To Catch a Thief

by Nan Dixon

  She pressed call on her phone.

  “Yes?” Sage said.

  “I just hit the causeway. The rain is terrible. Maybe you should stay the night.”

  Silence. “We’ll talk when you get here.”

  He hung up.

  What was that about? Did he have a headache? Oh no. Had doing her errands and painting Mamá’s house set back his recover?

  He had a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Would it be her fault if he wasn’t able to get back to work?

  She relied on him. Maybe too much. Somehow he knew when she couldn’t take any more of her mother. He would step in or give her a small shoulder massage or just a hug.

  A dark shape blew across the road. She slammed on her brakes. The car fishtailed. Her hear pounded.

  It was a soggy mass of paper. She accelerated, exhaling when she finally drove up to the house.

  Dim lights shone through the window sheers. Even in the storm, the white paint looked so much brighter.

  What would she do without Sage? She didn’t want to imagine.

  Work had become a chore. Abby and her sisters avoided her. Even Naomi had asked what she’d done to irritate the boss.

  She hadn’t explained. The Fitzgeralds wouldn’t want anyone knowing they were related.

  She turned off the car and wished an umbrella would magically appear. Grabbing her tote, she held it over her head and made a dash for the steps. Her heels clacked against the wet wood. She was soaked by the time she opened the porch’s screen door.

  She eased open the main door. If her mother was sleeping, she didn’t want to wake her.

  Sage’s head jerked up. He flipped off the television and stood, his hands shoved into his shorts’ pockets.

  “Hi,” she whispered. “My mother...?”

  “Went to sleep about a half hour ago.” He stared out the window.

  She dropped her tote and kicked off her wet shoes. Tossing her soaked sweater on the coat tree, she padded over and brushed a kiss on his lips. She avoided getting too close, not wanting to get him wet. “Thank you. For everything.”

  He nodded.

  “You have a headache, don’t you?” She pushed him back into the chair and moved behind him, massaging his shoulders. “Your muscles are as hard as granite. Why didn’t you let me know you were having trouble?”

  He twisted out of her hands. “Stop it. Just stop.”

  “What?”

  “Stop!” he snapped.

  “I’m trying to help.” A chill settled into her bones that went beyond the cold rain.

  “I don’t want your help.”

  “What’s wrong?” Her breath caught in her chest. “Did...did something happen with Mamá?”

  “Yeah.” He let out a mirthless chuckle. “She showed me the light.”

  “My mother?” She moved around the chair so she could look him in the eye. And barely recognized his hard face.

  “How could you?” he asked.

  “How could I what?”

  “How could you steal?”

  Had Mamá told him about the bird?

  He pointed at Poppy’s desk. “Did you think I wouldn’t realize what you’d done?”

  She turned and gasped. The globe sat in the middle of the open rolltop desk.

  He pointed. “Did Abby give that to you?”

  “It was Poppy’s. My grandfather’s,” she whispered.

  “You didn’t answer my question. Does Abby know you have the globe?”

  “N-no.” Her body shook. “You don’t understand.”

  He shook his head. “This belongs to the Fitzgeralds.”

  “M-my mother gave it to my f-father.” She couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering.

  “And you stole it.” The disgust in his voice slapped her hard enough to take a step back.

  Her head snapped up. “I can explain.”

  “I’m sure you can.” He snorted. Any love that had been in his eyes had vanished. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Sage, please.” Tears filled her eyes.

  “This is how you keep your head down and keep your job?” His words were knives shredding her heart. “You could have asked the Fitzgeralds for it.”

  “I couldn’t.” She held out her hands, pleading that he would understand. “Mamá didn’t want anyone to know who my father was. You think I could tell Abby why they had my family’s globe?”

  “All you needed to do was tell the truth.”

  “You don’t have any idea of how many people the truth would hurt.”

  His eyebrows arched over his disbelieving eyes. “The truth is out. How many more people can be hurt? Unless there are more lies you’ve been telling them and me?”

  “N-none.” Why couldn’t he understand? “My mother’s dying!”

  He waved off her mother’s impending death like it was nothing. Nothing. Every molecule of oxygen escaped her body and she wobbled, light-headed.

  “The Fitzgeralds have bent over backward for you. And you do this.” His eyes were so, so cold. “You need to give it back.”

  “I can’t. It’s my family’s. The seizures will start again.” She sank to the wet floor. “It’s what stopped them in the first place.”

  He shook his head, his lips white with anger.

  She couldn’t look at his unforgiving face. She stared at the floor. “It’s true.”

  “Can you imagine what you and your mother have put the Fitzgerald family through and now you do this?” He headed to the door.

  “Sage—” she crawled to her feet and hurried after him “—try and understand.”

  “I can’t do this anymore.” He held up his hand. “Honor is everything to me. And you don’t have any.”

  She sagged against the wall. “What?”

  He didn’t turn around, just pulled the door behind him. The porch screen slammed shut.

  She was alone.

  * * *

  SAGE WAS DONE with Carolina. His chest ached. He couldn’t be around her and not think about his mom and dad. How his mother and brothers would feel if this had happened to them.

  The rain and wind slashed at his truck. The world was as angry as he was. Headlights came on him too fast and he corrected his path on the causeway, ensuring he was on his side of the highway.

  At least the bright lights weren’t aggravating the headache that had hit when he’d seen the globe. Of course, that ache still stabbed his heart.

  How could she? And how could he have loved a woman who didn’t live with honor? Didn’t she see the dishonor in lying and stealing?

  The storm pushed and buffeted his car, matching his battered heart. His chest ached, an echo of the pain from his cracked ribs. But this time Carolina had broken something in him that the doctors couldn’t fix.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “WHERE’S SAGE?” MAMÁ pushed around her breakfast. “He’s usually working by now.”

  “He has a doctor’s appointment.” It was the easiest answer. Carolina couldn’t admit that Sage had pushed her away. Broken her heart. She wasn’t worth loving.

  Sage didn’t understand. He hadn’t been born to a single mom from an affair. He’d never had to keep his mother stress-free while she was having seizures.

  He’d accused her of having no honor. She couldn’t afford honor.

  Carolina relaxed her fists. There were calls to make. Sage had volunteered to stay with Mamá tonight. That wouldn’t happen now. She needed to find someone.

  There was so much to do and she could barely lift her coffee mug. But she had to keep moving, because she was all Mamá had.

  Ella would do what she could, but she was staying at Fitzgerald House. And next week, Ella was heading to Hilton Head for a few days to find a place to stay.

  Sage’s betrayal hammered home that
she needed a wider support group. He’d said he would be there for her. Always. The ache in her chest deepened. He’d lied.

  She’d relied on Sage. That wouldn’t happen again. There’d been a few visitors at the hospital who’d offered to help. It was time to find their phone numbers.

  And she had to talk to Abby. Tonight. Otherwise, Sage might say something about the globe.

  If the globe was a Castillo family heirloom, was it really stealing?

  Carolina didn’t have the luxury of arguing the ethics of what she’d done. She’d needed to stop Mamá’s seizures and taking the globe had worked.

  She pushed her hair over her shoulder and every muscle ached. She was exhausted, but there were calls to make.

  She had to stand on her own. Alone. And that was all that mattered.

  * * *

  SAGE DRAGGED HIMSELF into the doctor’s office. With a headache hangover and his wounded heart, he assumed the news from the doc would be bad. Dr. Shaw would push off his returning to work for another two weeks. Without being able to help Carolina and Rosa, he would go mad.

  He couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t be around Carolina. He worried he would ignore his morals and want to hold her. Help her.

  “Agent Cornell, come on back.” The nurse took his pressure, drew blood and led him to an exam room.

  “How are you doing?” Dr. Shaw asked.

  “I want to get back on the job.” He tried to keep the growl out of his voice. And failed.

  “I know.” The doc checked his records, then ran him through the tests and eye charts. This time Sage had to read the newspaper. Even two weeks ago, that wouldn’t have been possible. Now? The headache was—survivable.

  Dr. Shaw rolled the stool back to the computer. “How are the headaches? Do you have one now?”

  “I...” Should he be honest?

  He had to be. He wasn’t a hypocrite. “I had one last night. Brought on by stress. I have a...hangover from it.”

  “I can tell.” The doctor pulled out an FBI form. “I’m authorizing you to go back to work—part-time. Let’s see how you do.”

  “Part-time? I don’t even know what I could do part-time.”

  “You’re not the first agent to come off a debilitating injury. Margaret will figure out how to make use of your skills.”

  Part-time. He shook his head. He’d been prepared for anything—but that. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll see you in two weeks. But if the headaches or dizziness get worse, get back in here.” He pointed a finger at him. “Promise.”

  “Sure.”

  Sage set another appointment and headed to his car. He should call Carolina and let her know the good—

  He stopped in the center of the parking lot. There was no more sharing news with Carolina.

  But he’d promised to watch Rosa tonight.

  He sent her a text.

  Did you find someone to watch your mother tonight?

  The message came back quickly.

  Still looking.

  I’ll come down.

  Thank you. That would help.

  Helping someone with a sick parent didn’t mean he condoned her actions. He wouldn’t linger. Wouldn’t ask about her life. He would watch her mother.

  Carolina may live dishonorably, but he was a Cornell. Honor was all he knew.

  * * *

  CAROLINA CHECKED THE time and set her bag next to the front door. Why had Sage volunteered to take care of her mother? Had he forgiven her?

  She couldn’t get her hopes up.

  She sat in the chair. Shoot. This was where Sage had sat last night. She moved next to her mother on the sofa. “Mamá, do you need anything?”

  “No. Well, maybe a glass of water.”

  Carolina grabbed the glass on the end table and handed it to her.

  “Thank you.” Her mother took a sip and set the glass on the sofa.

  Carolina picked it up and set it back on the end table. Each day reinforced why Mamá couldn’t be alone. “Sage is coming to have dinner with you.”

  “Sage?”

  She couldn’t say her boyfriend. He wasn’t that anymore. “Sage was here last night. He told me you had champagne on the porch.”

  “Oh, yes. He’s handsome.” Mamá fluttered her eyelashes. “He’s not married, is he? Even though he’s so handsome, don’t get tangled up with a married man unless he gives you some security.”

  Words of wisdom she did not need.

  There was a knock at the door. My how things had changed. Before, when Sage had come, he would knock and then come in.

  She took a breath and opened the door. “Thank you.”

  He stepped into the house. “I keep my promises.”

  He made it sound like she didn’t. Her spine straightened. “So do I. Dinner is in the oven.”

  “I know the drill.” Sage walked over to her mother and held up a bottle of champagne. “I brought you something, Rosa.”

  “Oh, lovely.” Mamá clapped. “Let’s open it and drink on the porch.”

  “That’s the plan.” Sage glanced at Carolina. “You can go.”

  She swallowed and grabbed her bag. “Have a good night. Mamá, make sure you don’t stand too quickly. Remember you get dizzy now.”

  Sage nodded. No light glinted in his eyes. Even when he was in terrible pain, he would light up when he saw her.

  She’d killed that. Killed his sparkle.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He shrugged and moved closer to her mother. “Are you ready for a glass?”

  He’d dismissed her.

  Carolina rushed out the door. In her car she took deep breaths, trying to dredge up some energy. She had to get to work because she couldn’t lose this job.

  Abby hadn’t made any commitments beyond the contract. Did that include the bartending job?

  She should be paying more attention to the road as she drove into Savannah. Instead she practiced how to tell Abby. Surely, Abby would understand why she’d taken the globe.

  When she walked into the kitchen, a wall of noise greeted her. A server slipped a loaded tray of appetizers into the dumbwaiter. Cheryl waited with another platter.

  Carolina poked her head around the corner and spotted Abby at the expediter’s station. “Do you have a few minutes?”

  “No.” Abby shoved back her hair. “We’re slammed.”

  “Oh.” That response hadn’t been in any of her practiced scenarios. “Later?”

  “Closing,” Abby snapped. “Can you do your own intro? I can’t break away.”

  “Of course.” She headed to the locker room. Was Abby’s animosity because she couldn’t say anything kind? No. She’d never seen the kitchen so chaotic. That was a good thing, right?

  She stowed her bag, slipped on her heels and headed to the bar. Customers were four deep.

  Naomi looked up. “Thank goodness. Any chance you can fill orders until you sing?”

  “Sure.” She thought about going back and grabbing her flats, but Naomi and the new bartender looked crazed.

  Carolina filled the servers’ drink orders. She couldn’t even hear Ella playing in the background. Would the crowd quiet when she sang?

  After filling orders for fifteen minutes, the time she’d allowed for talking to Abby, she headed to the stage.

  “Thanks!” Naomi called. “Good luck.”

  At least Naomi hadn’t turned against her.

  Ella grinned as she walked up and leaned over. “Are you sure you want to change so many songs?”

  “Absolutely.” If she sang sappy love songs, she’d cry. That wouldn’t help with tips and she needed money even more now that Mamá needed to be watched 24/7.

  She stepped onto the stage. Ella hit the lights and pounded a few chords to quiet the crowd. No suc
cess.

  “Hello, I’m Carolina Castillo. I’m your entertainment for this evening.”

  There was a smattering of applause but most people kept talking or eating.

  “I hope you’ve been enjoying the fabulous Ella Blade.”

  A few more people clapped. Not a problem. She nodded at Ella. The intro to “What Doesn’t Kill You” broke out. By the time she hit the chorus heads were nodding.

  People turned. Diners in the balcony leaned over. And the crowd clapped.

  With each song, they were quieter. There was more applause. And more smiles. She stopped for a drink near the end of the set.

  Ella waved her over. “This gentleman is celebrating his anniversary with his bride of forty-seven years. He’s wondering if you could sing ‘Blue Moon.’ It was the song playing when he proposed.”

  “Absolutely.” She got their names and headed back to her stool. “This song is going out to Teri Sue with thanks for a wonderful forty-seven years from Pete. Happy anniversary.”

  She waited for the intro. Would she ever have someone love her so much that they had their own song?

  It hadn’t been in the cards for her mother. Why would it happen for her?

  Her voice cracked as she sang. Straightening her shoulders, she focused on getting through this song, then she could take a break.

  Pete pulled Teri Sue out of her chair and into his arms, dancing in the tight aisle.

  The crowd sighed and Carolina barely kept it together. She wanted what they had. Thought she’d had it with Sage.

  When the song ended, the crowd clapped. “Let’s hear it for Teri Sue and Pete.”

  She stumbled off the stage.

  “He gave us a hundred-dollar tip,” Ella whispered.

  “No way.”

  “Yes way.”

  They headed into the locker room.

  “They were sweet, weren’t they?” Ella asked.

  Carolina nodded. She should get out there and work the crowd, but she needed just a few minutes to herself. She sank onto the bench.

  “How’s your mother doing?” Ella asked, sitting next to her.

  “Not well.”