Summer Of Joanna

Collier broke the silence. “As much as we all want to have an answer for this…tragic situation, sometimes there just isn’t one that we can accept with any degree of comprehension.” He paused, then continued, “Now, about this piece of property, Miss Reilly. I’m not certain of the current market value because I understand that it’s been closed as a resort for several years. Most likely you’ll want to sell it, and I’d be happy to have someone give you an estimate of its worth.”

Kate’s head shot up. “Oh! I…I’ve scarcely had time to think about even owning Camp Limberlost, much less selling it.”

Collier chuckled. “I suppose all this does take time, but the summer will be the best season to show the property and all its potential.” He looked to Lance for agreement.

Lance simply nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on Kate. He wasn’t signaling his feelings about the camp either way, Kate realized. She had no idea how he felt about her inheriting it. Tongue-tied, she stared at the men.

“Owning it will most likely prove to be a greater disadvantage than asset,” Collier added. His voice dripped like honey from a spoon.

“I know Joanna hasn’t spent any time there since her father died almost eight years ago. And he closed it down a couple years before that, so…” Lance shrugged.

“I’ve heard the whole area has gone downhill,” Collier said, glancing at Lance and shaking his head. “Too bad. I understand it was once a prime resort.”

“I think so,” Lance murmured. He smiled across the table at Kate. “You’ll want to take a few days for this,” he assured her. “To let it all sink in. Believe me, as a developer, I know only too well what a headache owning a piece of property can be. Especially land and buildings that have been neglected. Let Greg—or me—know as soon as possible. We’ll help you get the best possible price for it.”

Collier nodded heartily. “Always available.” He pushed his chair back and stood up. “Now, if you’ll pardon me, I must get back to work.”

Kate struggled to her feet. These two were good, she decided. If they shoved a dotted line at her at that moment, she was certain she’d sign without a second glance. Except for a sudden clarifying thought. If Joanna willed Camp Limberlost to me, she must have really wanted me to have it. So no way am I going to give it up that easily.

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Collier. I promise to get back to you as soon as is realistically possible.”

He patted her arm. “You do that, my dear,” he said, and left the room.

Kate reached for her purse, slung across the back of her chair. She felt Marchant’s eyes on her and, when she straightened, knew from the amusement in his face that her own was beet red.

“Collier can be…well, shall I say, a bit paternal.”

“Is he a personal friend?” Kate asked.

“Only socially—he’s my lawyer, too, of course.”

“Oh,” she murmured.

“Which doesn’t mean that I can’t be objective about all this.” He waved his hand into the room.

Confused, Kate followed the movement.

“The will—the inheritances and so on,” he explained. “Joanna and I agreed when we got married that we’d each hold on to our own assets. Of course—” his voice dropped and he lowered his head “—we’d been discussing any future possibility of divorce, not…death.” When he raised his head, his eyes were red-rimmed and tired. He managed a faint smile. “You obviously meant a lot to Joanna for her to include you in her will. And I know at some point in time that camp of her parents must have been worth a lot. It’s just that—” he paused to shake his head “—Joanna was sometimes prone to what we used to call flights of fancy. A real romantic.”

Kate felt herself nod, though she wasn’t certain she agreed. The Joanna she remembered had seemed to have both feet firmly planted in the real world and to know exactly what she wanted.

“At any rate, I think the occasion of an inheritance, whatever that inheritance may be, is cause for celebration. I’d be honored if you’d be my guest for lunch.”

The invitation capped a morning of surprises. Kate heard herself consent before she had time to even process the invitation. As she left the boardroom, Lance Marchant’s hand guiding her at the small of her back, she had the feeling she’d played her cards exactly the way the two men had anticipated.

CHAPTER THREE

PARTWAY THROUGH LUNCH, Kate felt herself begin to unwind. She sipped her white wine, chosen after much deliberation by Lance. The ritual had amused Kate. She knew little about wine and was certain her own choice would have been based strictly on cost. The meal was impeccable, too. Another score for Lance, who was obviously a regular at the upscale restaurant, one Kate had read about in the papers, never imagining she might be eating in it some day.

In fact, there’d been so much deference shown to Lance as soon as they’d stepped inside that Kate began to wonder if he was a celebrity in his own right, regardless of his connection to Joanna Barnes. She pondered this throughout the salad course, racking her brain to determine where and when she’d seen or heard his name. She also scolded herself sharply for not reading the papers more carefully. Headlines were her specialty, along with a skim through the fashion and entertainment pages.

She began to think that maybe Lance Marchant was okay, after all, in spite of his smooth manner. Before ordering, they’d made small talk, discreetly skirting around the morning’s events as if none of the business of death had taken place.

As the salad plates were removed, Lance referred to Camp Limberlost and Kate thought, here we go again. But rather than renew his pitch for selling it, he’d asked what she recalled of the camp.

“I didn’t like it at the time—not until I met Joanna.”

“She was there? When was this, exactly?”

“Nineteen years ago this month. What year would that be?” She screwed up her face, mentally counting backward.

“It would have been 1982.”

Kate laughed. “That was fast. You should be teaching my grade eight math class.”

He gave a dismissive shrug. “I use numbers all the time in my job. Were you there with your family?”

“No. I was with a bunch of kids from here in the city. Courtesy of a joint social-service program and the generosity of Joanna’s parents.”

Marchant frowned. “Oh. You mean like…”

“Kids with problems. Not delinquents,” she added quickly, noting the expression in his face. “But, you know, kids at risk.”

He nodded. “I don’t mean to be nosy. Just didn’t realize Joanna’s parents were into that sort of thing.”

Kate was tempted to ask, “Like charity?” but sensed he really wasn’t being insensitive. Besides, she wanted to think she’d grown out of all that stuff—the feelings of defensiveness, of apologizing for being an orphan on the social welfare register.

“Did you know Joanna then?” she asked.

He nodded. “Joanna and I go—went—a long way back. But we weren’t dating or anything. Just friends.”

“Have you ever been to Limberlost?”

“I’m a city man. My idea of a holiday is a resort on some Caribbean island, five-star and all-inclusive.”

She joined in his laughter. “You and Joanna both, I’m sure.”

His face sobered. “Yes, for sure. That’s why I can’t figure out her being there. She always talked about how she’d made the Great Escape.”

“I remember her mentioning that she was between husbands then. I thought that was such a daring thing to say—to a kid, I mean.”

Lance opened his mouth as if to add something, but the waiter arrived with their main courses and the next few moments were devoted to murmurings about the food. Kate had almost forgotten what they’d been discussing when he asked, toward the end of the meal, “Do you remember much about that summer? How old would you have been? Don’t answer if you consider that a rude question,” he said, grinning.

The way he put it, refusing to answer would seem childish. “I was turning twelve in August. That’s why we decided to meet this year.” Kate angled her fork across her plate and leaned forward. “I was on the verge of adolescence and Joanna had just turned thirty. We’d been moaning about our problems and getting older et cetera and she said, wouldn’t it be great to meet when we were both at another milestone? To compare notes on how things had turned out.”

“I guess your memory of the place wouldn’t be very vivid.”

Kate laughed. “Oh, it’s pretty vivid even now, trust me.”