First Choice, Second Chance

by Lynn Rae

  Unsure if it made any difference, Emily carried the wrapper back to Shelly’s office and found her boss rapidly typing away at her computer. Not wanting to peer over her shoulder and look at the screen, she took a seat in front of the desk after placing the brown paper on the desk next to the note and box. Shelly glanced up and went back to typing.

  “I’m contacting him now.”

  “Should I call the others?”

  Shelly shook her head, staring at her e-mail in-box with intensity. “Roger and Dave will just get in the way. Paul will be too distracted to be useful.”

  Emily thought on that a moment. “Is something wrong?”

  “With Paul?” Shelly looked over the top of the monitor and tilted her head. “Yes, something’s wrong with him all right.”

  A shiver of concern wriggled through her stomach, and Shelly leaned forward in her chair. “Is he sick?”

  “Damn it, e-mail back, you little creeps.” Shelly glanced back at her and frowned. “Emily, don’t play coy. You know exactly what’s wrong with him.”

  Emily shook her head, the excitement about discovering the statue’s ear tempered by being one-on-one with her boss, the cranky woman who happened to be the sister of the man she was falling for.

  “Don’t hurt my brother. This is all new for him. I’m keeping this professional between us now, but if you break his heart, this will become an untenable work situation.” Shelly’s threat was clear and inarguable.

  “I won’t.” Emily drew in a shaky breath as Shelly stared at her, her attention no longer distracted by the e-mail in-box.

  “He’s a quiet man, and he’s never been all that experienced when it comes to women. Especially younger, ah, attractive women. I’m worried his judgment is somewhat impaired in this instance.”

  She was worried about Paul’s judgment? Shelly’s censorious look sparked a flare of resentment. This thing between her and Paul might have come on strong and fast, but the genuine connection pulling them together was good for them both. She’d never been so happy or excited for the future, and Paul relished every moment he had with her. It was apparent in his touch, his attention, his soft words of praise and promises kept.

  “Shelly, can we put aside the supervisor-employee thing for a moment?”

  The other woman’s eyebrows lifted, and she gave a small nod as she pushed the laptop to the side of her desk. Emily took a shaky breath and reminded herself to be strong, be bold. Paul deserved her support.

  “I care for Paul very much, and he cares for me. Neither one of us are reckless or superficial. I know you know that about him, and I’d hope my behavior here over the past few months has shown you the same about me. We’re serious.” Emily had meant she and Paul approached life seriously, but upon reflection, she realized the other meaning of the word was true as well. They were serious about each other.

  Shelly took this in and inclined her head. “Have you talked about what’s going to happen when the funding for this job runs out?”

  Emily’s belly contracted into a cold twist. She’d known her time in Palmer had a ticking expiration limit but had ignored it in the hopes that some miracle might occur and she’d shine so much they wouldn’t want her to leave. “No, not yet. Other things have been more pressing.”

  “Like Courtney and this whole statue disaster.” Shelly sighed and tapped her fingers against the desktop as she glanced at the computer monitor. “Those have been pretty distracting. But if you’re serious, and you care about each other as much as you claim, you need to do it. I wasn’t going to tell you this until it was official, but we’ve been working on next year’s budget and there’s no room in it to make your position permanent. The grant funding it now was a one-time award; we can’t go back for more.”

  Defeat filled her, and she willed herself not to cry. She’d known this was the most likely outcome, but it still hurt. Shelly glanced at her and shook her head once.

  “I want you to know, I would have endorsed you for it, if it had been possible. And I’ll write you a great recommendation for whatever job you apply for this spring.”

  “I understand. Thank you for letting me know. It gives me plenty of time to make plans.” There wasn’t much more Emily could say. This whole conversation was straining the limits of professional courtesy.

  Unexpectedly, Shelly stood up from behind her desk and clumped over to take a seat next to Emily. She tried not to flinch since Shelly had never gotten this close to her before. “I didn’t tell you this as some shifty way to come between you. But you deserved to know, he deserves to know this is a short-lived thing. Maybe that’s for the best, it’ll hurt less if—”

  A ping from the computer interrupted her, and she scooted back behind her desk. “It’s him. Her. Whoever, I don’t care.”

  Emily didn’t really care either. She was numb inside. Working up some enthusiasm for the statue was beyond her at this point. Telling Paul was going to be agony. Looking for distraction, she focused on Shelly who was nearly vibrating in her chair.

  “Tonight! They want the money tonight.” Shelly shook her head. “They want you to deliver it, alone. Why you?” She looked away from the computer and narrowed her eyes. “How do they even know about you?”

  Emily shrugged, still reeling from the news of her impending job loss and soon to be Paul-less life.

  “Huh. Evidently you impressed someone.” Shelly’s tone might have read as skeptical, but Emily was beyond noticing the little digs any longer. Paul needed to know, as soon as she had a quiet moment to tell him, but it looked like she was going to be deeply involved in some clandestine experience that night.

  Paul didn’t like this. He was crouched behind a Dumpster under the bleachers at the high school football field, trying to peer through a gap between several of the trash containers parked there. It was a perfect place to hide and watch the action on the field, but he didn’t like being so far from Emily. She’d been subdued as they planned this encounter, and he chalked it up to nervous anticipation.

  It was almost time for the exchange, five minutes to go the last time he checked his watch. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the dimly illuminated field where Emily waited on the fifty-yard line.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he wanted to curse. Before he even looked at it, he knew it was Shelly chafing because she was sidelined to the car for this little adventure. Tucking the phone inside his jacket so the light wouldn’t show, he answered with a whisper.

  “Paul, what’s going on? I can’t see a damned thing from here.” Her voice crackled loudly, and he winced. She was parked as close as she could get to the main entrance and had a distant view of the playing field.

  “Nothing, it isn’t time yet. Emily is right where she’s supposed to be, and we’re waiting.”

  “I still don’t see why I’m here and the two of you are there.”

  “It’s because you aren’t allowed to walk on uneven surfaces, and this whole area is one big uneven surface.” Paul glanced down at the gravel under his feet. Other than a few paved pads in front of the concession and locker room, everything else in the area was grass or loose stone. Knowing Shelly, she’d take off after the guy or gal after the exchange was made and end up falling and injuring herself. “If you promise not to talk, I’ll just leave my phone on and you can hear whatever happens.”

  “Fine. Don’t mess this up, Paul.” Shelly went quiet, and he stared up at the bottoms of the bleacher seats above him with relief. Then he remembered the meet-up time and returned to squinting at Emily so far away. She was wearing her rust-colored jacket so he could see her better, although she’d joked she should wear leather to better fit in with her role of passing off the payoff with the mysterious blackmailer. He knew his blood pressure was elevated with stress as he worried that Emily would be frightened or even injured in the handoff.

  There was a movement in the shadows at the far end of the football field, and he shuffled closer to the gap between the Dumpsters, wishing for the hundredth
time he was standing out there rather than her. But the vandals had been very adamant about who they wanted to bring the money and that she should be alone. Fifty feet away was about as alone as he cared to have her. The movement solidified into a tall figure walking her way, a man judging by the gait, and Paul’s hands clenched. Emily had to be frightened. What woman wanted to face some strange man in the dark all alone?

  There was enough illumination from nearby security lights that he could see Emily straighten her shoulders as the man walked toward her. He belatedly remembered Shelly and whispered an update into the phone. Emily removed her hands from her pockets when the man was a few feet away and although he couldn’t hear her voice clearly, he knew she was asking if he had something for her. The man nodded, his face obscured by a hat and a pulled up hood. Paul wished he could see, sure he might recognize him in some way, but the light was too vague. He reviewed the agreed-upon plan; the stranger handed over the key and instructions on where the head was stored followed by Emily giving the money. Then both parties were to leave the football field in opposite directions.

  Evidently, Emily was satisfied by the man’s answer, because she held out her hand for the key. Paul muttered this to his sister and went silent, sure he heard something moving overhead. The metal above him squeaked slightly, and he decided it was the breeze. That, and his overall unhappiness with the situation was making him jumpy as hell. He watched as the man reached in his jacket and pulled out something small, holding it out for Emily to take. She looked it over and asked a question he couldn’t hear, followed by the man nodding and holding out his hand. With deliberate movements, Emily pulled out the large white envelope containing the cash, which the hooded man snatched away.

  Paul jumped at the sudden movement, deciding at that moment to forget the plan of him remaining hidden so as not to spook away the bad guy. He shuffled along the row of Dumpsters, intent on getting out to Emily, but the sound of running feet brought him up short and he looked up over the barricade to see the hooded man running along the path toward the parking lot.

  “Shelly, he’s headed your way. Try to get a look at him. I’m going to Emily.”

  Paul made his way toward the front of the bleachers, slowed down by having to duck and avoid slamming his head on angled supports. Emily was walking toward him quickly and his heartbeat calmed when he realized she wasn’t upset. He heard more creaking above him and glanced up in confusion. It sounded like someone was in the press box at the very top of the structure. There was the sound of a door opening and then the hollow metallic clang of footsteps. Paul saw Emily look up and falter in her steps, and he rounded the corner to the open space next to the concession and looked up too.

  It was Roger and Dave making their noisy way down the steps. They were looking at Emily and Paul stayed quiet, too shocked by their appearance to make a noise. Suspicious of what the two men had been up to, he decided to keep out of sight but still get closer to Emily.

  “Hey, Emily, how’d it go?” Roger asked in a strangely friendly tone. Dave kept moving as if he had a pressing appointment in the next county.

  “Fine. What are you guys doing here? I thought you were in Walnut Hollow scouting out a ball game.” She sounded irritated. Paul made a shushing gesture at her when she glanced his way as he kept creeping along the side of the bleachers, Roger’s and Dave’s shoes visible in his line of sight. With a start, he recognized the brown leather sneakers from the online photo and everything tumbled into place.

  “Oh, that fell through so we thought we’d sneak over here and keep an eye on you.” Dave, who had by now reached the steps leading down to the ground, paused as he waited for Roger to keep up. Paul was close, if the other man looked to his right and down, he’d spot him, but Dave was staring at Emily. She was taking deliberate steps toward them, a slight frown on her face.

  “How’d the exchange go? Seemed fine from where we were sitting.” Roger gestured up at the press box.

  “It was fine.”

  “Let’s see the key and the instructions.”

  Emily stopped and shook her head. She was about ten feet away, and he could see by the tilt of her chin that she knew something wasn’t right. She stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. “It’s better if I keep it in my pocket. I’d hate to drop it in the gravel; we’d never find it in the dark.”

  “Well, come on, let’s go to where it says the head is. My car is parked over on the other side of the field.”

  Emily shook her head. “Can’t. My ride is waiting for me.”

  At that, Paul stepped back from his concealment near the metal crossbars supporting the side of the bleachers. Both Dave’s and Roger’s eyes widened with shock when they spotted him.

  “Paul, how long have you been there?”

  “Not long. Just keeping an eye on things, like you guys did.”

  “Paul!” Shelly’s voice screeched over the open phone line and everyone jumped. “What’s going on there? You’ll never guess what I did!”

  Paul pulled out the phone and held it to his ear, sure he didn’t want Roger and Dave to learn anything else. “What’s happened?”

  “I hit a guy with the car. No, I hit him with the car door, and he’s down.” Shelly’s excitement was clear, and he sighed, not liking having yet another complication in this sticky mess.

  “Is he hurt?”

  “Not really. You’ll never guess who it is.” Shelly made some indistinct noises but continued on in a rapid voice. “No, you sit there until the police arrive. Sorry, Paul, he was acting like he was going crawl away. It’s that Dillon Herter, Roger’s nephew, who works for him at the dealership.”

  “Is this guy wearing a black hoodie and ball cap?” Paul needed confirmation Shelly hadn’t assaulted some random man wandering in the school parking lot at night and was unsurprised when his sister confirmed Dillon was wearing the same attire as the man who’d approached Emily just minutes ago. “Good, that’s our guy. Hold on to him, and I’ll be there in a few minutes. I just want to wrap up something here.”

  “Kiss her later, Paul, we need to get moving.”

  Paul slid the phone back in his pocket, sure Shelly could restrain the young man even if she was partly hobbled. He wanted to get some things clear before they all headed out to face the music.

  “What do you mean, that’s our guy?” Roger spoke up even as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

  “Don’t bother looking for a text from Dillon, Roger. Shelly’s got him, and the police are on their way.” Knowing he was going to confront the two men in seconds made Paul’s blood race. His dismay at what they’d so callously done rivaled his disgust for how they’d treated Emily. She must have noticed something in his tone, because she walked quickly to his side and looped her arm through his, either for support or to restrain him.

  Roger blinked and pressed his mouth closed as Dave spluttered, “What the hell are you talking about, Paul? What police? These guys were very clear that no police should be involved or they’d destroy your great-great-uncle’s head.”

  “I’m aware of what those guys said. I’m also aware nothing is going to happen to the sculpture while I’m looking at the two of you.”

  Silence greeted his remark as Emily tightened her grip on his arm.

  “I don’t know what you’ve been smoking. Let’s get going before they get over there and move it.”

  “Over where? I never showed you the instructions,” Emily spoke up in a sharp tone. Paul wanted to cheer even as he wondered what he’d do if Roger and Dave made a break for it. He doubted he’d be able to subdue either of them since they each outweighed him by at least thirty pounds, and he was no ninja fighter.

  “Well, wherever we’re supposed to go.” Roger had recovered enough to reply as he scowled at his phone.

  Paul was tired of fencing with the two of them. He wanted to get out of the cold, go home, take off his shoes, and touch Emily after his hands warmed up a little bit. “You guys have had the head all along
. Roger, I recognize your shoes from the picture of the head. And your class ring. I’m sure if we did a side-by-side comparison of that hand and yours there’d be a perfect match of wrinkles and busted knuckles.”

  “I’ll bust a knuckle on your chops, Paul.” Dave’s face flushed, and he advanced down the steps, the metal squealing under his weight. The sudden wail of a siren and the rapid play of red-and-blue flashing lights announced the arrival of Palmer’s finest. Emily practically melded herself to his side as the other man clomped closer.

  “You want to add assault to vandalism and extortion? Shelly, did you hear all this?”

  “You bet I did. Tell those dipshits to get on out here so we can get this wrapped up with the minimum of fuss and muss.”

  His blood thudding through his body, Paul waited to see what the men would do. He wouldn’t put it past them to make a run for their car. Dave glanced at Roger, who shrugged his shoulders.

  “Dillon’s gonna squeal any second. The kid’s a wimp, just like his dad.”

  Roger’s tacit admission of guilt hit Paul like a hot wave. “Why?”

  It was a simple question, but he knew no matter what the other men might say or not, he’d never really understand their motivations. Had it been intended to incite school spirit before the game, or was it just a petty way to cause distress to Emily? Knowing Roger and Dave, they’d probably cooked it up as a colossal joke over beers one night.

  “It’s just a hunk of metal, and it’ll get fixed good as new anyway,” Dave said with a shrug. Roger gave his friend a sharp look, probably not liking how easily he was implicating them.

  Paul couldn’t believe his opinion of the two men could have gotten any lower, but it did. Their monumental disregard of it all floored him. He gestured toward the gate and followed Dave and Roger as they walked toward the parking lot; the police car’s whirling light casting strange shadows over them. Emily wriggled her fingers against his arm, and he looked at her. Her brow was creased with worry, and he realized she had to be exhausted.

  “After we answer questions, do you think we’re going to be able to get the head? I’m worried about it.”