The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,35

morning.

CASS AWOKE WITH a start. Her glass-block window showed it was still dark outside, and she glanced at her digital clock. The red numerals read 4:18. A dream had awakened her. A very odd dream.

She lay in bed, unmoving, and mulled over the contents. They’d been walking through a rose garden, she and the Senator, strolling along and enjoying the beauty and fragrance of the flowers.

“I heard you calling,” he’d said.

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“I didn’t want to frighten you. And, too, I wasn’t truly sure you wanted me to answer.”

“I suspect you’re right.” She laughed at herself. “I’m not frightened of you now. I had a question to ask you.”

He smiled. “About my hair.”

“Yes.”

“Appearances don’t matter very much. What’s inside is what counts. Wherever I am, however I look, I’m your father, and I love you very much. Had you rather see me this way?” His appearance suddenly changed from a distinguished older man with gray hair to a much younger man with dark hair who favored Sam Outlaw a great deal.

She gasped at the sudden and startling transformation.

“Or this way?” He turned back into the gray-haired man. “Which one seems like your father?”

“The later, of course. I understand,” she said. “You’ve aged along with us for our sakes. Which are you really?”

“I’m both. And neither. But I’m always around when you and Sunny call. At least for now.” In the dream he’d broken off a rose and put it in Cass’s hair. “It’s important for you to always remember to follow your heart. Don’t forget that.”

Now, in her bedroom, she could still smell the sweet scent of the rose, but when she reached for it in her hair, it wasn’t there.

Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Daddy,” she whispered into the dark.

AT TEN O’CLOCK, CASS called the meeting to order. Five members of the board, Karen and herself were present. Gordon Velt, a sociology professor at UT and vice president of the board, was out of town. The others were Anita Rojas, a real estate agent; Herman Jacobs, an arborist; Martin Sevier, publisher of a weekly newspaper; and Louella Johnson, a retired school librarian who served as treasurer. Several other members of their organization served in advisory positions and headed various committees, but weren’t in attendance.

After getting through their usual agenda, including learning from Louella about a treasury that needed a few more healthy donations, Anita, the real estate agent, brought something to their attention. “Scuttlebutt has it that a representative of outside interests is in town checking out several commercial sites suitable for a new high-rise.”

Herman and Martin groaned. “Just what we need,” Herman said. “Do you know which sites?”

“Those I know about—one on West Ninth and one on Guadalupe—probably aren’t of specific interest to us,” Anita said. “I don’t know what other properties might be involved through direct negotiations with owners.”

“Do you know who the party is or what company he or she represents?” Cass asked.

Anita shook her head. “Sorry. The agent involved is keeping the information close to his vest. I’ll stay alert and see if I can find out. As soon as I know anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Do that,” Cass said. “And I’ll get Darlene’s development committee busy beating the bushes for funds for the coffer in case we have a fight on our hands.”

“Which we will,” Martin said, “sooner or later.”

“We’ve had another offer to buy the Chili Witches property,” Cass told them. “I wonder if it’s the same firm as the person in town scouting out sites.”

“You’re not going to sell, are you?” Martin asked.

“When pigs fly,” Cass said. “Any other business?”

They discussed three other minor concerns, then ended the meeting.

Anita stopped Cass on their way out. “Are you interested in selling either this property or the one next door? I have a client who may be interested in one or both houses.”

“I don’t think so. I plan to live here and rent out the other one. Things have been pretty hectic lately, and I haven’t been able to meet with the contractor to start renovations. Hopefully, I can get on it soon and be ready to move in by the end of summer.”

“I heard about the flood at Chili Witches,” Martin said. “Is everything okay now?”

“Yes, we’re reopening today.”

“I understand it was malicious mischief. Do the police have any suspects?”

“Not that we’ve heard,” Cass said.

“You mean it was deliberate?” Anita asked.

Cass nodded.

“Do you think it has anything to do with your being president of POAC?”

“I hope not, but I have no way