Dark Corner Part 4

She favored him with another dazzling smile. "Sorry about that. I usually let Princess run loose when I'm here. She doesn't bite."

"So she's named Princess? That's kinda funny. King, meet Princess." He thought he sounded corny, but no other witty comments came to mind.

Smiling again, the woman unwound from her cross legged sitting position and stretched her legs in front of her. He tried to avoid staring at her, but it was impossible. She was lovely. Dressed in denim shorts and a yellow tank top, she had mahogany skin and a toned, shapely figure-a physique like an aerobics instructor or a track runner. Her dark brown hair was tied into a ponytail that dangled to the middle of her back.

Best of all, she didn't wear a wedding band on her ring finger. Thank you, G.o.d.

There was a moment of silence, in which he realized, with some surprise, that she was checking him out as openly as he was admiring her.

"Our dogs have introduced themselves," she said, and he caught her soft Mississippi accent. "How about we introduce ourselves to each other?"

He knelt on the gra.s.s and extended his hand. "I'm David Hunter."

"Nice meeting you, David. I'm Nia James"

He thought he felt electricity when their hands touched, but maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. However, their handshake did last a second or two longer than was customary.

"I haven't seen you in town before," she said. "I would've remembered seeing you"

Heat flushed his face. She was flirting with him, shamelessly. He felt as shocked as the cla.s.s nerd who learned that the school's most popular cheerleader had a crush on him.

"I only moved here yesterday," he said. "I live on Hunter Drive, and in the Hunter house, actually."

She blinked. "You're related to Richard Hunter?"

"He was my father."

"Oh, my G.o.d" She put her hands to her mouth, blushing. She grabbed the hardcover book beside her and showed him the front cover. It was one of his father's controversial, bestselling novels, ent.i.tled Coloreds Only.

"I've read all his books, many of them twice," she said. "He was brilliant, an amazing writer." She put her hand on her chest and appeared to regain her bearings. "I'm so sorry about what happened to him. That was a terrible accident."

He nodded somberly. "Did you know my father?"

"Not really. I saw him around town all the time, of course, but I only spoke to him once or twice. He signed my book." She cracked open the cover. He read the inscription on the fly page, "To Nia, the prettiest girl in town, who has great taste in literature." It seemed a typical comment for his father to make. His dad had been a notorious ladies' man, though Nia was surely no older than twenty-six or twentyseven, young enough to be his daughter.

"You favor him, you know," she said. "I've seen photos of Mr. Hunter when he was in his twenties. You could be his twin."

"So I've heard. To be honest, I didn't know my father well. He was pretty much a stranger to me" He was rarely so open with a new acquaintance, but something made it easy for him to trust this woman. She radiated a comforting aura.

"I'm sorry. I know how that feels, sort of. My father died when I was a little girl. I only have these vague memories of what he was like."

"How long have you lived here?" he said.

She laughed. "I'm a homegirl, David. I've been here all my life, mostly. I grew up here, went away for college at Jackson State, then moved to Houston for a few years ... but that didn't work out-long story, there" She shrugged. "I've been staying with my mom for the past year that I've been back"

"Do you plan to stay here for a while?"

"Maybe another year or two. Mason's Corner is a nice, quiet town, but I think it's obvious that there isn't much to do here, socially or otherwise. I've been thinking of moving to Atlanta."

"Really? I'm from Atlanta."

"And you gave up the ATL to live here?" She reached for ward and placed her warm palm against his forehead. "Are you sick?" She laughed.

He chuckled. "It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you later. How about ... over lunch?"

"I'd like that," she said, and wriggled her toes in the gra.s.s. Her bare feet were smooth, with crimson, pedicured toenails. A gold anklet glittered around her slender ankle.

Talk about a stroke of good luck. He could hardly believe that a routine walk in the park had brought him face-to-face with such a fine woman. But he had an inexplicable feeling that he and Nia were meant to meet; intuition told him that it was destiny.

His rational mind, however, told him that he was only infatuated.

Still, he decided to push his luck one step further. "Cool, so are you free for lunch this afternoon?"

A dimpled smile curved across her face.

"One o'clock," she said.

As was his habit on Sat.u.r.day mornings, Franklin Bennett rode his Schwinn bicycle downtown. He enjoyed the exercise, and, even better, catching the latest gossip.

Franklin loved Dark Corner on summer mornings. On such mornings, the town moved at a slower pace than usual (which was really slow), folks sitting on their porches, sipping coffee and reading the Chester County Ledger. Others were busy with yard work. Children played in the streets. Many people, children and adults alike, waved at Franklin as he zipped past. He returned the greetings. Riding his bicycle made him feel like a youth again, cruising throughout town.

When he reached Main Street, he pedaled to Shirley's Diner.

"Morning, folks," Franklin said. A scattered chorus of "Morning, Doc," greeted him. Shirley's was a simple place: a ceramic counter wound along one side of the restaurant, with about ten stools in front of it. Throughout the middle, a row of tables stood; along the opposite wall, there were vinyl booths.

The delicious aroma of eggs, hash browns, sizzling meat, and coffee wafted through the air.

Every customer there was a regular, mostly men, who breakfasted there so often the waitresses didn't need to ask what they were ordering, because they always requested the same meal. One of the waitresses on duty, a busty woman named Gloria, brushed past Franklin balancing three plates in her hands. "Scrambleds and ham coming right up, sugar," she said to him, and winked.

Franklin looked for a seat. Typically, he liked to eat with a different person each time he visited. Everyone had a unique, fascinating story to tell, and all of it was a piece of town history, in one way or another. He had become an expert on the history of Mason's Corner, not from reading books, but from talking to a vast array of people.

He spotted Van Jackson, the police chief, in a corner booth, sipping coffee and reading the paper.

"Mind if I sit with you a spell, Chief?" Franklin said.

"Sure, Doc. Have a seat"

Van Jackson had been the police chief for eleven years. Before him, his father had been the chief. Balding and in his forties, Jackson had a long face that always seemed to be stretched into a sad expression, as if he had recently received bad news. Some of the folks called him "Sad" Jackson. He was a somber man, but he had a sharp mind. Franklin enjoyed talking to him.

Gloria slapped down a gla.s.s of orange juice in front of Franklin, then refreshed Jackson's coffee. Jackson folded his paper.

"How are things?" Franklin said.

Jackson added cream to his coffee. "Things are things, Doc. Ain't nothing much happening here. The usual mess."

"I have a new neighbor," Franklin said. "David Hunter. He moved into his father's house"

"Is that so?" Jackson raised his eyebrows. "Knew Hunter had a boy, but I ain't never seen him. Moved into his family's place, did he?"

"He arrived yesterday. He's a nice young man, friendly."

"Wife, kids?"

"He's a bachelor."

"Oh, Lord. Ruby's gonna hound him to death. She's a sweetheart"

Van Jackson's wife had died of cancer two years ago, leaving him to raise his teenage son by himself. Ruby, convinced that a single man was a dead loss in the kitchen, had constantly nagged Jackson about joining them for dinner. Jackson had accepted her offer a handful of times, but he didn't need Ruby to cook for him anymore. Word was that the chief was dating Belinda Moss, the town librarian.

"I'll stop by to say h.e.l.lo to the Hunter boy," Jackson said. "He's the kid of the only celebrity this town's ever had. Reckon that merits a welcoming party from the chief."

"That would be good of you," Franklin said. A minute later, Gloria appeared and placed a plate heaped with scrambled eggs, country ham, hash browns, and b.u.t.termilk biscuits in front of Franklin. Franklin began to b.u.t.ter a biscuit.

"The Hunter boy ain't the only new resident we have," Jackson said. He sipped his coffee. "Someone's moved into the Mason place."

Franklin dropped his b.u.t.ter knife. It clanged against the plate.

"Yeah, I 'bout spilled my coffee when Wilson told me," Jackson said.

Roseber Wilson was a real estate agent who handled transactions for most of the properties in town, including Jubilee, the Mason estate.

"Who moved there?" Franklin picked up his knife again.

"Black man with a funny accent, Wilson said. Sounded like he was from France. Can you imagine that? Ain't never heard a black man with a French accent, though I know we got black folk over there"

"Have you seen this Frenchman?"

"Seen him driving around. Got one of them big Lexus SUVs. I ain't talked to him, though, or seen anyone with him."

"Odd" Franklin dug into his eggs. "I wonder why he chose the Mason place."

"He ain't buying it, Wilson said. Said he was only gonna rent it for a few months. He was real secretive, wouldn't tell Wilson much about his business."

"Strange, indeed," Franklin said. "Renting an enormous, dilapidated property like that for only a few months. I wonder if this fellow is aware of Jubilee's reputation."

Jackson shrugged. He looked out the plate-gla.s.s window. He glanced at Franklin and nodded, indicating that Franklin should check outside.

Across the street, a silver Lexus sport utility parked in front of the hardware store. A broad-shouldered, dark-skinned man with a shiny bald head climbed out of the vehicle. He was sharply dressed in a gray suit. He strode purposefully into the store.

Franklin frowned. Hearing this news about the Mason place and seeing the mysterious new resident made him uneasy, though he could not place his finger on why. Maybe because it didn't make sense. A foreigner renting an antebellum mansion in rural Mississippi? Either he was planning to refurbish the place and turn it into a tour destination, or he was up to something he had no business doing.

I should not leap to such conclusions, Franklin admonished himself. The fellow could be an upstanding gentleman with a legitimate interest in the property and the town. He was allowing small-town xenophobia to color his thoughts.

However, Van Jackson was frowning, too.

"Excuse me, Doc," Jackson said. He put on his hat. "I've fiddled away enough of the town's money this morning. Got to get back to work"

"See you around, Chief." Franklin watched him leave. He noticed that the chief kept his attention riveted on the hardware store across the street.

Franklin could not help himself. The chief was suspicious. Now, so was he.

What was the man doing at the Mason place?

At one o'clock sharp, David parked in front of MacDaddy's Barbecue. As he climbed out of the Pathfinder, a green Honda Civic pulled into the parking spot near him. Nia stepped out.

"Right on time," she said.

She had changed into a pink blouse, khaki shorts, and sandals. She had let down her hair, too. It flowed to her shoulders in curly waves.

"My father was right," David said. "You are the prettiest girl in town"

She smiled. He opened the restaurant's gla.s.s door for her, and they went inside.

It was a small, neat place, with lots of windows. From the size of the take-out counter it appeared that they did a lot of carry-out business, but there were tables s.p.a.ced throughout the dining area. The mouthwatering aroma of barbecue spiced the air.

The restaurant was busy. People were lined up at the carry-out counter, and all the tables except one were full. David and Nia grabbed the only vacant table, in the corner.

David picked up the single-page menus that lay nestled between the salt-and-pepper shakers.

"I already know what I'm going to eat," she said. "The catfish sandwich is delicious. I grew up on them"

"Then I'll get the same," he said.

A waitress came to take their orders. They asked for the catfish sandwiches, and sweet tea. The server returned quickly with the drinks.

As they sipped tea, their gazes met. They watched each other for a long, quiet moment, a pleasant tingling building in David's stomach.

He felt as though he were in a movie, one of those sappy romantic comedies like Sleepless in Seattle. He had never had an experience like this with a woman, and it frightened and thrilled him all at once.

Then, at the same time, they smiled-in unspoken acknowledgment of the rare chemistry that coursed between them like electrical current.

"So," Nia said. "You were going to tell me why you moved to Mason's Corner."

He put down the gla.s.s of tea. "Well, it's because of my father. I mentioned before that I never knew him that well. I decided to come here and get to know him, I guess. By living in the same house and being in the town where he spent so much of his life, I'm hoping to .. ." He made a grasping motion with his hand, straining to find the right words to express himself.

"Understand him?" she said.

"That's part of it. Understand him-and understand myself. Because I'm his son, I think I've picked up certain habits, talents, and quirks from my dad. For example, he used to drink strong, black coffee, never adding sugar or cream. When I was a kid, I used to think it was disgusting. Now, guess how I always drink my coffee?"

"Strong, no sugar, no cream?"

He snapped his fingers. "Exactly. I never thought I'd like coffee that way, but it's the only way I like to drink it now. And there're a bunch of other things I think I've picked up from my father, subconsciously. I'll never learn everything about him, but if I can just learn more ... it's important to me, Nia. I can't explain it any other way."

"I understand what you mean," she said. "I really admire you for having the self-awareness and the guts to come here and sort of absorb yourself in his life. That says a lot about you"

"I didn't have anything pinning me down in Atlanta. My mom and my sister live there, but they're doing fine. I'm self-employed and can do my work from anywhere. If there was ever a time to do some exploring, this is it."

"What kind of work do you do?"