“If you’re in the process of a divorce and you took a golf club to his things? Yes.”
She looked down into her lap.
“Would he willingly air his dirty laundry to punish you?” I asked.
She sat up straight, her head cocked, considering. “No. Image is everything to him. The asshat used to go shopping with me to make sure I dressed like a successful man’s wife.” She paused, her fingers tapping on the tabletop. “I doubt he’d want his clients to know why I did what I did.” She nodded slowly. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
My hand twitched, wanting to touch her again. Damn it. I wasn’t going down that road again. Not after Alice. “Are you visiting, or planning to stay awhile?”
“I want to stay. I don’t have anywhere else to go. I know Gran’s gone, but I was hoping—I don’t know. I was happy here once.”
I laughed. “You were a menace here once, Katie.”
Outraged, she said, “Menace? I was a sweet and charming addition to this community for two months every summer!”
Choking, I stood. “Sweet and charming? How many Fourth of July parades did you ruin?”
“Enhanced. The word you’re looking for is enhanced.”
Dropping back down in the chair, I fixed her with a stare. “Enhanced? When you stole Old Man Benson’s crickets and released them into the crowd, you believed that it improved their parade-viewing experience?” I paused, considering. “And how the hell did you end up on different floats every year? You were a member of the Kiwanas, the Elks, and a volunteer firefighter?”
She laughed, relaxing. “Good times. The kind and trusting people of this community welcomed me with open arms. It helps that they have short memories. Every summer, I’d promise that I’d learned the error of my ways, and they’d let me climb on their floats.” She grinned at the table, remembering.
“Crickets?”
“Do you know what he planned to do with those poor little crickets? He was going to skewer them with a fishing hook. I heard him talking to Gramps outside the bait shop. He had a big container of live crickets that he and his buddy were going to use the next day on their fishing trip.” She shook her head. “While they chatted, I grabbed the bin out of the back of his truck and ran to the parade. It was a crime of opportunity. Anyway, I was like seven or eight at the time. Hasn’t the statute of limitations run out on that one?”
“Perhaps. What about the rubber balls?”
She tried to hide her guilty expression. “Who doesn’t like bouncy balls?”
“Off the top of my head, I’d say the guy driving the tractor directly behind your float. When you sent hundreds of bouncy balls in every direction, quite a few bounced into his engine. You broke his damn tractor.”
Cringing, she said, “Not broke. They were able to fix it. I screwed up the parade, though. It took a while to get the tractor moved so the rest of the floats could go by. On the bright side, people had bouncy balls to play with while they waited.”
“Where did you even get hundreds of balls?”
“Brought them with me. It was some kind of ordering mistake at my parents’ university. I think they were supposed to be ordering condoms but checked the wrong box. I don’t know. I was nine. There were boxes of bouncy balls sitting in the back of the administration building.” She looked at me, wide-eyed. “What was I supposed to do? Just leave them there?”
“Yes.”
“P’fft. I filled my backpack and a plan began to form.”
I shook my head. “Like I said, menace.”
She waved away my concerns. “I worked all summer at Mr. Sheets’s ranch to pay for the tractor repair.”
“You did?”
“Oh, sure.” She grinned. “He was only annoyed with me that first day, though. I went from mucking out the stables and polishing the tools to apple picking and horse brushing. Fun summer.”
Her expression shifted, memories scattering. “I thought—with everything going on—I could start over here.” She shook her head, shrugging. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
I ignored a twinge of sympathy for Katie, closing my portfolio. “You’re going to your grandmother’s?”
“Yeah. She left me her house. Not him, not us, just me.” She clenched her hands in her lap. “I don’t know if that’ll work, though. California is a no-fault, community-property state. My lawyer is—well, she’s doing what she can.” She moved her foot and her dog groaned at having his pillow taken away. “I promise, though. My lawbreaking days are behind me. I’ll be a model citizen.” She paused, looking like she was waiting for me to throw her out of town. When I didn’t, she said, “So, is it okay? Can I go?” She bit her lip, and I looked away.
Standing, I moved toward the door. “Yes, but only because charges were never filed. I guess your husband forgave you.”
