Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Taylor slept fitfully that night, her dreams filled with memories. She woke exhausted but pulled on her clothes and got ready for a day in the office.
She could stay home again. Nothing said she had to go in, but the thought of getting out of the house appealed to her.
After swinging by the attorney’s office to turn over the items designated for her mother, Taylor stepped into the Elite office to the jingle of bells.
Glenna looked up from her computer and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you.” Taylor glanced around. “Is Jameson here?”
“He was,” Glenna informed her, “but he left again. He should be back around lunchtime.”
“It seems like he’s in early most days.” Taylor wasn’t exactly sure how private investigators operated.
“He’s usually here by six. Both he and Bob liked to start their day early, to get a jump on surveillance or tackle administrative stuff before everything gets crazy.”
Taylor blinked. “Six? ”
Back in Chicago, she thought she’d been doing well to be on the train by six and at her desk by seven. Then again, there wasn’t much of a commute in GraceTown.
“I can’t recall a day when they didn’t beat me to the office.” Glenna smiled. “I offered—reluctantly, I might add—to come in that early. They both assured me there was no need. Getting here right before the office officially opened at eight was fine.”
Taylor set down her briefcase before pouring herself a cup of coffee and taking a long drink.
The taste was adequate, especially for someone operating on little sleep. Still, Taylor vowed to grab some premium beans the next time she was at the store.
“Do you get much business in the morning?” Taylor asked, embarrassed to admit she’d been so focused on her own tasks that she’d paid little attention to the office day-to-day.
“Eight is usually the earliest that meetings with clients are scheduled.” Glenna rose and refilled her own coffee cup. “Sometimes they come in for a face-to-face. Most often, information is taken over the phone or by videoconferencing.”
A picture formed in Taylor’s mind. She liked these details. Knowing how the business functioned helped her figure out how she could help.
Taylor dropped down to sit in the visitor’s chair. “Would you have time to answer a few questions?”
“I’ll certainly answer the ones I can.”
“I’m curious about the type of cases the agency normally handles.” Taylor leaned back and felt almost human as the caffeine jump-started her system. “It appears Elite does primarily surveillance work.”
Glenna took a long, thoughtful sip of her drink. “Yes. Your father did most of the investigations dealing with suspicions of infidelity. Jameson focused on insurance fraud and corporate investigations.”
“Why do you think that was? ”
“Probably because that split the caseload pretty evenly. Your dad had a heart for those desperate to know if their spouse was cheating, like Sara Rogers. He liked knowing he was doing what he could to ease their mind or confirm their suspicions. Bob had a lot of contacts, and he was good at digging deep.” Even as Glenna smiled, a look of sadness swept over her face.
Taylor wrapped her fingers around the warm ceramic mug. “And Jameson?”
“Like I said, insurance fraud cases and corporate investigations are his specialty.” Glenna took a sip of coffee.
“He and my dad were cops, ah, detectives,” Taylor corrected, “before becoming PIs. How did they learn to do all this?”
“Detectives are trained where to look and what to look for,” Glenna explained. “Bob and Jameson brought that knowledge and expertise when they left GraceTown PD. Once on their own, they built on it.”
Taylor considered her skills and knowledge. “Some of the PI firms I looked at in Baltimore advertise their expertise in asset searches.”
Glenna arched a brow.
“You know, tracing financial transactions, uncovering hidden assets during divorce proceedings?—”
Holding up a hand, Glenna stopped her. “I know what an asset search is. It’s what you’ll be doing for Sara Rogers.”
“Yes, exactly. I’m excited to help.” Taylor smiled. Sara could be just the beginning. Granted, she would need some guidance initially, but she was a quick learner, and this would be a way to contribute to the firm. “I’m thinking that besides looking for ways for the firm to minimize its tax load, I could help with asset searches.”
Gazing at her over the rim of her cup, Glenna nodded. “That sounds like a possibility.”
“I could also use my law degree to work with clients who need an attorney to be their advocate. ”
“You should talk to Jameson about that.”
“I will.” Excitement surged, and Taylor wondered, could this be why her dad hadn’t wanted her to sell? Had he known what she needed to be happy even before she knew it herself?
Taylor had taken her coffee and settled behind her desk when she received a tearful call from Sara. The woman informed her she wanted the divorce petition filed and that Taylor should begin looking into the family’s financials.
Since Taylor hadn’t yet heard back from Abigail, she gave the divorce lawyer a call.
“Sara Rogers wants to file for divorce as soon as possible,” Taylor told Abigail. “I wondered if you’d had a chance to look at what I sent you.”
“I haven’t had a chance to review it,” Abigail admitted. “I have time this morning, though. If you’re available, you could stop by the office. We could review the proposed petition together.”
“I’m free right now.” Taylor pushed back her chair and reached for her dad’s coat.
“Would ten o’clock work?”
Taylor glanced at her watch. If she left now, she could make it by then. “Absolutely. I’ll see you at ten.”
Once she ended the call, Taylor strode into the outer office. “I have a meeting with Abigail Moyer at ten.”
“Take your time. Maybe grab lunch while you’re out.” Glenna’s gaze shifted to the window. “It’s turning out to be a beautiful day. Who knows how many more of these we’ll have?”
“May I bring you back a cookie or some other sweet treat?”
Glenna smiled. “I wouldn’t say no.”
Taylor found herself smiling on the drive to Abigail’s office. Though the office had the same elegant look as her old firm in Chicago, the feel was more welcoming .
When the receptionist indicated that “Ms. Moyer” could see her, Taylor’s palms grew damp.
Abigail stood and rounded her desk. “I’m happy this time worked for you.”
“I’m glad it worked for you,” Taylor said with a little laugh. “You’re the busy one. Thanks again for helping me with this.”
“It’s my pleasure.” The brightness in Abigail’s eyes dimmed ever so slightly. “I’m enjoying getting to know you. Bob spoke of you often.”
“I wish it was under different circumstances.” Taylor kept her tone light.
“Me, too.”
Taylor took a deep, steadying breath and sat in the chair that Abigail indicated.
Had her father planned to introduce her to Abigail when she came home for Thanksgiving or perhaps at Christmas? Taylor shoved the thoughts aside. Not important.
Abigail was on a tight schedule, and they had much to discuss.
“In my research, I learned that Maryland uses equitable distribution as a legal principle to divide property and assets during a divorce.” Taylor cleared her throat. “Instead of splitting marital property equally, the court looks at each spouse’s circumstances and contributions to the marriage.”
Taylor’s heart had sunk the more she’d read.
“Also, marital misconduct is not typically a factor in property division under Maryland law,” Abigail added. “However, there was a recent divorce case similar to Ms. Rogers’s situation. In that case, a couple had been married for fifteen years, and the wife stayed home to care for the children. Even though she had not contributed financially, her non-monetary contributions to the family, such as raising their children and maintaining the household, were considered.”
“You’re saying equitable division may work in her favor, but there is no guarantee. ”
“There is never a guarantee. That’s why we must understand what assets she and her spouse hold. We’ll need a comprehensive list of all assets, relevant financial documents and?—”
As Abigail talked, Taylor added notes to the list she’d compiled.
“If she’s ready to file, we need to meet with her.” Abigail met Taylor’s gaze. “You mentioned she’s concerned about her husband hiding or undervaluing assets.”
Taylor nodded.
“Are you ready to get to work immediately once she gets us her financial documents?”
Taylor smiled. “I’m ready to dig in.”
Taylor called Sara from Abigail’s office. With the assistance of Abigail’s PA, they set up an appointment for the three of them on the following Monday.
While on the phone, the PA texted Sara a list of all the financial details they would need from her.
A productive start to the day put Taylor in an excellent mood as she stepped onto the sidewalk outside Abigail’s office building.
She lifted her face to the sun and expelled a long, satisfied breath. Glenna had been right about it being a beautiful day.
The smile was still on her face when her phone rang.
Probably Glenna, wanting her to pick her up something on her way back to the office. “Hey, what do you need?”
“I need to know that you’re okay.”
Her mother.
Everything in Taylor stilled. After a second, she found her voice. “I’m fine.”
“I just wanted to check in with you.” Lynda hesitated. “I’m sure everything at the office is probably hectic. Will you be going to GraceTown? ”
“I’m already here.”
“You are? I didn’t realize, I mean, since there’s no memorial service, I thought you might handle everything remotely.”
“I, ah, lost my job right before Dad passed.” Taylor swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. “This seemed like a good place to come and sort things out.”
“I’m sorry about the job.” Compassion filled her mother’s voice.
“Yeah, well…”
“How long will you be in GraceTown?”
“I really don’t know how long I’ll be here.”
“It’s a lovely community,” her mother offered in a tentative voice.
“Yes, yes, it is.” Taylor really didn’t want to talk any longer. “I have another call coming in.”
“If there is anything I can do, please let me know.”
“I’ve got to go.” Taylor disconnected the call.
Though the sky remained clear, Taylor’s mood had taken a nose dive. She was no longer in a hurry to return to the office and was considering her options when she received a text from Jameson.
Tasty Truck is in the park today. Interested?
She texted back, I could eat.
Angel statue. Noon?
She responded with a smiley face emoji and refocused on the here and now.
She knew she had much to learn, but the time spent with Abigail had ignited an excitement she hadn’t felt since her law school days. From the time she was small, Taylor loved the challenge of learning new things. That was probably why tax law had kept her interest for as long as it did, as tax laws were always changing.
Working for corporations, not individuals, hadn't been especially satisfying. There was something satisfying about knowing she would be helping Sara get a fair shake.
Food trucks lined the downtown streets, many sporting string lights or garlands of leaves, berries and twigs across the front of their trucks.
For the first time, Taylor noticed flags on the ornate light poles in the area. Had they been there before, or had they recently been put up now that Thanksgiving was two weeks away?
With messages like Better Together and Gather and Give Thanks, the colorful flags featured everything from autumn leaves to cornucopias and harvest scenes.
As Taylor reached the crowded town square, she was glad Jameson had specified meeting at the angel statue. Otherwise, she’d never have found him.
She was still a good twenty feet away when she spotted him, standing directly in front of the statue of the woman who, at significant personal risk, had nursed those who’d fallen ill from Spanish influenza over a century earlier. Dubbed the Angel of GraceTown, the statue, paid for by business leaders, had been erected in her image.
Taylor loved the inscription carved in the base:
Angel of GraceTown
You blessed us with your loving hands in our hour of need
We will remember you always
Taylor wove her way to Jameson, dressed casually in a gray Henley under a plaid flannel shirt, dark blue jeans and brown leather boots. His Carhartt jacket hung open.
She smiled when she reached him. “Who’d you catch doing something they shouldn’t have today?”
He flashed a smile. “I got some amazing photos of a guy chopping firewood. ”
“Can’t a man chop wood in peace?” she teased.
“Not when you’re drawing a hundred percent disability from your employer.” His gaze swept her from head to toe. “You look ready to step into a courtroom.”
“Hardly.” She chuckled, gesturing with one hand to her brown pants and gold sweater beneath the houndstooth jacket. “Though I’m definitely not dressed to chop wood.”
“I heard you met with Abigail. How did it go?”
“Let’s grab our food first,” she told him. “We’ll find a quiet place, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Once they got their fish tacos, they found a spot so far off the beaten path that they might as well have been in another universe.
Taylor had been determined to find somewhere they wouldn’t be overheard, and this lone picnic table far from the action met that need.
Jameson liked that it was private and quiet. Though laughter and voices could be heard, they were muted. Here, he could concentrate fully on Taylor as she explained what she and Abigail had discussed.
Her eyes sparkled, and she gestured with the hand holding her fish taco.
“I studied the principle of equitable distribution in preparation for meeting with Abigail, but listening to her only solidified how complicated it can be. I hope it works in Sara’s favor.” Taylor paused to take a bite of her fish taco, then washed it down with a large drink of cola.
Tendrils of blonde hair curled slightly in response to the humidity. She absently brushed the strands of hair aside. “Sara promised to gather the financial information we requested in preparation for the meeting at Abigail’s office on Monday. ”
“You’re excited about this.”
“I am.” She smiled. “I wasn’t sure how returning to GraceTown would be after all these years, but I’m enjoying it.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess, in a way, I am,” she admitted. “You know, I’d been gone so long that I’d convinced myself this was no longer home.”
He lifted his cup of soda but didn’t drink. “And now?”
“It’s starting to feel like home again. Being here has certainly brought the memories flooding back.” Taylor took another bite of her taco and chewed thoughtfully. “Do you ever look back on what happened with your parents and wonder if you saw things as they really were?”
The question, coming out of the blue, surprised him. He wasn’t sure where she was headed with this, but he was curious to find out.
Jameson shrugged. “I didn’t have the maturity to understand everything like I do now.”
After a long moment, she spoke again. “One of the things being here has done is it has forced me to confront my past. I’ve been looking back at what happened between my mom and dad and how I reacted.”
“I’m sure you did the best you could at the time.”
“Maybe.” Her teeth found her bottom lip. “Your parents disappointed you big-time. How did you deal?”
Jameson had been asked similar questions so many times in the days immediately following his mom and dad’s sudden departure from GraceTown. “That was a long time ago.”
She only continued to eat her taco, gazing at him expectantly.
“Well, I’m sure I dealt much the way you did when your parents split up,” he began. “I did my best to get through each day. I missed them and worried for their safety. They may have been criminals, but I loved them. They gave me a happy childhood.”
“But they left you,” she said.
“If they’d stayed, they’d have been immediately arrested, probably right before my eyes. They spared me that experience. By the time the police found them and took them into custody, I’d had a chance to absorb it all. That they’d swindled people out of large amounts of money was indisputable.”
“Yet, you’ve forgiven them.”
“They asked for my forgiveness. I gave it.” Jameson shrugged. “When they are released from prison, they’ll start new lives.”
“You’re a better person than me. I still haven’t forgiven my mom for leaving us. Sometimes I even think I hate her.” Taylor might have said more, but her phone rang. Muttering an oath under her breath, she sent the call straight to voice mail.
At his questioning look, she said simply, “My mother.”
“Say the devil’s name enough times…” Jameson smiled, but then quickly changed his expression. “I’m sorry. Bad joke. I didn’t mean any offense.”
“None taken.” Taylor waved her hand in the air. “I did just say that sometimes I hate her. I mean, it’s not that we don’t get along. It’s just that I was never a priority for her. Neither was my dad.”
Jameson smiled sympathetically, wanting her to know she could share her feelings and that he wouldn’t judge.
“But it was my choice to stay with my dad and not visit her,” she said finally. “She said she wouldn’t force me, and she didn’t. Yet, I still blame her.”
“You were a kid.”
“Back then, I was, yes.” Taylor sat back on the bench and expelled a breath. “What’s my excuse now?”