her. “What?”
Mrs. Beabots patted Liz’s arm. “Katia was just about to tell us why she’s come back to Indian Lake. Weren’t you, dear?”
Katia nearly choked on the wine. Maybe Mrs. Beabots wouldn’t be the best ally after all. She cleared her throat. “I-I’m relocating my company to Indian Lake as soon as I can find an appropriate office.”
“That is so cool!” Liz interjected happily.
“How large of a space?” Maddie asked perfunctorily. “Do you plan for many employees? Will they be moving here with you?”
Mrs. Beabots placed her hand on Maddie’s cheek and looked at Katia. “She gets excited. Now, Katia, there’s a lovely upstairs loft across from the courthouse that had a rental sign in the window. I saw it just last week. Let’s see...” She glanced around the room. “Yes. There’s Sharon Goodman. I’ll introduce you. The space would be perfect for you. It’s got a beautiful view and two walls of glass. You’ll like that.”
Maddie shot a curious look at Mrs. Beabots. “How do you know what she’d like?”
“Why, it’s obvious. She’s been working in Chicago with all those lights and city amenities. She and her boss will never stand being on the outskirts of town for a minute. They’d go stir-crazy. That intersection is the busiest in the county. It’s only a block to the deli. A block and half to Enzo’s. The bank is on the corner and—” she stared pointedly at Katia “—it’s only six blocks to my house.”
“Your house?” Katia asked.
“That’s a great idea!” Maddie exclaimed. “Mrs. Beabots has an entire third floor that was renovated into a very nice apartment a year ago. It used to be a ballroom. Luke Bosworth and his two children lived there before he married Sarah Jensen next door.”
“Sarah Jensen? Do I know her?” Katia asked Mrs. Beabots.
“She’s a bit younger than you, but you might remember her mother, Ann Marie Jensen. She died a couple years ago. Cancer. You might recall that Ann Marie planted the flowers along Maple Avenue. Sarah lives in the family house now with Luke, Annie and Timmy.”
A hundred memories of being a little girl flashed through Katia’s mind. Walking along this street to go to school, to church or into town with her mother to shop. Happy memories. Loving memories. Suddenly, Katia’s life in Chicago dissipated like fog lifting off a hill as it rose out of a valley. She did remember Ann Marie kneeling on the November cool earth of the boulevard, planting tulip and iris bulbs. Mrs. Jensen had taught her how to plant a bulb. She’d shown Katia how to place the bulb in the earth with the flat side down and the tiny shoots pointing upward. It hadn’t been the kind of information that would change anyone’s life, but the kindness, tenderness and concern she’d shown Katia, who had been all too aware that she was only a housekeeper’s daughter, had stuck with her.
“I would like to meet Sarah,” Katia told Mrs. Beabots. “We have a lot in common, both having lost our mothers.”
“Consider it done,” Mrs. Beabots assured her. “And I insist you move in with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“It sounds lovely...” Katia hesitated.
Maddie nudged Katia with her elbow. “Trust me, there are no high-rises here. No doormen. There aren’t any complexes at all, if you remember. That much about Indian Lake hasn’t changed. The best apartments are in the houses along Maple Avenue. Mrs. Beabots’s is the prettiest and the biggest of all.”
Katia’s eyes widened. “How big?”
“Very,” Mrs. Beabots cut in. “Two bedrooms, large bath, living room and kitchenette. When Luke lived there, I usually cooked for him and the children. Then there are formal gardens in back for reading and contemplating. Lester MacDougal does all the yard work now. Except for the spring planting. I do most of that myself,” she said proudly. “I’d be happy to show it to you this afternoon.”
“I would love to see it.”
Mrs. Beabots clinked her glass against Katia’s. “You will find, my dear, that securing office rental in Indian Lake is child’s play. Residential housing is nearly impossible. You can walk six blocks, can’t you, dear?” Mrs. Beabots asked.
Katia grinned widely. She wasn’t sure if her mother was watching over her and putting all these puzzle pieces of her life together, but there was no question that today was fortuitous. This was so far beyond lucky that it frightened her.
Katia raised her glass and saluted Mrs. Beabots. In one fell swoop, she’d gotten a lead on an office space, a potential place to live and, she hoped, a wily but knowledgeable ally in her pursuit of Austin’s business. “Oh, I can walk it back and forth all day long,” Katia assured her.
“Well, then. Let me introduce you to our mayor, Blair Milo. She’s a few years younger than you are, dear, but she’s a real dynamo. She will show you the ropes around Indian Lake in a jiffy—the new ones, that is. You should join her on her Fitness Friday jogs.”
“The mayor runs?”
“She does it all over the state,” Maddie said, biting into a shrimp.
“I think I’m going to like Indian Lake,” Katia said.
“I certainly hope so.” Mrs. Beabots’s gaze drifted toward the empty hallway.
Katia knew Mrs. Beabots was thinking about Austin. She couldn’t help wondering just how much Mrs. Beabots knew about their teenage romance. Had Austin ever talked about her after she’d left Indian Lake, or had he kept his feelings to himself?
Apparently, everyone in town knew that Austin was a loner, and they accepted him for it. But he hadn’t been like that when she’d known him. Of course, they were just kids then, and their personalities hadn’t molded into who they were today.
As much as Mrs. Beabots, Liz and Maddie were enthusiastic about Katia’s move and welcoming her to the community, something unsettling continued to plague her.
That something, she knew, was sitting upstairs in the bedroom at the end of the hall.
AUSTIN FINISHED UP his call to Joe Collier in Phoenix. They had met at York Prep School and had been friends ever since. Joe was a venture capitalist and was constantly on the lookout for new start-ups. For the past fifteen years, Austin had spent the Christmas holidays with Joe and his wife, Vicki. Each time Austin visited, Joe would have a new company he’d be interested in, and he’d try to snare Austin into investing with him or flat-out buying it. Austin always declined the opportunity. It would take a gale-force wind
