Chapter 1
I looked at the clock, it was 11:50. I put a smile on my face and turned back to Mr. Ramsey to explain the same thing for the third time. I told myself I could hold on for ten more minutes.
“Mr. Ramsey, once a document is filed in our public records, we cannot alter it in any way.”
Mr. Ramsey, his eyes bugging out, his teeth clenched, said, “I’m not selling the land, I’m giving it to my nephew. I shouldn’t have to spend money if I’m not making any. All you got to do is take my name off the deed and put his name on it! I’m not paying an attorney, God knows how much, for a piece of paper!” Mr. Ramsey stormed out of the office, muttering under his breath. I let out a long sigh and walked back to my desk.
My name is Claire Shannon. I’m a clerk in the County Clerk’s office in Allen Creek, Overly County, Texas. I’ve worked here for eleven years and most of our customers are nice and friendly people. Then, you have ones like Mr. Ramsey that test the limits of our patience. I glanced at the clock, five more minutes, and sat down.
I checked my email, saved the letter I was working on, and at 12:00 on the dot, I was up and out the door. I left the Courthouse and walked across the street to meet my friend Maggie for lunch. She was getting out of her car when I reached the cafe.
“I need a burger!”
“Oh no!” Maggie said, “Bad day?”
“No, a normal day with abnormal people,” I said, as we walked in and crossed to the counter to order. Bishop’s is a sandwich and pie shop across the street from the Courthouse. It’s close to work, the service is fast, and the food is good so we’re regulars here. There are eight tables spread across the room and ten booths against the west wall. The building is about a hundred years old. Several years ago, the owners tore out all the layers of reconstruction that had been done over those hundred years until they found the original walls and ceiling. They left it like that and filled the wide-open room with antiques. Old signs cover the walls and there’s a big hand-painted menu on the wall behind the counter listing sandwiches, salads, burgers, and pies. My usual order is a sandwich or salad; a burger is comfort food. I ordered a cheeseburger and Maggie ordered a salad. Her willpower is much stronger than mine. We sat down in a booth to wait for our food.
“So why do you need a burger today?” Maggie asked.
“Nothing big,” I said, “just frustration with work. People act like we’re the enemy, I just need to ignore them. It seems like some people get up in the morning wondering who they can butt heads with first. If no one comes to mind, they come to the Courthouse. So, what have you been doing this morning?”
“Well, all of those people that didn’t make it to the Courthouse came to the event center,” Maggie said. She is one of the coordinators at the new conference and event center north of town. “I’ve been trying to set RV reservations for the people coming in for the dog show next month and set up pens for the sheep show the week after that. I think it would be easier if the people just brought the dogs and sheep to us and left,” she said, shaking her head.
The waitress brought our food and we had started eating when I looked up and saw Carson Reid walk in the door. Carson is a local land surveyor and a regular at the office. He saw us and headed over to our booth. Everything about Carson is gorgeous. His brown hair is long and a little shaggy, his eyes are dark brown, and he has a beautiful smile. He was wearing worn blue jeans, scuffed boots, and a blue plaid flannel shirt over a local band T-shirt.
“Hey Claire, Maggie. How’s it going?” he asked.
“Good, just getting some lunch. How are you?” Maggie asked.
“I’m good. I’ll be over to dig through the books after I grab some lunch, Claire. I’ve been out looking at a farm with a new client. See you in a bit,” he said, and walked to the counter to order.
“So, you didn’t call me,” Maggie said, grinning, “how was Tuesday night?” Carson plays drums with a band at McGinty’s on Tuesday nights. McGinty’s is a local bar/café. Area bands take turns playing several nights a week, and Carson had invited me to go Tuesday night to hear his band.
“I had fun. The band was good. They have a good lead singer.”
“And. . .” Maggie said, grinning.
“And nothing. We shared a plate of nachos when the band took a break and I was home by 11:30. Get that look off your face, we’re just friends.”
“Well,” Maggie said, “that’s too bad. He looks too good to be just friends. But, if that’s the case, how’s Detective Turner?” she asked, with a smile.
After twenty-five years on the force, Sheriff Donald Brewster retired from the Overly County’s Sheriff’s Office. Chief Deputy Sam Ray ran for the office and won in the November election. Sheriff Ray brought in Detective Jack Turner from the Plano Police Department. Sheriff Ray had introduced Detective Turner to everyone at the Courthouse several weeks ago, and since then he’s stopped by the office a couple of times a week to say hello. He’s a very handsome man and has caused quite a stir with the ladies at the Courthouse. There might have been some casual flirting going on between us, but I promised myself I wouldn’t take it too seriously, I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one he was flirting with.
“Detective Turner seemed fine Friday when he dropped by. So,” I asked, “how’s the hospital benefit going?” I knew this was the best way to change the subject.
“Oh, let me show you the centerpieces I found for the tables,” she said, digging in her bag, “they’re perfect!” Half-way through the discussion on centerpieces my cell phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Claire, this is Nora.” Nora and I attend church together.
“Hey, Nora, how are you?”
“I’m good. I was wondering if you’ve talked to the rental place about the tablecloths?” Our church is having a potluck/gospel hour/silent auction a week from Saturday. The silent auction is raising money for the local boy’s and girl’s clubs. I’ve been helping Nora gather up everything we need for the tables.
“I called ‘Party Palace’ yesterday and reserved twenty tablecloths. We can pick them up the day before the dinner. I sent you an email about it.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ve been having problems getting my emails. I need to get Marcus to look at my computer. Will I see you Saturday morning?”
“I plan to be there.”
“Okay, bye.”
“That was Nora,” I explained, as I put my cell phone away, “I’ve been helping her with the potluck. We don’t have enough matching tablecloths for all of the tables, so we’re renting some for the day.”
“Let me know if you have trouble finding anything, I have tons of things in storage at the event center,” Maggie said.
Louise, owner and chief cook at Bishop’s Sandwich Shop, hurried over to our table at the same time Carson walked out the door. Louise is in her sixties, tall and rail-thin. She wears pastel knit pantsuits, white tennis shoes, and pearls every day. Her hair is cut in a shoulder-length page boy with short bangs and the color changes depending on which red rinse is on sale at the beauty supply store. She scooted me over and sat down.
“Okay, I heard you went out Tuesday night with that beautiful man that just left. I want the details.”
I laughed, “We did not go out. I went to McGinty’s to hear the band he was playing with. We talked when the band took a break, and I took myself home. We’re friends.”
“Well, that’s just wrong in so many ways. I heard you shared a plate of nachos, who paid?” I love living in a small town, but small-town gossip can get old fast.
“He paid.”
“Well, that’s a start. I don’t see any reason in the world not to be more than friends with that man. If I were younger, you wouldn’t have a chance.” With that said, she jumped up and hurried back to the kitchen.
Maggie and I spent the rest of our hour talking about flowers, tablecloths, and candles before we both headed back to work. I was back across the street and reaching for the door at the Courthouse when it swung open and knocked me down. A man stormed past me and down the sidewalk, completely ignoring me on the ground. I watched him march off hoping he wasn’t coming from my office. I stood up and brushed myself off and headed in. Five o’clock could not come soon enough!
Amy J Bryant 