Deadly Secrets Read online

  Chapter 8

  A lot can happen in a short amount of time. Only three weeks had passed since that kick off weekend of demo, but life had progressed at the speed of light. Sam and I were now officially on summer vacation along with the entire teacher and student populations of most of the United States. Hip, Hip, Hoorah! This was the first time in years that I had given myself the gift of time to relax and to bring a wrecking crew to my house.

  Those three weeks were not spent idly as my delivery trucks rolled in with vanities and fixtures for the two upstairs bathrooms. The movers came from the refinishing company to pick up the two claw foot tubs from the master and the soon to be Jack and Jill bathroom. I didn’t envy those poor men who came and fought those monsters down the stairs.

  Sam came up with the idea that we should camp in the guest room instead of simply sleeping in the perfectly good bed which was in the room, so that’s what we did quite literally. We took the guest bed apart and set the rails and the mattresses against the back wall which left plenty of space to pitch our large tent. We threw in some pillows and a couple of sleeping bags, and we were set. It was an adventure that Sam will remember forever; at least that’s what I told myself every morning as I rolled my way out of the tent and coaxed my back into a sitting and eventually standing position. Damn, my body seemed to say that I wasn’t young anymore. I was getting those aches and pains that my parents talked about from time to time.

  Anyway, not only had we vacated the upstairs, but Mike Keegan and a crew of four additional men moved in about a week ago. Mike came by the week after our meeting for the initially measurements and inspection. Then the week after that, his crew arrived at 8:00 sharp every morning. At first, they accomplished much more than I was able to as I had only accomplished that first round of demo. I really hadn’t expected Keegan Builders to begin work before I was off for my summer vacation. Apparently, Mike Keegan was not a man to waste time. Because after only a week, he had knocked a hole in the walls from Sam’s room and the empty third bedroom and created doorways to open into the new Jack and Jill suite bathroom. Those doors had been framed in, and the new doors and hardware had been installed.

  He also drew up plans for added closet storage in both bedrooms by moving the closets to the walls shared by the bathroom and then running the closet the entire length of the wall so that it was a walk in closet with two doors; basically the same style as the bathroom, only now I had two bedrooms that shared a Jack and Jill bathroom and a Jack and Jill walk in closet. That idea had been genius in my book, but seeing it finished as it was now was amazing. Mike Keegan had already surpassed all of my expectations, and he had only just started the master bath.

  I had hoped that as soon as the work in the new j and j bathroom was done, I would be able to get in there and get to work, but that had not happened because Keegan Builders was rocking out my house reconstruction. However, today was my first day off, and I was going to be working! Just not in the bathroom as the refinishers were coming to do the wood floors. Sam and I were deep into installing the new closet organizers when we were so rudely interrupted with, “I can’t believe that you’re listening to that garbage!”

  I turned to face the voice of such treasonous accusations only to find myself face to face with my builder, Mike. “That doesn’t even deserve a response because there is no way you can be casting stones at ‘the stones.’ I mean come on!”

  Mike shrugged. “It may be a classic, but they’re not exactly to my taste.”

  “That kind of surprises me. I would have figured you for the rock and roll type.”

  Mike laughed dismissively, “Well, my type would really shock you then, missy.”

  “Well, in that case I just refuse to ask. So what brings you over? Is there a problem?”

  “Nah, I just thought I’d come over and observe your handiwork.” He made a show of looking the shelving up and down assessing the workmanship that Sam and I had put into it. “Not bad for a couple of amateurs.”

  Sam gave him a leveling look. “Speak for yourself, bud; my work is top notch.”

  Mike was stunned. I guess he had never been exposed to Sam’s sense of humor, or maybe he had - just not from a six year old. It was easy sometimes to forget that Sam was only six. He had an old soul as some would say.

  Mike looked at me and then back at Sam and held up his hands. “I see that I’m mistaken. Wow. That’s a blow to the ego, brought low by a kid.”

  I walked over and patted his shoulder like a comrade in arms. “You’ll be fine. Sam’s taken down many in his time.”

  Mike eyed me. “I guess that helps some. How about the two of you join me for lunch, and we can talk out a peace treaty?”

  I looked at my watch, 12:15. “Huh. I didn’t know it was so late. What do you say, Sam? Shall we let him buy us lunch?”

  Sam looked at Mike again and decided that he was okay. “Sure as long as we’re going somewhere good.”

  We both turned to look at Mike. “So where are we going?”

  Mike put his hands in his back pockets and rocked on his heels. “How about the Dawg House?”

  Sam jumped up and punched the air. “Awesome!”

  Mike winked at me. “Looks like he’s a real boy after all.”

  I laughed at him. “Smartass,” I said under my breath.

  “I heard that,” was whispered under his as we went out of the room and out the door.

  It took a little bit of time to get through lunchtime and tourist season traffic to the Dawg House. Yes, the name is spelled correctly. It is “Dawg.” You don’t have a clue why, do you? Let me explain, the Dawg House happens to be named for the University of Georgia football team, the Georgia Bulldogs, who are affectionately known as the Dawgs. The food in the place is typical bar food, but the names had been changed to things like gator fries ( Florida Gators ) and the Gamecock tenders ( South Carolina Gamecocks) and the puns both good and bad go on and on. In short, it was a fun place to eat, especially for Dawgs fans, who both Sam and I happen to be.

  The parking lot was loaded when we got there, but Mike managed to find a space. We all piled out of his mammoth black pickup truck and into a booth in the restaurant.

  “I can’t believe that we managed to get a booth. I didn’t think there was anywhere left to sit; it seems like standing room only.”

  Mike winked at Sam and me from across the booth. “It is, but I happen to know the owner. He always finds me a seat.”

  The shock must have shown on my face because he laughed. I blushed hoping that I hadn’t insulted him. “Oh. Well, I guess that makes you a regular then.”

  “Sure, especially when it’s football season. I always come in for the college games on Saturday and then for some of the big pro games on Sundays. “

  I grinned. “Please tell me that you’re a Dawgs fan!”

  He shook his head sadly, “No way. Roll tide roll.”

  Sam and I both looked stricken. Sam spoke up first; he was an avid defender of our local boys. “No way, man! Mom, I don’t know if we should sit at a table with a Bama fan.”

  I ruffled his hair. “I think it’ll be all right this one time, but only because the season is over. We can be civilized in the off season, I guess.”

  Sam looked a little put upon, but he nodded and looked from me to Mike with a twinkle in his eyes, “But only cause he fixed my room.”

  Mike laughed then, “Right on, Sam. You know you’re something for such a young kid.”

  Just then the waitress came to the table and took our orders. Sam put in for a Coke and a bulldog burger with cheese. Mike ordered the Grilled Gator Sandwich (chicken sandwich) with a beer, and I opted for the twin chili cheese touchdown sliders with a Diet Coke. We were packing on a ton of calories but hopefully not enough to bring on a heart attack.

  “By the way, I know you said you would look for the information on the company that worked on the house before. Have you had any luck?” Mike asked.

  I knocked myself in th
e head with my hand, “Duh me. I’m sorry, Mike. I forgot to tell you. Yes, I looked through all of my grandmother’s old papers a few days ago. I found the receipts, and I have them in the kitchen. We can look them over when we get back. The receipt has the name of the company, the location, and the phone number - though it is all about 15 to 20 years old by now I suspect.”

  “That’s okay. I should be able to track them down. It might be a dead end, but you never know. Do you remember the name of the company off hand?”

  “Yeah, it was Clements and Dean Construction. Have you heard of them?”

  “I can’t say as I have, but the company could have changed hands or the owners could have certainly closed up shop by now. I’ve only been running my crew in the area for about 7 years.”

  My ears perked up at that bit of personal information. “So where were you before that?”

  Mike looked uncomfortable. “I was in Charlotte. Something happened up there, and I decided a move was in order.”

  I could tell by his mannerisms that he really did not want to continue the present topic, so we drifted off into the mundane.

  That night as we watched TV from within our tent, Sam asked me, “Are you dating Mike?”

  I was momentarily taken back, not just because Sam had asked me that, but also by the question itself. I cleared my throat, “Well no, Sam. I’m not dating Mike. I like him. I think that he’s fun, and I enjoy spending time with him, talking to him, but that’s all it is. Why?”

  Sam shrugged his small shoulders looking every bit as insecure as a six year without a father could look. “I was just wondering because if you were that would be okay with me. I just wanted you to know that it would be okay with me.”

  “Oh Sam, I know that there will be someone great for us some day, but Mike isn’t that someone. We can still be his friends, right?”

  Sam smiled, “Yeah, he’s a lot of fun even if he is an Alabama fan.”

  We shared a laugh, and Sam went back to watching TV. I, however, was hopelessly distracted now. My son wanted me to date. He wanted a man around. He wanted a dad. I sighed. It was my job to give him that, so I had better get to shopping the market or at least perusing the aisles.