Sheriff Gaines stiffened and furrowed his brow. “Normally, Chief doesn’t take much to women.” He frowned at the dog.
“So, what can we do for you, Sheriff?” Nick stepped forward to interrupt and offered a chair. “Have a seat?”
“No thanks, I won’t stay long.” Gaines hooked both thumbs into his belt and let his eyes rove across the newly refurbished waiting area and reception desk. “Looks like you’ve been hard at work.”
Natalie watched Nick trying his best to tamp down his annoyance with the drawn-out niceties. She cleared her throat, shooting her husband her best cease-and-desist look.
“Thank you, Sheriff. We’re glad you approve.”
Gaines rubbed one hand under his chin. “It would be a shame if anything got in the way of your new enterprise here. Folks do talk, you know. They see things.”
“I’m sorry,” Natalie said, standing up and throwing back her shoulders. “I’m really not following you. Is something wrong?” Her voice quivered the slightest bit. She was clinging to the edge of the table, her knuckles bone white.
“Simple.” Sheriff Gaines ran his palm through his brush cut and then snapped his fingers for Chief to heel. The dog, ever obedient, trotted swiftly across the room and sat next to his master. “What I’m speaking of, in friendly terms, is allowing people of questionable background and morals to get involved in the day-today operation of your business.”
“It would be easier—” Nick started.
Natalie held up a hand and smiled as sweetly as she could manage. How dare he call her judgment into question? But she didn’t need to make enemies. She could play this better.
“Sheriff Gaines.” She lowered her voice and blinked up at him, eyes wide. “Now, whatever are you talking about?”
“Ma’am. All I wanted to do was remind you to be careful.”
Natalie lifted an eyebrow and waited.
Gaines rocked on his heels and gripped his holster, his eyes turning dark with frustration. “There was some history, here in Brunswick. Involving Allie Marshall. I heard that she stopped by.”
Natalie saw Nick eye Gaines’s hand. She thought it probably twitched a little too much for his liking.
“That’s right, Sheriff,” Natalie said. “She did.” She slid a glance at her husband.
“Mind if I ask why?”
“She needed a job. We have an opening.” Natalie corrected herself, “Well, we had an opening.”
Gaines visibly relaxed. “You filled the position with someone else. Good.” He grinned.
“Um, no. We thought we’d give her a chance.” Natalie squinted at her husband. “See how she fit into things. She’s qualified. Right, babe?”
“Honey, that’s your call.” Nick managed a weak grin.
The sheriff’s jaw flinched as he moved his eyes toward the back of the building. Chief sensed the movement and began to sniff the ground, his nose edging the cabinets.
“I see,” Gaines finally said.
“Nick and I believe that it’s our civic duty to help others in need,” Natalie explained, lowering her eyes to the German shepherd. The fur around his neck bristled. His ears pricked up. Animals could sense tension and discord, and in this moment, the room was supersaturated.
“She’s a felon,” Sheriff Gaines said with force. “I thought you should have all of the facts.”
Chief whined a little, tugged at his collar, looked up at his master, paws touching and lifting from the floor.
Natalie leveled her gaze. “Of course, we don’t know everything, but we did buy the business from her parents. They shared some of the . . . story . . . about the trouble she’s had.”
“Trouble? Is that what she’s calling it?” Gaines stared at Natalie as if he’d been told Allie had broken her leg dancing with the New York City Ballet instead of sitting inside Arrendale State Prison.
“Sheriff.” Natalie spoke slowly. “We found she had the necessary qualifications and experience. What more could a veterinarian ask than an employee guided and educated by a man as fine as Dr. Paul Marshall?” It was a sound argument, Natalie told herself, unless you believed that Allie Marshall actually killed a man in cold blood and watched him die.
When Gaines simply held her gaze, she continued, feeling the muscles in her neck tighten. “We need to be in business and stay in business. Miss Marshall—Allie—can help us. We need a seamless transition from her father’s office to my office,” she added shakily.
“It may be the worst decision you ever made,” Gaines said. “She’s fresh out of prison, with a history of violence. Who knows what other tricks she may have picked up on the inside.” He rubbed at his smooth-shaven chin. “Bad things can happen, Dr. Harper. Assault, robbery. I’ve seen it time and time again.”
Natalie’s throat went dry. “Well, Sheriff, you’ll be the first to know if and when anything goes wrong.” On wobbly legs, she moved around the counter to the lobby area.
There was a beat of silence, and Gaines shifted in place. “I’ll be on my way, then.”
“Thank you for stopping by, Sheriff.” Natalie stuck out her hand to shake and offered him a bright smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Nick and I have so much to do before we can open the doors tomorrow.”
Gaines’s hand chilled Natalie to the bone, his skin the temperature of a raging river in spring. His fingers closed over Natalie’s and squeezed hard. Argh! Was the man trying to break every bone? When she looked up, wincing in his grip, the sheriff’s eyes glinted dark as the night sky.
“All right, Natalie,” Nick said as he hurried over. “Want to get those files in order?” At the sounds of his voice, Gaines dropped Natalie’s hand and turned to her husband.
As Nick escorted Gaines and the dog outside, he made an effort at small talk. “How ’bout those Wolverines this year? Is that quarterback ready to go?” He held the door wide open, with a worried glance back at his wife.
As Natalie massaged her hand, the warm afternoon breeze flooded the room, ruffling papers and sending Post-its fluttering to the ground. She didn’t move or stoop to pick anything up. All Natalie could think about was getting this man out the door.
As if reading her thoughts, Sheriff Gaines paused before sliding on his hat and stepping onto the concrete steps.
He glanced back. “Dr. Harper.” He tipped his hat. “Nick. Call me if you need anything. Don’t hesitate.”
Nick stood in the doorway and nodded. “Yes, sir. Have a good day.”
With a snap of Gaines’s fingers, Chief strained at his collar and followed. When the sheriff opened the doors of his squad car and motioned, the dog barked in response and jumped into the backseat.
From the window, Natalie watched Gaines slide into the patrol car and crank the engine, but what she really saw was the sheriff staring down at her. His image was now burned in her mind. It was hatred on his face, pure and unadulterated. Hatred, bordering on obsession.
Surely no sheriff or lawman liked a convicted felon returning to town, but Allie didn’t fit the description of a hardened criminal. At least not the ones Natalie had seen on television. She chewed her bottom lip. Her experience, admittedly, was limited.
She put a hand on her heart and exhaled as the vehicle backed up. The wheels crunched on the gravel as the car turned and crept down the driveway, leaving puffs of dust behind.
As Nick came back inside, brushing off his khaki pants, he didn’t have to stop or ask what Natalie needed.
This time he locked the deadbolt and set the alarm.
TWENTY-ONE
CAROLINE
2016
“You know, I thought you’d stand me up again,” Russell said, rising out of his seat to give her a half hug across the café table.
Inhaling his masculine scent and feeling his stubble brush her cheek, Caroline allowed herself to be wrapped up in the embrace. When she withdrew and stepped back to sit down, Russell was staring at her as if she were an exotic jewel on display at a museum.
Her skin warmed a
s she met his gaze.
“I ordered you a latte—hope you don’t mind. You look great,” he said, casting an admiring glance at her hair and bare shoulders under the thin straps of her yellow sundress.
Caroline bit her lip but smiled. “Thanks. I’m not sure how. It’s been a rough week.”
“Well, the week’s over. And I’m glad you said yes,” Russell said and grinned. “Impressed that I remembered your number?” He tapped his head and winked.
“I am.” Caroline laughed. She couldn’t help herself. She smiled back and took a sip from her mug. Coffee, she reminded herself. They were just meeting for coffee.
They were sitting outside, under a patio umbrella, watching the birds perch nearby. Overhead, streams of white clouds cut ribbons through the sky. A jet pierced the blue with its silver body. Caroline wished she were on it, going anywhere.
What she was doing now was a close second to getting away from her hometown—sharing a table with a new boy in town. He was cute, friendly, and hadn’t grown up in a big mansion in Brunswick, or down the street from Grandpa Paul and Grandma Lily, or around the corner from her high school. He was, as she’d discovered earlier, the new veterinarian’s son.
His family had just moved here from the Atlanta suburbs, and Caroline liked that he came from outside Brunswick and St. Simons Island. He had lived somewhere different. In a really big city, one with skyscrapers. He knew that there was a whole wide world outside this little corner of Georgia.
“So tell me about Caroline Marshall,” Russell said, sitting up straighter. He leaned forward and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eye.
“You haven’t finished telling me about you,” Caroline insisted, raising her chin and feeling flirtatious.
Russell rubbed the hint of stubble on his chin and settled back against his chair. He motioned for her to begin, a lazy smile playing across his face. “Fine. Shoot. Ask me anything.”
A swirl of emotions welled up in Caroline. Relief from any scrutiny or a need to measure up. Admiration for Russell’s confidence. Appreciation for his good sense of humor. It was refreshing and honest.
They smiled across the table at each other.
“So, you really seem to like volunteering at the nursing home,” Caroline said, breaking the moment. She took a sip of her latte, letting the sweet milk and foam tickle her lips. Her plan was to keep the conversation about Russell, away from the potholes that made up her own life. She watched as he grabbed his napkin, folding it into quarters.
“I like working with people who’ve seen so much and have all of these stories to tell,” Russell said. “The exercise and rehab part can really help people perk up and respond, but there’s something about spending time with someone—one-on-one—that’s just as important. A person has to want to try to move or try to lift his leg a little higher. Without a little incentive, it doesn’t matter. People waste away and wait to die.”
“Wow.” Caroline let the word escape in a rushed exhale. The explanation was more than she’d expected, deep, honest, and profound. Caroline felt goose bumps prickle her arms. She shivered, despite the warm breeze, and looked off in the distance, thinking about the people in the nursing home where they worked.
“Aw, I didn’t mean to get on a soapbox and talk your ear off.” Russell reddened through his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
Caroline dropped her eyes for a moment, then looked back up. “I think it’s great.” She toyed with her mug. “It sounds like how my Grandpa Paul used to talk before he retired.” She tilted her head to one side. “It’s so weird. Your parents buying my grandpa’s office. It’s kind of surreal.” She frowned.
“Yeah. My parents told me about your grandpa. They’ve heard he’s a good doctor and a really good guy.” He looked at Caroline intently. “Can I—”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Caroline cut him off, panicking. He was going to ask her about her mother and prison. Or whether she really killed the man she found in the pharmacy that night. How it felt. So many people had asked. She squeezed her hands together to keep them from shaking.
Russell frowned. “I was going to—”
“Don’t, please.” Caroline winced.
A bird alighted on the table, chirping and fluttering over the crumbs. Russell shooed it away with a gentle sweep of his arm.
“Whoa. Hold on here.” Russell paused and looked at Caroline. “All right. Let me guess.” He leaned back and spread his arms wide. “You’re having a meltdown about something. Fight with your best friend? Or school is awful?”
Caroline moved her fingers away from her eyes. She was silent for a moment. Maybe she could trust him. Maybe she’d feel better if she talked about it.
“Well,” she began, “something like that. Some stuff happened.”
Russell watched her, listening.
“A lot of days I want to be invisible. I’ve tried pretending everything’s fine, but nothing’s the same. Even my teachers act weird.” Caroline stopped herself, afraid she’d spilled too much already.
Russell frowned. “It won’t be like that forever. You’ll get out of high school, go to college.”
Caroline lowered her gaze. “I can’t even think about tomorrow . . .”
A light gust of wind rustled through the hanging baskets, each dripping with ivy and trailing cones of blues and purple blossoms. The motion lifted the corners of the napkins on the table, sent the check flying. Russell leaped up and grabbed it after several steps.
“Got it,” he exclaimed, beaming as he turned back toward the table.
“Nice catch.” Caroline forced a bright look, trying to shake the angst bubbling up in her chest.
Russell sat back down and squinted over his mug, watching her.
“So, school sucks, you’re stressed out, and everyone’s acting weird.” He tapped his chin, then met her eyes. “Are your mom and dad splitting up?”
“Not even close.” Caroline was surprised and relieved that he didn’t know. “I’ve never even met my dad.”
Across from her, Russell wrinkled his forehead. “All right. Go ahead and tell me.”
“You really haven’t heard?” Caroline said, suspicious.
He shrugged. “Let me hear it from you.”
Caroline sucked in her breath and unloaded. “My mom’s a-a convicted felon.” She bit her lip. “She went to prison ten years ago for supposedly killing a man—the man who used to be the coach of the high school football team.”
Without flinching, Russell kept his eyes on Caroline’s face.
“No one actually saw it happen, and there wasn’t much for the cops to go on. A tiny bit of forensic stuff. A 9-1-1 call that put her at the scene.” Caroline swallowed. “They fought it, my mom and my family did. But the jury convicted her. She was sentenced to sixteen years, but was paroled early and got home, like, last week.”
“Okay,” Russell said. He didn’t look away.
“While she was away, I lived with my grandparents at first, and then moved in with my aunt.” Caroline traced the handle of her mug. “Emma, my aunt, she’s pretty chill. Like she worries and everything, but it’s not awful.”
With a smile, Russell nodded for her to go on.
“Now my mom’s out and wants to see me.” She chewed her lip and hesitated. “And I just can’t do it.”
Russell put his elbows on the table and leaned in. “Things may look different in another month or two. Once things settle down. I know you don’t think so, but you’ll get through this.”
Caroline picked up her cup, swirled the caramel-colored liquid. “I thought volunteering at the nursing home would keep me busy and get my mind off things.”
“And?” Russell asked.
She shrugged.
He waited a beat or two. “Are you doing it just to avoid your mom?”
Caroline offered a guilty look, wrinkled her nose. “Maybe at first. Now I really like it.”
“Good.” Russell ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying don�
��t volunteer. I think everyone should do it. When I go in that place, I am always so grateful that I can walk and run, that I’m not in a wheelchair.” Russell picked up his bagel and took a bite.
“I know,” she answered.
Russell looked at Caroline as he chewed. When he finished, he squinted at her. “The stuff about your mom, that’s messed up,” he said. “But what do they say? There are two sides to every story? And I’m sure she cares about you and wants to make things right.”
“You think so?” Caroline swallowed hard. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
“It’s a guess.”
Caroline considered this. “Well, I’m not sure. And a lot of times I don’t want to be thankful,” she said, raising her voice. “I’m so mad at her and the world that I want to scream sometimes. When she was gone, it was better. I could just pretend that Emma was my mom, that nothing happened.”
Russell wrinkled his brow.
“I don’t know if I ever can forgive her. For doing it. For leaving me.” Caroline squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her forehead.
Russell was silent for a moment. “Pretending helps for a while. But you get to a point when it’s easier to face it and go on. Take it from someone who has been on the other side; it’s pretty lonely and awful there too.”
Caroline frowned, half listening. “You have no idea.” This wasn’t how she wanted to spend her day. She’d trusted him, and he’d turned on her already, telling her what to do. She stood up, sloshing her coffee. “Look, I really need to get back. Homework. I have a paper due.”
Russell tilted his head and locked eyes with Caroline. “Are you sure?”
She felt herself starting to melt, just a little, until she reminded herself that he’d probably do the same thing Jake had done. Drop her and walk away. And Russell wasn’t even her boyfriend.
“Come on,” Caroline said softly. “Just forget it.” They stared at each other in silence until she lowered her eyes to the ground. She stayed focused on a crack in the sidewalk until Russell spoke.
“It’s okay.”
Caroline looked up as Russell pulled out his wallet and held up the check. “I’ll take care of this. You go do what you need to do.” He paused, forehead creased, and put a hand on the table. “If you change your mind, Caroline, and need to talk, just give me a call. I understand a lot more than you think.”
Sister Dear Page 12
