Beads of Doubt Read Free Page B

and functioning smoothly. I fought off termites, black mold, and the city council that wanted to “annex” half the grounds for some electrical substation. I even cleaned almost every inch of it on my hands and knees.
    In the end it was all worth it. The Manse is now beautifully restored, and I’ve added modern conveniences to boot. The kitchen isn’t up to par appearancewise yet, but it will be eventually. We’ve turned the gatehouse into a little charmer. Before it had been nothing more than a large toolshed with a small mudroom. Some of the walls hadn’t even been finished. Now it is elegant and charming. There are pegged hardwood floors, a fireplace, a small but colorful kitchen, a spa bath, and a brick patio out back. We’ve put up window boxes and added a flower-bordered walkway from the front gate. Mother and I did much of the planting and decorating together. She calls it her nest, and I couldn’t stand the thought of her losing it.
    Which is why I had to get moving. I’d bet my hormone pills that if Houston got the Manse my mother would be out of the gatehouse and looking for a place to live before her next phone bill was due. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
    “Who is this lawyer?” Mother asked.
    “His name was Warrington, I think. No, it’s Harrington.”
    “Not Edward Harrington?” She suddenly looked wary.
    “I don’t think so,” I said, only because it seemed important to reassure her. “Why? Do you know an Edward Harrington?”
    “A little. From years ago when your father was in office. But how can you go see the man if you can’t remember his name?”
    “I have his address written down,” I said, waving my purse. “Mother, don’t worry. Everything is under control. Really. Tell her, Beth.”
    Before Beth could speak my mother said, “Beth, maybe you can talk some sense into Kitzi.”
    “It would be a first,” Beth said. “I could chauffeur her, though, which might get her back faster.”
    “Is that fast?” My mother looked at Beth’s red PT Cruiser and shook her head. “I would think it’s a little young for you, but you’re going through a trying time.”
    “We’ll hurry,” I called over my shoulder as I moved toward the driveway. “I have my cell phone if you need me.”
    “Guess she didn’t like my car,” Beth said, popping on the oversized glasses and climbing into the Cruiser.
    “As we’ve noted before, she’s a tad more conservative than we are. Don’t take it personally.”
    “I don’t. So where am I taking you?”
    “We’re going to see Houston and wreak some havoc.”
    “My kind of day.”

Three
    I spent most of the trip to Houston’s office trying to explain to Beth the shares and how they are voted in the corporation that actually owns the Manse.
    “You don’t really understand yourself, do you?” Beth asked when we pulled into the parking lot.
    “No. But I can explain the Electoral College and how that came into being.”
    “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
    “Well . . .” I said, looking up at the plain-Jane, white building. It’s on a hillside across from Pease Park in what used to be near the center of Austin. “Here’s the deal. If I’m not back in thirty minutes, come in and get me.”
    “Why? Will Houston be holding you captive?”
    “No, but I could be seriously hurting him.”
    “Then I’m coming in.” Beth got out of the car.
    “Okay, but if I start throwing things, you better duck. My aim isn’t what it used to be.”
    We went up the cracked concrete staircase, then through the doors into his office, where things were dramatically different. The receptionist’s desk was made of polished mahogany, dark and rich looking, like the office of someone important. Behind her was a panel of the same wood with an inset of etched glass, but the kicker was the rug. It was a hand-knotted Mashad, a good ten feet by twelve in a shimmering cranberry red with a design of cream and faded turquoise. I’m not an expert on oriental