Taking a Chance

By Renee Kumor

This second entry in the popular River Bend Chronicles gives us a growing relationship between Lynn Powers and police detective Dusty Reid -- along with two murders. It begins with a battered woman being taken to the local woman’s shelter, and Lynn recognizing her as a potential donor to the River Bend Philanthropies. What’s going on in this peaceful little town?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AbsolutelyAmazingEbooks.com
• Release date: May 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310003387

Renee Kumor

Renee Kumor has lived in North Carolina for over thirty years. The setting for the River Bend Chronicles series reflects her early life in Ohio and her later years in western North Carolina. She was a stay-at-home mom for several years developing a personal ethic of community service. Through the years as her children aged, she became active in the political and non-profit life of the community. She began writing a political opinion column for the local newspaper, but retired from writing when she announced her candidacy for local political office. After eight years as a county commissioner, she returned to non-profit service and began writing a monthly column for the newspaper on non-profit management and service issues. Renee has been married to her husband for forty-four years. They have four children and four grandchildren.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

"I smell money," Robert O’Hara crowed.

Why do you say that? asked Lynn Powers.

Robert was a prominent local attorney and chairman of the board of River Bend Philanthropies. Lynn was the Philanthropies executive director. They were rushing to meet the newest River Bend residents for lunch to talk about a donation to the foundation.

Why do I know they have money? Robert responded. I sit on the River Bend First Bank board. We get that kind of information.

You mean learning about new money in town is part of your agenda? Lynn asked. No, it’s part of the gossip before the meeting, answered Robert as he brought the car to a stop at the entrance of the country club dining room. They just deposited a substantial sum in the bank. They told the staff they’re planning to buy some property. Robert, a short, round man with a broad welcoming face, climbed out of the car as the valet assisted Lynn.

I need a few minutes to freshen up. Lynn had been running late all morning.

Robert escorted her into the building. As they parted, he said, Meet me in the bar.

In the restroom, Lynn checked her makeup and tried to bring some order to her hair. Since her return to River Bend last year her dark brown hair behaved as it had during her teen years. It was thick, shoulder length and randomly curly. Today her hair was on half curl, at least not looking as wild as it could on a full curl day. The lighting surrounding the mirror highlighted a face that was losing the honey color from her summer tan. In her teens she had experimented with all sorts of makeup, but her mother always said, Only use makeup to hide the flaws. You don’t have any flaws.

I do now, thought Lynn as she looked at a few creases around her eyes. It was a fortyish face, with a ready smile and dancing hazel eyes, all framed by her reckless, dark brown hair with some threads of gray. Humph, she thought to herself, it’s the only face I have so I ought to get serious about the way it looks. She opened her bag and pulled out a comb and some lip-gloss. As she worked at her hair she heard a woman in one of the stalls talking on a cell phone.

I don’t care. I want out of this marriage as soon as possible. The woman’s voice was tense. Earn your money. Solve my problem. The woman ended the conversation and pushed out of the stall. Dropping the phone into her bag, she hurried out of the restroom without noticing Lynn.

Finished adjusting her appearance and with a frown at her image in the mirror, Lynn left the lounge to search for Robert. There were many friends and acquaintances for Lynn to stop and greet as she edged toward the bar. She could see that Robert was already drinking with an unfamiliar gentleman. That must be our luncheon guest, she thought. As she approached the men, Lynn was startled to see them joined by a woman who smiled at Robert and affectionately kissed the other gentleman’s cheek. She was the same person Lynn had just seen in the women’s lounge. Lunch will be very interesting, she thought.

As luncheon host Robert took care of the introductions, making certain that he mentioned the Philanthropies at least four times. This is Celeste. Lynn shook hands with the woman. And this is Duke Masterson. Mr. Masterson moved a cane from his right hand to his left and took Lynn’s offered hand. Duke Masterson was a large, robust man. He had gray scattered through his full head of dark hair. The cane served to contain him, restraining what could have been an overwhelming vitality.

While their guests studied the menu, Lynn studied the woman. Celeste Masterson was petite and gaunt. The veins on her hands looked like small cords covered by skin; several fingers displayed marvelous rings. Her clothes were expensive and her hair was beauty salon auburn in a short style that showed off her graceful neck. The color of her luncheon outfit matched the highlights in her hair. Lynn wondered how Celeste’s fashion model perfection fit into the reality of the Mastersons’ marriage.

Robert was a genius at setting up the ask for Philanthropies funds. He arranged for the party to sit at an out-of-the-way table with a view of the golf course and the river beyond. The staff worked in partnership with Robert, watching for his signals as to when to approach the table because they knew Robert would leave a generous tip.

To start the conversation Lynn asked the Mastersons why they settled in River Bend. It’s such a charming town, replied Celeste. We have no family and no children, so we’re looking for a place to call home and spend the rest of our lives. She reached out to touch Duke’s hand and Lynn was again dazzled by the size of the solitaire on her finger.

Does that mean you’re retired? Lynn asked. You seem too young for that.

What a charmer! said Duke as he patted Celeste’s hand to acknowledge Lynn’s compliment. We’ve made our mark in business and find we can now enjoy ourselves.

What - - Robert started a question, his cherub face and silver hair giving him an innocent eagerness.

Duke interrupted. What do we plan to do with the rest of our lives? He looked at Robert. We’re going to buy one of those old houses at Dancing Creek and renovate it.

Celeste jumped in. It’s something we’ve always wanted to do. She gave Duke an affectionate smile, and then turned to Lynn. I’ll bet you can tell me something about that area.

Lynn related some of the history of Dancing Creek. The neighborhood gets its name from the small tributary that runs through the center, you know, with the boulevard on both sides. The surveyor who laid out the neighborhood used the stream as a linear park. A century ago those were the houses of River Bend leaders. I love those little stone bridges crisscrossing the creek - they’re just wide enough for a carriage to use.

Can’t you imagine the parties they must have had? Are there any neighborhood ghosts? Celeste smiled at the history lesson.

There may be ghosts. Dancing Creek Boulevard ends in a cemetery that was designed to look like a small park and serve as the resting place for residents of the neighborhood. It’s really connected to the larger River Bend cemetery over a small ridge, but the landscaping suggests that it’s a place apart. Even in death they’re elite, said Lynn as they waited for coffee to be poured.

As you approach the Dancing Creek entrance through that stone gateway, Lynn continued, you can see that access to the area was designed to be restrictive. Originally there was a dirt path used by the day help to walk from South End to the Dancing Creek mansions. Today that path is one of the busiest roads in River Bend, with the greenway running beside.

South End Highway? asked Duke, adjusting a Blackberry that rested against the breadbasket.

Correct, said Lynn. Her historic monologue used up most of the meal as she was interrupted frequently with general questions and comments from the Mastersons. Robert ordered a light dessert for everyone. Lynn knew this to be one of his tactics to extend the meal.

You have a fine history in this community, said Duke.

Celeste followed up. We appreciate communities that respect their heritage.

Robert nodded to Lynn. It was time for her to perform. The Philanthropies works with many groups regarding historic preservation. We’ve been negotiating management of the Taft estate and have taken the lead in putting it on the state’s Heritage Trails map. We’re developing an endowed fund to preserve other aspects of local history. Lynn stopped talking and waited for questions.

Duke abruptly placed his napkin on the table and stood up. Well, my dear, we must be going. He pocketed his Blackberry and pulled out Celeste’s chair.

Celeste stood. Thank you for the lovely lunch. We enjoyed meeting you. And they were gone. They barely avoided colliding with the waiter bringing dessert to the table.

Lynn had never seen anyone outmaneuver Robert as adroitly as the Mastersons had. Robert blustered with indignation and Lynn laughed at his fury. Face it, Robert, she said, we asked and they said no. Thinking about the incident in the women’s lounge, she added, Besides I think they’re not quite as they appear.

Robert vented his frustration as they walked through the bar, and he ranted all the way to the car and continued to express his opinion of their luncheon guests during the drive back to town.

≈≈≈

In the Mastersons' car, away from the curious eyes of the country club patrons, Celeste observed, Well, darling, as usual you managed to sidestep every question.

My pet, said Duke, I can only do that because you’re so skilled at taking my cues.

Bastard, hissed Celeste. When can we quit this charade?

Patience, my pet, Duke said. Let’s do this last adventure and then maybe you really can get rid of me. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it so that the rings Lynn had admired cut into Celeste’s fingers. She pulled her hand away and massaged it, not daring to return Duke’s hate filled gaze. They drove the rest of the way home in silence, each lost in thought.

Duke had started out as a real estate agent in Atlanta. He was there for the boom. He used to say that the only reason he didn’t make money twenty-four hours a day was because he had to sleep sometime. Duke tried to succeed in other cities that he thought might follow along with the explosive growth that Atlanta experienced, but he always seemed to get there a day late. Though never poor, he never seemed to have enough to live as comfortably as his clients.

Eventually Duke started running his deals close to the ethical edge. He found he could make more money that way. He had, more than once, altered property descriptions and sold property without clear titles. During the days of easy loans, he had done his share of manipulating mortgages. It didn’t matter to him that some of his former clients were currently facing bankruptcies or foreclosures. The first time he tipped over the edge, as he called it, he was working for Celeste’s father. He made a bundle. There was no regret.

Duke married Celeste in an effort to hide his schemes from her father, Barney Judsen. He became a partner in the real estate company and continued to cheat under the name of Judsen Properties. When Mr. Judsen learned what was happening to his trusted family company, he had a severe stroke. He now lived in a long-term care facility in a neighboring state.

Duke began controlling Celeste by threatening to reduce the quality of her father’s care. If Celeste challenged Duke, he warned that he would move her father to a crowded and understaffed facility. The physical abuse started about the same time.

≈≈≈

On the drive back to town Lynn was only half listening to Robert’s soliloquy as she enjoyed the view out her window. It was just a week before Halloween and the golden sunlight was dancing across the autumn colored countryside. The racing car caused leaves to scattered along the roadway. It was a glorious day.

Lynn had returned to her hometown last year, several months after she had been widowed and left alone to raise her teenage son. Her family’s position in the community opened up opportunities for her and she was hired for the job as executive director of the newly formed River Bend Philanthropies, a community foundation interested in keeping charitable funds in town. Raising her son, caring for her father and working at her new job defined her life in River Bend.

As Robert stopped the car at the Philanthropies’ office Lynn turned to him and said, Talking about Dancing Creek has made me think about Nathan Taft.

Nathan Taft was eager to put his family estate, Taft Manor, into the hands of the Philanthropies and have it be a key stop on the state’s historic preservation trail. He was purchasing one of the venerable mansions in Dancing Creek so that he could move from his family home. The decision to leave the estate and move into Dancing Creek would allow him to shepherd the preservation of his family estate while he was alive, not rely on others to get the job done after his death.

The historic preservation trail had been talked about for years. Once Nathan Taft put his name and money behind it, the idea took flight. Nathan didn’t like meetings and tolerated people only in small groups, so he had seen to it that Lynn was appointed his representative during statewide discussions of the visionary concept. The preservation work was now officially part of her Philanthropies job description.

Lynn said, Nathan says once he closes on the real estate, the renovations to his new place in Dancing Creek will take about eighteen months.

Eighteen months, my eye, snorted Robert. Nathan is so naive. A restoration like that will take almost three years. And, snarled Robert referring to the Mastersons, we’ll have to warn him about his neighbors.

≈≈≈

As the Mastersons drove toward home, Celeste tried to remember why marrying Duke had seemed right. It hadn’t been right, she knew now; but he had been so insistent, so charming. Once they were married she realized how wrong it all was. Her father had not liked Duke, but once they married Barney did all that he could to make Duke and Celeste comfortable, even turning over the management of the family firm to his son-in-law. As he learned of the real estate scams, Barney Judsen used personal money to make good Duke’s indiscreet ventures.

Slowly Barney’s wealth evaporated. He began working longer hours and finally his body made him quit. Celeste grieved over the loss of her father’s talent and guidance.

The last two years of their marriage had been imprisonment for both Barney and Celeste. She could not find a way to leave Duke and retain control of the remaining assets that had been taken from her father. Each time she found an attorney that she thought she could trust, it seemed that Duke had gotten there first. She tried women attorneys and Duke bedded them. She sought out old, trusted family friends, and Duke blackmailed them with secrets even Celeste didn’t know. Duke was always steps ahead.

Celeste became more and more withdrawn. Her most recent lawyer, the one she contacted in the country club restroom, had already texted Duke. She saw the message come in while at lunch. The small screen of his cell phone lit up and she and Duke, together, read the message. "Wife asking help in divorce. Send guidance." It was Duke’s practice to always place his cell nearby to see what activity was happening while he chatted and cheated clients. It showed the skills of Mr. and Mrs. Masterson that they never let their luncheon companions know the depth of their personal hatred for one another.

≈≈≈

The Mastersons had a six-month lease on a contemporary style house in the River Bend Country Club’s golf community. The story they were using was the one they told Robert and Lynn. They were shopping for an old River Bend mansion to renovate and live in for their retirement. The invitation by Robert O’Hara to lunch at the country club would go far to establish their credentials in River Bend. They attracted Robert’s attention by design. Duke knew that small town bank boards always gossiped about the financial situations of the wealthy in town. A deposit of substance by the Mastersons started the financial gossip.

Duke told Celeste that he was planning a real estate investment project in River Bend. After placing money in the bank for a month or two, he would unveil his scheme. If there were no interested investors, Duke said they would withdraw their cash and move to the next community on their research list. At least this was the outline as Duke described it, careful to keep details vague.

Celeste Masterson was getting to be an impediment to Duke’s success. Everything she did aggravated him, forcing him to administer regular punishment. But the assaults didn’t seem to be working. As they drove back to the rented house, Duke decided to move it up a notch. He was going to apply serious pain. She would quit rocking the boat with her antics. This divorce idea! Didn’t she realize he had all avenues blocked and had control of all assets? Didn’t she understand that he owned all of her family wealth? Didn’t she understand that without him that precious father of hers would be sitting in some bleak old age home with no income and no support? Duke smiled to himself. If Celeste continued to be a problem, he would move Barney to some far off, low rated nursing home and never tell her where her father was.

When the Mastersons arrived at the rented house, Duke didn’t use the garage door opener. He parked the car in front of the house as Celeste looked at him. I’m going out later, he explained. They left the car and walked in through the front door.

The house was arranged to take advantage of the views along the fairway. Walking into the foyer, a visitor was able to look through to the living room in the back of the house with its gabled glass wall. Although houses had been built only about one hundred-fifty feet off the fairway, the course had been landscaped so that each house had a view of what appeared to be a private garden. Only the random hole flag fluttering its siren call to duffers suggested that there was more to the landscaping than a garden.

Duke held the door for Celeste. She walked in and placed her shoulder bag on the small kitchen bar. As Duke closed the door she ran into the living room and up the stairs. Duke calmly removed his jacket and placed his keys on the bar. He put his cane, and his false infirmity, aside. He was bigger and faster and reached Celeste before she could lock the bedroom door.

CHAPTER TWO

In a vacant house in the River Bend Country Club community, Amelia Shipley, a cleaning lady, was looking out a window of the house studying the fairway and the flowers. Her life was so foreign to the grace and luxury around her. She and her husband had a contract with the country club’s gated community management to clean vacant homes and do limited maintenance. Amelia sighed as she stared out the window of the designer kitchen. Whoever called this their second home, Amelia presumed, had an even lovelier home somewhere else. She sighed again. Her husband, Scottie, was busy today with work in another part of the development. She would be alone and unsupervised for a few hours. In those hours she would get her work done efficiently and would imagine herself the hostess of each house she cleaned. It was a fantasy, but it was all she had.

One of her favorite views from this kitchen window was the elegant wood and glass wall of the neighboring house. The homes along the fairway were situated to provide privacy, but this house had a view from its kitchen of the neighboring house. The skylights in the vaulted ceiling of the house next door lit up the stairs as though they were bathed in a spotlight. Amelia was fascinated by how the stairs seemed to hover above the room. The sun highlighted the wooden treads and missed the dark metal risers that supported each step. It was as if the pads of wood floated in the air.

Amelia frowned reminding herself that there was work to do before Scottie returned with his usual insults and threats. Then she saw the woman in the neighboring house run up the floating stairs. Amelia watched her run to the upper landing. The woman had nice legs and was beautifully dressed. She was followed quickly by a large man also well dressed. He took the stairs two at a time and rushed onto a landing.

Although she had never seen the new tenants, she had cleaned the house before they arrived. Amelia knew the layout. At the top of the stairs there was an alcove on the left that led to the master suite. On the right was a loft area overlooking the room below and connecting the other two bedrooms with the stairs.

The man reached the top of the stairs and hurried into the master suite after the woman. Soon the woman appeared on the floor in the alcove, crawling toward the stairs. The man came out of the room and stood over her. He picked her up with one hand and slapped her face repeatedly with his open hand. Then he used his fist to hit her in the stomach.

Amelia gasped as she recognized the helplessness of the woman, now a limp mass of clothing and limbs. The man finished his systematic assault and fiercely threw the woman down the stairs. Amelia could see her lying on the living room floor, motionless.

Frozen in place, Amelia was mesmerized by the scene. She watched as the man disappeared into the master suite. Within minutes he returned to Amelia’s sight with a small overnight bag and a briefcase and bounced jauntily down the stairs. Stepping over the woman, he seemed to say something to her. Then reaching down he pulled jewelry from her hand. Amelia could see him wrench rings from the woman’s fingers. He couldn’t slide a bracelet from her wrist and angrily slammed her arm back to the floor. After one more glance at the woman, he walked to