“Tomorrow,” she said. Tomorrow the remains of the building would be hauled away, and in the spring, her dream of a patio would become a reality.
It was amazing what could happen when a community mobilized around a common goal. Her parents had attended the demolition ceremony, along with Caleb and Quinn, representatives from a number of community organizations, the VP of Community Engagement for Mobile Media, board members from the SCC, the East Side’s city councilwoman, and the community relations liaison from the police department. An East Side landscaping company offered to do the brick patio at a steep discount in exchange for a tasteful banner mentioning their work and a few mentions on social networking sites. The city’s last remaining ironwork shop offered the same deal for the railing. As word spread on Twitter and Facebook, every known band in the city contacted her for a gig next summer. Maud Ward agreed to open the summer concert series to kick off the tour for her new album. Eve’s mother had not only volunteered to put her master gardener skills to use at Eye Candy to design and maintain the oversized flowering pots that would line the wrought iron fence, she also put together a team from the Lancaster Garden Club to mentor East Side teens and families interested in caring for a series of planters lining Thirteenth Street.
Not once did she mention Eve’s job or single status.
But despite all the press for Eye Candy, Eve had seen neither hide nor hair of Matt Dorchester in the three weeks since she’d climbed into the ambulance transporting her father to the hospital, and she wouldn’t push. She was a lifelong Eastie with a thriving business. He knew where to find her, if he wanted to.
The fall breeze caught Caleb’s red silk tie. He smoothed it down. “Are you the first person on the East Side to organize a demolition party?”
She smiled. “Maybe,” she said. “I hope I’m not the last.”
He gave her a quick look. “Sleeping any better?”
“A little.” Half her dreams were of the business end of a semiautomatic pistol, of the gun clenched in Lyle’s fist and swinging at her head, of her father’s pale, clammy face. Loud noises made her jump. The bruise on her face got double takes at the bank and the supermarket, concerned inquiries from customers, and when the whole story broke in the news, a flood of publicity that took days to handle, which was fine, because she wasn’t sleeping much anyway.
For the first time in weeks, standing outside was a pleasant activity. Summer’s heat and threat were both gone, replaced by fall’s crisp air and deep blue skies, and a sense of possibility for the East Side’s revitalization. Before the demolition ceremony she’d gone out to pick up the sandwiches donated by Henry from Two Slices, and cupcakes donated by Cindy’s Cinful Cupcakes. According to Henry and Cindy, traffic was up at both locations, and optimism and purpose infused the East Side’s main shopping district. For a moment, for just one moment in her afternoon, she let herself savor the victory.
Heels tapped briskly across the storeroom’s cement floor, too brisk to be Natalie. Eve and Caleb turned in unison to find Sorenson behind them, wearing a navy suit the same shade as Caleb’s.
“Hi,” Eve said. “Thanks again for coming to the demo ceremony. It meant a lot to me.”
“It was a good chance to get reacquainted with some of the community leaders,” Sorenson said. “We’re looking into the matter we discussed a few weeks ago.”
The corruption festering in the Eastern Precinct. Caleb perked up, but Eve didn’t give anything away. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll do what I can to help.”
Sorenson’s visit wasn’t her first, or the only, from a member of the Lancaster Police Department. Lieutenant Hawthorn, Captain Whitmore, and several stone-faced officers from Internal Affairs had visited at other times, all asking the same questions about the shooting at the warehouse, and with the exception of Sorenson and Lieutenant Hawthorn, all carefully probing to see how she intended to portray the department in the upcoming media storm. Her responses to any and all questions followed the same basic script: “The Lancaster Police Department and the East Side citizens worked together in unprecedented and productive ways to stop a threat to our community. We hope that this is a sign of continued engagement and partnership.”
“Care to clue me in?” Caleb said mildly, turning an inquisitive eye to Eve.
“That’s up to Detective Sorenson,” Eve said.
Caleb turned to Sorenson and lifted his eyebrows.
“I think not, Counselor,” Sorenson said in a tone as smooth as silk. She shot Caleb a look obscured to Eve by the setting sun, but something about it made her brother go still. “Keep in touch, Eve.”
“You too, Jo,” Eve replied.