Free Catnip (Dunbarton Mysteries Book 1) by Valerie Tate

off around the house.
    He watched her until she was out
of sight, feeling very touched, then turned contentedly back to the house.
    That feeling of contentment
carried over through most of the next week.
    *  *  *
    James called on Friday and asked
to meet for lunch, and Chris was very gratified at the gesture of friendship.
    They met at the town’s best
restaurant, a little Italian place in an old converted house on the main
street. Chris was ashamed to admit, even to himself, that he had an ulterior
motive in accepting the invitation. In the face of James’ goodwill, Chris hoped
to enlist his aid in the pursuit of his daughter, but his ulterior motives were
to be lost in what James had to say.
    Di Angelo’s was as busy as usual,
but the Dunbar name procured a table without waiting, much to James’
embarrassment and the annoyance of those ahead of them in line. They ordered
and made small talk until the food arrived. Chris could sense James had
something on his mind but left it up to him to bring up whatever was bothering
him.
    “I’m glad to have this
opportunity to express my gratitude for how happy you’ve made Alice. I haven’t
seen her so excited in years. We’re up to our elbows in decorating books and
wallpaper, paint and fabric samples.” He laughed briefly, but the laughter didn’t
reach his eyes. “That’s not the reason I asked you to meet me, though. I
thought I should let you know what was happening before I made any final
decision.”
    ‘Final decision’? Surely he wasn’t
thinking of divorcing her just when things were looking up.
    “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t
understand. Happening with what? What ‘final decision’?”
    “I’m not making myself very
clear, am I? You must know that for some years the company has been having
financial difficulties. I’ve held out, hoping things would improve, but I’m
about out of ideas, and I’m afraid that in the near future I’m going to have to
close the factory. I’d like to do it while we still have a good reputation.”
    Chris’ appetite suddenly left and
he pushed his lunch aside. James looked beaten. “Are you sure there’s nothing
to be done?”
    “If there is, it escapes me. We just
can’t compete any more. Our costs keep rising, wood prices are out of sight,
and it’s putting us out of the reach of most people. The large department store
chain that has always been our major customer has just informed me that at the
end of our current contract they won’t be renewing. I know we could turn out
cheaper furniture if we mechanized and used an assembly line, veneers and
compressed wood products, but I refuse to compromise the reputation of the
company by producing lesser quality furniture. The Dunbar name has always stood
for excellence. Furthermore, even if we could solve the market problem, we just
can’t get skilled craftsmen. It seems no-one today wants to work with his
hands. Most of my employees are nearing retirement, and when they’re gone, I
don’t know how I’ll replace them.”
    “I’m so sorry. I know this must
be very hard for you.”
    “I thought you ought to know
since the estate owns 49% of the company. You know that when my father died, he
left everything to mother, except the controlling
interest in the firm. He felt I’d need that in order to run it successfully.”
He smiled bitterly. “At any rate, when we close I feel that I’m obliged to give
each employee a year’s salary as well as their pension. After that, and once we’ve
paid all outstanding debts, whatever’s left, if anything, will be divided.”
    “Will you do me a favor, James?
Don’t do anything just yet. Give me some time to look into things.”
    “Very well. How much time will
you need?”
    “I don’t know just yet. Just don’t
do anything for a while. Would it be possible for me to tour the factory?”
    “Of course. Any time you like.”
    “How about first thing Monday
morning?”
    “All right. I’ll be expecting
you.