As he stepped back onto the sidewalk, he could still see Brenda’s grin as she watched Chloe line up neat rows of cutlery. A quick check of his watch convinced him he had time to walk to the medical clinic, in case someone was around to shoot the breeze.
But the sight of his shadow propped against the wall across the street stopped him in his tracks. Either he could pretend nothing was out of the ordinary and go about his business—and worry all night long about why anyone would be following him or, worse, Chloe—or he could walk up to the guy in broad daylight and ask if he needed help finding South Main.
A quick scan of the fairly deserted sidewalks almost convinced him to go with his first option. Only action heroes and people who knew the script would do something crazy like confront someone on the street. Will was neither. He was just a guy.
But having a daughter to protect could make even the average man braver.
He trotted across the street at the crosswalk and held out a hand as the guy straightened to walk away. “Just a second.”
The man’s lips tightened but he relaxed back against the brick wall and Will slowed down. He didn’t want this to escalate.
“Are you lost? I can help.” Will pointed. “South Main is that direction.”
The guy reached into his jacket and pulled out a leather wallet to flash a badge. “Luke Hollister. Austin PD. Didn’t mean to alarm you.”
Will examined the badge.
“Okay. But what are you doing here?” Will handed the badge back.
Hollister studied him closely. “We’re interested in Sarah Hillman. You’ve heard about her father? We’d like to track him down and she’s our best link.”
Will was nearly overwhelmed by a wave of disgust at how dumb he’d been. If he’d been thinking for two seconds about all the trouble she could bring instead of all the help she needed, telling Sarah no would’ve been easier. And he certainly would not have given her a job, temporary or not.
“She’s not an employee. I’m doing her a favor. That’s all.” Did that sound better or worse than hiring her?
“She answered the phone when I called.” Hollister’s expression said, Try again.
“She’s borrowing the computer. In exchange, she answers the phone. She’s a socialite, not a real assistant.” Will propped his hands on his hips, determined to make it clear that his behavior was aboveboard. “I’d never let her touch anything that mattered.”
The detective raised an eyebrow. “She sounded pretty official on the phone.” He winked. “But I get it. She’s kind of flighty. Can’t hold down a real job. If you see any sign that she and Bobby Hillman have had contact, let me know. Immediately.” He held out a card. “The people who’d like to be paid for their hard work would appreciate it.”
Will studied the card. “You think she can lead you to Bobby?” What if Hollister was right? Bobby might not have been an honest guy, but he did dote on his princess.
And Sarah was near the end of her rope. She’d run to daddy pretty quick if she knew where to find him.
“I have a feeling Bobby’s close. Sarah’s sold most of her valuables. He doesn’t have much time left to save the day. You see anything interesting, call me. Otherwise, I’ll have to start visiting in a police car, park right in front of your door. Town this small, the gossip will spread fast and people will want to know why the police are interested in you.” Hollister slowly straightened. “Keep a close eye on the finances for that shelter. If you see any strange gifts, things you can’t account for, I’d like to know about that, too. Bobby knows Sarah’s clock is running out.”
Most loving fathers would have stayed to face the consequences.
Or not embezzled funds from people who worked for them at all.
Will turned the card over and over as he watched the guy slide into the driver’s seat of an unmarked police car.
“This new beginning is off to a great start,” he muttered as he crossed the street and headed back to the office. He needed to get rid of Sarah. Now.
But if Hollister was right, Sarah really was out of options.
Chloe’s cheerful wave from behind the diner’s counter confirmed that she hadn’t seen anything to worry her.
That was good. He wanted her to feel safe here.
That was his job as a father.
He paused at his own door and wondered what Big Bobby Hillman believed a father’s most important job was. They probably weren’t that different. Except Bobby had left Sarah on her own. With no money and no job in a town where no one would hire her.
And she was doing her best to save the shelter, anyway. Finding a job might have been a better goal.
But this wasn’t his problem.
He straightened his shoulders, grabbed the doorknob and shoved the door open. However hard it might be to say no to a beautiful woman, it was better for him at this point.
His resolve lasted five seconds.
Then he stumbled to a halt in front of the desk where he’d left a confident Sarah.
At some point, that woman had been replaced by one with a pink nose and brilliantly wet eyes.
“What happened?” The cop had been in and scared her. That was the only explanation.
“N-n-nothing. I’m having a day.” Sarah stood up quickly. “I should take a break, now that you’re back. I can scoop poop or walk dogs, something even my feeble brain can g-grasp.”
Will should have been happy with the sudden turn of events. He could explain to her that he needed the desk and her makeup would be no more ruined than it already was.
But he’d feel like the biggest jerk on the planet.
“You can’t leave yet.” Will sighed. “Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
NO TEARS. THAT HAD been her philosophy for as long as she could define philosophy, and this man had seen her break her own rules. What was wrong with her?
Watching Will and Luke Hollister talk on the corner had convinced her every bit of progress she’d made toward saving the shelter had been wrecked.
She couldn’t start over. This was it. Rock bottom.
If Will canceled her meeting with Rebecca, Stephanie and Jen, she had nowhere else to go. No one to call.
Would giving Hollister the number her father was using convince him she was innocent?
No. Of course not. Not even cooperation would prove that she had nothing to do with the embezzlement.
And the idea that giving them the number might lead to her father’s arrest...
She couldn’t do it. He had always been her hero.
In elementary school, she’d been the worst speller in her class, but her dad’s sponsoring of the third-grade field day had smoothed over most of her teacher’s concerns and she’d moved to fourth grade.
In middle school, it had been almost impossible to pass English, thanks to tests with long essay answers. Her father had convinced the principal that her advanced thinking required special arrangements. His money had bought her an expensive tutor and enough time to catch up.
By the time she’d made it to high school, she’d learned to work the teachers to get her own special arrangements and the other students had learned not to complain. Anyone who took on Sarah Hillman could expect her to retaliate.
College had been eye-opening. Without her father’s shield, her first composition teacher had identified the problem immediately. Writing essays by hand was impossible. Typing them removed the challenge of getting the letter from her brain to her hand and she could actually think about what she was writing.
Maybe school would have been different all along without Bobby Hillman’s defense.
She would be different if she’d learned to work through her challenges instead of protecting herself with barbs.
But he’d loved her. That she never doubted.
Now her father needed her. She wouldn’t let him down. Hollister could get the number on his own. Surely the Austin police were monitoring her phone—unless they did that only in mo
vies.
She couldn’t lose Will, either.
She hated the pity card, but she was running out of aces.
Feeling like a tightly knotted wet blanket of epic fail, Sarah said, “Never mind, Will. One more day will get it. I’ll be back in tomorrow with a fresh brain.”
Will scratched his temple. He had the universal expression of a man who knew something was needed to smooth things over, but the answer was completely escaping him.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Sarah stretched over to grab the two messages she’d taken. “You had three calls. One was a wrong number. The other two are here. I made note of the time, the caller’s name, phone number and any stated reason for calling underneath it, as your procedure outlines.” She pointed at the bottom. “And you didn’t request this, but I asked for a convenient time to return the call. I hope that’s okay.”
He flipped through the pieces of paper while he studied her handwriting. She’d done her best to keep it neat.
Had she made a mistake?
Instead of accusing her of manipulating him with tears or correcting her, Will said, “That’s helpful, Sarah. Thanks.”
The relief was hard to describe. Jumping off the high dive, uncertain that the pool was filled with water, and then enjoying the cool splash, that might come close.
She had another shot.
“I should add that to the phone call procedure,” he said. Will’s surprise wasn’t flattering but it seemed to be distracting him from finding a sniffling woman sitting behind his front desk.
Then he checked his watch. “You haven’t been here long. Are you sure you want to quit this early?” For some reason, he hesitated, then added, “I could take a look at what you’ve got. Make suggestions.”
He was offering to help her. Again.
Her deflection was working.
She wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised.
“I can’t get anything to print and I can’t make the numbers work today. Usually, it’s just the writing, but right now everything’s a jumble. If I walk away for a while, I can refocus.” She held up a finger. “And just because I’m not as good at this as you are, that doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”
There. That sounds like me.
He studied her tightly folded arms and then waved both hands. “Every day you wait, that’s one more day without the funds you need.”
Sarah tried to shake loose some of the tension in her arms. “I’m sorry. If you’ll help me print the jumble I’ve got, I’ll take it home and work on it. Bub’s pretty good with numbers.” She tried a charming smile.
It worked. “I could tell that about him.” Will grunted. “Soul of an accountant.”
He leaned around her to rest one hand on the mouse, and Sarah was suddenly aware that Will Barnes had gotten taller, broader and more handsome since high school.
Back then, he’d been lanky and awkward when everyone else was settling in. But he didn’t have that problem anymore.
Instead of being hyperaware of Will intruding in her space, she was relaxing. The more she’d worried about Hollister and her father and what she could do to make everything right, the tighter the muscles in her shoulders had gotten. But now the tension headache had dulled to a throb, and some of the fear faded.
“Oh, see, something’s wrong with the printer.” He pointed at the error message and turned away, giving her enough space to get her head back on.
At first, she was grateful. But her relief quickly faded. It was tempting to hand her problems over. First, she’d almost let Shelly create the proposal for her, and now she wanted to step back and let Will handle things.
But that wasn’t her life. Not anymore. She followed him to the printer to watch him open it up, yank and bang around inside as if the expensive piece of equipment was made of wood and rock and pull out a tangled sheet of paper. “Maybe Chloe jammed it and didn’t clear the feed mechanism.” He was shaking his head as he balled the paper up, then shot it in a high arc to land with a rattle in the trash can.
After a few whirs and beeps, the printer started spitting out sheets of paper.
“Unless you stop it, we’re going to have about ten copies of my rambling.” She squinted at the buttons and hit the big red X.
Will rolled his eyes and scooted back to sit on the edge of the desk. “All right. That’s it. What’s the deal? Why are you so sure I’m about to insult your intelligence?”
“That would only be fair, wouldn’t it? A tiny bit of payback.” Sarah sat behind the desk to assemble the printouts she needed. The rest she stacked neatly. “You need a recycle bin.”
“Nope. Everything goes in the shredder.” He pointed under her desk. “Don’t change the subject.”
Irritated at his tone, Sarah slapped the stapler hard on the desk. The loud bang and crunch of the staple joining all her hard work was satisfying.
She was too tired to come up with an answer that would preserve her dignity, so she said, “I should be able to figure out the basics like pushing Print.”
“And you did.” Will tapped the desk. “When I left, you were take-charge. When I got back, you were sniffing into your hankie. What happened? Did someone come in, upset you?”
Sarah wondered who he thought might walk into his office and hurt her feelings so bad she’d be crying about it.
Hollister was the logical option, but she didn’t want to get into a discussion of the policeman who’d been dogging her steps.
So she’d try a different version of the truth, the one she’d been setting the stage to reveal.
This one might get her some sympathy.
“I have a learning challenge. Makes it hard to write when I’m under stress.” She sighed. “Without stress, I do fine.”
“Like dyslexia?” He picked up a sheet of paper to read what she had, but Sarah snatched it away.
“Dysgraphia. Trouble with writing and organizing words.” She shrugged. “Once I made it out of high school, things got easier.”
“Yeah, high school was pretty stressful for a lot of kids.” Will’s lips turned up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Bullies and such.”
Sarah wasn’t sure how to answer that. Would an apology mean anything at this point?
At least Hollister was forgotten.
“Who knew bullies had their own issues?” Will eased off the desk. “And at least we don’t have go back to high school ever again.”
He was going to let her off the hook. Again. Sarah heaved a gusty sigh. “I’m sorry, okay? I mean it. I’m sorry. I just... I knew what it was like to be picked on and I didn’t enjoy that. It was...survival.”
Will stared out the window as he considered that. “Survival. I never would have guessed you understood that.”
Their eyes met. The silence in the small room was charged. With a past like theirs, hurt feelings and the desire to get revenge could derail any partnership.
But he was willing to let that go.
If she’d let him.
All her life, she’d circled men who had the right jobs or account balances, but Will Barnes convinced her she was smart enough and strong enough to keep trying.
Falling for a guy like that could mean a lifetime of...confidence and security.
How wonderful that could be.
“Let me know if you want some help with the budget.” Will walked toward his office. “Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As she walked out of the office, she turned the problem of Will, his kindness and her own inability to repay any of it over and over in her head. She was still working on the problem when she pulled up in front of the shelter. Everything was quiet when Bub met her at the door. “Hey, Shelly, I’m back. Any emergencies?”
Shelly bustled around the corner, retired veterinarian Les close behind. “How did it go?” She waved crossed fingers, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. “It’s hard to work with my fingers all tangled, I’ll tell you.”
“Will’s going to set up a meeting. He also loaned me
a computer.” She put the stack of paper on the counter and covered her face. “I’m going to pull this off.”
Again with the emotion. Sarah pressed her hands to her stinging eyes. Whether it was the stress of the situation, the hope or complete mental breakdown, she was losing her grip.
Sarah waved a hand desperately in front of her face while Shelly hovered beside her, her forehead wrinkling.
“Did you have any doubt?” Shelly raised her eyebrows and Sarah realized she’d gotten pretty good at bluffing. Shelly had never once imagined they might fail.
Surely that was a sign she could fool the rest of town when the time came.
And with Will in her corner, it wouldn’t be bluffing so much as convincing.
And that felt good.
“Let me change and I’ll help walk the dogs.” Sarah turned to go, but not before Shelly shot a look at Les.
Then Shelly blushed and nodded. “Yes. I could use your help.”
Les’s shoulders drooped. “Well, if you don’t need me, then I’ll be on my way. See you both tomorrow?” His eyes were locked on Shelly’s face. At her nod, he saluted and left. Shelly trailed behind him and waved through the open door.
Young love. So awkward and sweet at the same time.
Why did she suddenly feel a hundred years old?
Sarah’s lips twitched as she picked up her papers and led Bub back into her office.
It was time to work out some of the stupid emotions of the day doing something she was good at. As soon as she’d put on her jeans and ragged T-shirt, she dropped onto the sofa next to Bub, hauled him into her lap and rested her chin on his head.
Bub overflowed her lap, had ever since the day they’d met.
But he never once argued. Instead, he curled his head to press it under her chin and let out a happy sigh.
“I missed you, too.” Sarah ran a finger over his silky ear. “Everything is better with you right here.” She imagined giving Bub to some stranger and the tip of her nose began to sting with a vengeance. Tears spilled over. And Sarah realized she had to get a grip.
On Bub. He was hers. These moments made everything bearable.
Heart's Refuge (Lucky Numbers) Page 8
