To Catch a Thief

by Nan Dixon

  Ella wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Let me know if I can watch her for you.”

  “Thanks. I will.” But Ella was working more hours at Southern Comforts than she was. “Maybe when you’re back from Hilton Head.”

  “I’m there for you.”

  She tipped her head on Ella’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

  She headed to the bar and topped off her water. A server stopped her. “The group upstairs is hoping you’ll come up.”

  “Sure.” Her heels clicked on the wooden staircase.

  It had better not be the Fitzgeralds wanting to skewer her for having the audacity to try to earn a living. Luckily, she didn’t recognize anyone.

  “Fantastic!” someone called out.

  “Thank you.” She aimed her gratitude in the general direction the voice had come from.

  “Do you take requests?” a young woman asked.

  “I do.” She smiled. “Assuming we know the song.”

  “Great.” A different woman handed her a handwritten list.

  “Wow.” There must be ten songs on the list. All dedicated to a man or a woman. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She talked, glancing at the titles. Every single request was a love song. Half of them were songs she’d cut earlier. Wasn’t that the story of her life?

  At the end of the evening, Ella handed her a wad of cash. “We banked tonight. Those requests are making us money.”

  Carolina tucked the bills in her wallet. Good, maybe she had enough tip money to pay Sage for the paint he’d bought.

  “Do you have time to come up to the apartment?” Ella asked. “I miss you.”

  “I need to talk to Abby.” Her stomach tightened. “And then I have to relieve Sage.”

  “He sure is a keeper.” Ella gave her a hug. “See you tomorrow.”

  Carolina changed shoes and searched for Abby. If she was lucky, maybe Abby had already left for home.

  Unfortunately she was in her office reviewing a printout.

  “Do you have time now?” Carolina asked.

  Without smiling, Abby waved a hand at the guest chair.

  Carolina perched on the edge of the seat.

  “We had a great crowd tonight.” Abby grimaced. “You played a big part in that.”

  Was that a compliment? “Thank you.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Do you remember when my mother was having all her seizures?”

  Abby nodded.

  “The doctor told me stress could be causing the seizures. That I needed to keep her as calm as possible.”

  “Okay.”

  “She kept ranting and raving about one of our family heirlooms. Something that my great-grandfather had given my grandfather when he left Spain.”

  “And you’re telling me this because...”

  “The heirloom was the blue globe.” She paused. “Mamá wanted the globe back.”

  Abby’s face went blank. “The globe that was in the music room?”

  Carolina nodded. “She stressed out so much she had another seizure. So... I took it.”

  Abby’s green eyes were like pinpoint lasers boring holes into her body. “You took it.”

  “My great-grandfather gave it to Poppy. It was the only thing he had from his family.”

  “And you stole it.” Abby’s words were as sharp as a knife.

  “I took back what belonged to my grandfather.” She threw up her hands. “The plaque is in Spanish.”

  “But...”

  “It worked. My mother stopped having seizures. When she got the globe, she stopped having them.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted it?” Abby blew out a breath that brushed her hair back. “Instead of stealing it?”

  “What could I tell you?” Carolina shifted. “That my mother gave it to our father?”

  “Did you even know him?” Abby snapped.

  “He would come over every few days. I was five when he died. I don’t remember much.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “My mother swore me to secrecy. I wasn’t allowed to talk about my father. Ever.”

  “I can’t believe my father...did what he did. To my mother.”

  Our father. And my mother, too. But Carolina couldn’t say that aloud.

  “Why are you telling me about the globe? I knew it was missing, but why now?”

  What could she say that didn’t make her look more devious? “I...” promised Sage. “I needed to tell you.”

  “I don’t know how to process any of this.” Abby’s chair squeaked as she leaned back. “You and I being related is too strange.”

  Related. They were more than that. Carolina picked up her tote. “I need this job, Abby. I need the money. Mamá...”

  Abby swallowed. Her sister’s laser-green eyes drilled back into hers. “I understand. But I have to worry about my mother. Having you here, even with business being so good, hurts her. I don’t ever want to hurt my mamma.”

  “But it’s okay to hurt mine.” She grabbed the doorknob. “Thanks, sister.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she caught Abby’s jerk. Hadn’t she processed they were sisters—half sisters at least.

  She couldn’t think anymore. As she drove home, the moonless night closed in around her. She was as alone as she had ever been. Why was this so much harder?

  Because she’d had Sage. Her chest ached just thinking his name. And she and Abby had had a good relationship before Abby knew the truth.

  And her mother was dying.

  It wasn’t fair. But her life never had been fair.

  * * *

  CAR LIGHTS FLASHED OUTSIDE. Sage shut off the TV, planning to make a quick getaway. He would ask if Carolina had talked to Abby about stealing the globe, then he was gone.

  Although, even if she said she’d told Abby, would that be the truth? How could he trust her after what he’d learned about her ethics? Their moral compasses weren’t calibrated the same.

  Hesitant footsteps climbed the outside stairs. He steeled himself, then pulled open the door and stepped aside.

  “Thanks.” Carolina walked in and dropped her bags. “And thank you for coming down for Mamá.”

  “No problem.” She looked exhausted. Had those dark half circles been under her eyes when she’d left?

  He should go. Instead he asked, “Do you have someone lined up to watch your mother tomorrow?”

  “No.” Her voice was small.

  “I’ll do it.” The words popped out of his mouth.

  “But I thought...” Her blue eyes swam with tears.

  He couldn’t let her wear herself to the bone. He loved her. Strike that. He’d loved her. Past tense. Not present or future. There wasn’t a future for them. “What time?”

  “Same time I guess.” She swallowed. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “I don’t need thanks.” He hesitated then asked, “Did you talk to Abby?”

  “Yes.” She stumbled to the sofa and collapsed. “I probably just lost my singing and bartending job.”

  He refused to feel sorry for her. She’d brought this on herself.

  “How did your doctor’s appointment go?” She set her feet on the sofa and wrapped her arms around her knees.

  He shifted. Should he sit or leave? “I’m cleared to go back to work part-time.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Her smile drew him away from the door and closer to her. “I know you’ve hated being—idle.”

  “Not sure what I can do part-time, but it’s something.” Especially since he didn’t have Carolina and her problems to keep him occupied. “How did it go tonight?”

  “The place was packed. Abby said it was her best night.”

  “Does she at least acknowledge that you’re part of the reason there are so many people at the restaur
ant?” he asked, sitting down.

  “It won’t matter. She doesn’t want to hurt her mother.” She shrugged and her soft hair shifted and slipped around the skinny straps of her black dress. A different black dress than she’d worn last Friday night. It would be so easy to slip the straps off and touch her.

  Or would have been if she hadn’t ruined what they’d started building together.

  “So, have you talked to your boss?” she asked. “Are they happy you’re coming back?”

  “I... I guess I’ll talk to Kaden tomorrow.” Strange. His whole focus had been on getting back to work. Now he couldn’t dredge up any enthusiasm for returning to the career he’d hoped would have made his father proud.

  “I’m glad things are working out...” She paused a moment. “For you.”

  “Thanks.” He should go. She’d destroyed their relationship. But he hated leaving her. She looked...broken.

  She sat up. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No.” He pushed out of the chair. Time to leave. “I’ll be here, same time tomorrow.”

  She stood and he hurried out the door. Because his head might know he couldn’t kiss her good-night, but his body still hadn’t gotten the memo. That needed to change.

  * * *

  ON TUESDAY, CAROLINA swiped her card on the storage room card reader. There was a bachelorette party upstairs and they’d gone through half a case of prosecco already.

  She grabbed another case and heard the hum of voices through the walls. Abby’s office.

  “Carolina...hurt...Mamma.” Was that Abby’s voice?

  The case started to slip. She tightened her grip. They were talking about her.

  “Bastard...” That sounded like Dolley.

  Tears filled her eyes. She took in deep breaths, refusing to let them fall. She wanted to run. Hide. But she couldn’t. She needed tonight’s tips.

  She forced a smile on her face and headed back to the bar with the prosecco.

  After sliding bottles into the cooler, she drew another beer for the man sitting on Sage’s barstool. God, she missed him. Missed their conversations. Missed his hugs. But he hadn’t talked to her since Saturday night.

  She forced cheer into her voice as she served the beer. “Enjoy.”

  Naomi brushed by. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

  “Back at work.” And out of her life. She’d wanted to find out how he’d done on Monday and today. Had the headaches returned? How was his vision? Did he need a massage to get him through the night?

  That wasn’t happening.

  Abby, Bess and Dolley walked out of the kitchen. The family meeting must be over. Bess caught sight of her and chewed her lip. Dolley glared.

  Abby stepped behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of brandy. “Naomi, will you charge this to the kitchen, please?”

  “Will do, boss.” Naomi’s gaze bounced between the four women.

  Abby stopped next to Carolina, her face a solemn mask. “Can you see me when your shift is over?”

  The empties she’d just grabbed slid through her fingers. She clutched them before they crashed to the floor. “Sure.”

  Was this it? Was she losing her job? She had two weeks left on her singing contract. If Abby let her go, she would be paid, but there wouldn’t be any tips or bartending pay. Her hands shook. What if there was a clause in the contract that let Abby fire her because of the globe?

  She’d barely had time to look for another job. Maybe people would be hiring for Christmas, but she had no idea how she and her mother would live until then.

  “What’s the forecast on Hurricane Lawrence?” the man at the counter asked the guy next to him.

  “Predicted to miss us,” the other man said.

  “I hope they’re right,” the first man said.

  Carolina stiffened. She hadn’t paid attention to the weather. She leaned over to Naomi. “Since Ella’s not playing tonight, can we change the channel to weather?”

  “Sure.” Naomi shrugged. “When the basketball game comes on, we might have to turn it back.”

  “Of course.”

  Carolina flipped the channel to the weather, then kept her eye on her customers and the screen. When they showed the possible storm paths, she shivered. One took it over Tybee.

  Please don’t hit Tybee. If they had to evacuate, where would they go?

  She couldn’t deal with more bad news.

  “Can you stay?” Naomi asked. “This crowd is not going home.”

  “Is it all right with Abby?” she asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Let me check with the aide.” Carolina sent her a text and the aide got right back to her. Apparently, Mamá was already in bed. “I’m good for as long as you need me.”

  And working behind the bar put off talking to Abby.

  She cleaned glasses. Made drinks. Kept up a happy exterior, but she wanted to cry.

  “Thanks for staying,” Naomi said. “I think we’re clear now.”

  “I need to talk to Abby. I’ll check how you’re doing before I leave.” Unless she was escorted out of the building.

  When Carolina walked into the kitchen, Abby was working at the multi-burner range.

  “I’ll be right with you,” Abby said. “You can...wait in my office.”

  Carolina nodded, afraid her voice would crack.

  In Abby’s office, she paced, but the room was only five steps wide. She sat in the spare chair, and tapped her fingers on her thigh.

  “We needed to catch up on orders.” Abby took her seat behind the desk. “How’s your mother?”

  “We’re taking it day by day.” She didn’t want to talk about her mother. Or how she was getting more bizarre each day.

  Abby steepled her fingers. “I’m sorry. I’m going to let you go after your contract is done. Both the singing and the bartending.”

  The words hit her like bricks pounding on her chest. Her breath rushed in and out. How would she and Mamá survive?

  “I need this job.” Carolina tried to make her voice strong but it creaked like an unoiled door. “I’m begging you, don’t do this.”

  Abby closed her eyes. “I have to.”

  “Can’t you...wait until—” tears flooded down her face “—until Mamá’s gone?”

  Until she was truly alone in the world. Just like she’d always feared.

  “I can’t do that to my family.” Abby covered her mouth.

  “Family? What about mine?” Carolina’s hand shook as she brushed away the tears. She didn’t want to beg, but had no choice. “We’re family.”

  “No, we’re not. I didn’t know about you until a week ago.” Abby shook her head. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  Carolina grabbed her things. No way could she go back through the restaurant. “Not too sorry to fire me.”

  She shoved open the door. As she got to her car, she dropped the keys. Leaning down, her fingers snagged metal and her keys rattled as she pulled them to her. That’s what she had to do. Pull herself together.

  Carolina slumped into the driver’s seat. Her breath rasped in and out. Oh, God. She’d been fired.

  She wanted to curl into a ball and hide from the world. Instead she took a deep breath.

  Step one—drive home.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ON THURSDAY, SAGE flipped through the hurricane coverage on the TV. Didn’t look good. A number of the models had Hurricane Lawrence heading this way.

  His phone announced a video chat. He muted the TV.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “How are you?” She blew him a kiss. “How’s working part-time been?”

  “Weird. I was exhausted Monday, but after four days, that’s improved.”

  “The doctor was right to only have you work part-time.” She sipped on a glass of water. �
��And the headaches?”

  He paused. Assessed, wanting to answer truthfully. “Bearable.”

  “Good. I worry about you.”

  A news ticker raced across the bottom of the TV screen. The new path was going to hit Georgia. A hurricane watch had been declared for all islands east of Savannah. “Damn.”

  She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  He shouldn’t have sworn aloud. “Looks like the hurricane is going to hit Georgia.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “At least the islands.”

  “Doesn’t Carolina live on an island?”

  “Tybee.” He paced to the sliders and stared out at the gunmetal-gray clouds.

  “How are Carolina and her mother doing?”

  “I... I’m not sure.” He sank against the sliding door. “We aren’t together anymore.”

  “What?” Disappointment slid across Mom’s face. “Please tell me it wasn’t because she didn’t tell you who her father was.”

  “No.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “She took something from the Fitzgeralds.”

  “Oh.” Mom frowned. “Was there an explanation?”

  He set his hand on the glass and walked through Carolina’s excuses.

  “That poor girl!” Mom exclaimed.

  “She stole from her half sisters.”

  “For her mother,” Mom shot back. “And it was a family heirloom.”

  “It was wrong. Her lack of...of honor keeps hurting the Fitzgeralds.” And him.

  Mom pushed some stray hairs back into her braid. “Is this about your father?”

  “No!” He shoved away from the view of the dark clouds. “It’s about you. All I can think of is what if Dad had had a child with that woman. How would I feel? How would you feel?”

  “Honey. You can’t blame Carolina for her parents.”

  “What she did was wrong?” His statement came out as a question.

  “Take a walk in her boots.” It was something Grandpa had always said. “What if I was the one with cancer? What would you do?”

  Would he ignore his morals for his mother?

  He wanted to say no. Life was black-and-white to him. There was a hard line between right and wrong.

  But this was his mother. “I...don’t know.”

  “Then don’t be such a hard-ass.”