“Forty?” She bit her lip. “Really? You think that many businesses would be willing to put the boxes on display?”
“Better to have them and not need them,” he said.
“Okay.” Her doubtful expression was cute. That was unfair.
“I’m headed to the medical practice on the corner. I’ll stop at the printer next door, ask them to work up a bid.” Will abruptly turned toward Chloe so Sarah wouldn’t seem him clenching his teeth. “If I bring them some business, maybe they’ll listen to my pitch.”
He eased the headphones away from Chloe’s ears to get her attention.
“I’m headed out. Want to come with me or head down to the diner?”
She tilted her head over the arm of the chair and held up Sarah’s phone. “Okay if I stay here with you? Your score is impossible. This is going to take some work.”
Will glanced over his shoulder at Sarah, who shrugged at him. “It’s okay with me if it works for you. I promise not to warp her too much.”
He didn’t need to look back at Chloe to feel those begging eyes of hers. They had levels. Right now, they were set to Stun.
“Please, Dad? I don’t want to listen to a lot of business talk.” She wasn’t complaining yet, but if he forced her to drag herself out of the chair, surrender the phone and march down the sidewalk, that would change.
“Fine. I’ll call to check in every half hour.” He waited for Chloe’s nod. When she put the headphones back on, he knew it was settled for her.
“We’ll be fine. Chloe will still be in that chair when you get back. As long as my battery holds out.”
Will pretended to check the time. He had to admit, Sarah hadn’t once unleashed her powers of destruction since she’d walked into his office with Bub on a leash—not on him or Chloe or even Cece.
He glanced over to see her waiting patiently, the corner of her mouth twitching. She was amused. At least one of them was. Chloe’s growing up was breaking his heart in tiny little cracks.
Will opened his mouth to give orders or...something, but Sarah held up one hand. “We’ll be fine.”
He had one foot out on the sidewalk before he knew how he felt about the newest development.
Leaving his daughter with Sarah was a small decision but it felt big.
This meeting on Saturday might not come soon enough.
CHAPTER NINE
SARAH KNEW SHE should leave. Cece Grant wouldn’t be the only client to complain about Will’s new secretary. But she was stuck. Leaving would mean finding a new job and losing the small check she’d already spent three times in her head.
Will was honoring their agreement.
But as soon as she had her meeting and a solid plan for the shelter, she’d free him from it.
And do what?
That was the scary question. If she had the answer, doing the right thing would be so much easier.
But Will and his daughter—curled up on the fancy couch, bopping her head to music only she could hear—depended on this business.
Finish the budget. In case you need to leave soon.
The weight across her shoulders made it difficult to concentrate, but Sarah did her best to stay focused.
Every now and then, Chloe piped up to give her a status report. So far, Sarah’s high score was in no danger of being replaced.
Sarah was pretty sure that not gloating about holding her own against a twelve-year-old had to be a sign of her recent growth.
For so long, she’d had to fight mean and hard so that no one knew she was the slowest kid in her English class. But math had been easy. Fun. Something she could be proud of.
And now she had something new to be proud of—Paws for Love.
“Almost time for the lunch rush,” Chloe said as she slid Sarah’s phone across the desk. “Brenda could use the help and your battery’s dead.” When Sarah raised both eyebrows, Chloe shoved her hands in her back pockets. “Sorry. I wanted to get a better score.”
“But you didn’t?” Sarah dropped her lifeless phone into her purse. The next time she came into work, she’d better remember the charger. The gleam in Chloe’s eye suggested she’d be up for a rematch.
“Nope.” Chloe stopped with one hand on the door. “Thanks for loaning me your phone. I keep hoping Dad will replace my tablet.”
“You could buy one with your part of the tip money.” Sarah pursed her lips. “Eventually.”
“Yeah, like next summer.” Chloe snorted. “Did you see Jelly today?”
Sarah barely stopped herself from grinning. “Yep. She sits in the window and watches down the hallway for people to walk by. I wave good morning every day.”
“Good.” Chloe tapped her sneaker on the floor.
Instead of turning back to the report, Sarah waited.
“Is it expensive to adopt a cat?”
Sarah had to smother her victory dance. Jelly and Chloe might still make the perfect match. “Well, the adoption fee’s not too bad, but you have to think about all the other stuff. Vaccinations. Food and treats. Toys. It can add up. Besides that, cats like Jelly need time. She wants to be with her person.”
Chloe hummed. “Yeah. And I don’t live here all the time.” She rubbed her forehead and then sighed. “Want me to bring you something back from the diner?”
Sarah scooted around the desk to pad barefoot over to the door. “Nah. No money.”
The sidewalk was warm when she stepped out to watch Chloe trot down to the diner. Sarah never would’ve volunteered to hang out with a preteen, but Chloe was easy to get along with. And funny. Smart.
It was easy to see Will’s influence in her. As soon as she reached the door of the diner, Chloe waved the peace sign and disappeared inside.
That was less Will Barnes. And the pink clip-in hair probably irritated his upscale sensibilities.
There was still no doubt Will loved Chloe, even if he must be confused by her often.
Sarah remembered being that age. She’d confused her father on a daily basis.
Sarah scooted her heels aside as she slid back into the comfortable desk chair.
Sitting here was a vacation compared to the shelter’s dilapidated chair. She closed her eyes for a minute to enjoy it.
Maybe that was just life: kids started out like their parents but eventually took the pieces they liked and added new ones to become who they were meant to be.
And that’s enough resting your eyes. Back to work. The clock is ticking.
She was getting close. If she could focus, she might finish the first draft today. The next time the door opened, Sarah glanced up with a smile that slowly faded when she saw the detective who’d been making little surprise visits. Here he was again, twice in two days.
Did that mean they were getting closer to finding her father? Or closer to giving up? Surely bigger, more important cases were springing up every day.
“Hollister, it hasn’t been that long since the last time we spoke. I still don’t know anything new.” Sarah fidgeted with the pen and highlighter on top of the binder. When they were perfectly parallel, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“No phone calls. No emails. No postcards that say, ‘Wish you were here.’ You’ve had zero contact with your father. He could be dead in a ditch somewhere.” Hollister grimaced. “But you’re telling me you aren’t worried. You haven’t tried to track him down through less...obvious means.”
Did he know about the text? Should she tell him?
“There was no plan. I don’t know where my father is. He’s...somewhere, doing his thing, or he’s dead in a ditch, but there’s nothing I can do about it.” Saying the words immediately triggered the knot in her stomach. Sarah rested her elbows on the desk and covered her face with both hands, so weary of having the same conversation every single time Hollister showed up.
Hollister was only trying to scare her.
But what if something had happened? What else could explain the length of her father’s absence?
What if he was one
of those John Does who turn up with amnesia? What if he hadn’t come home because he couldn’t?
But she had the text.
She wished she understood why her father had left her here to deal with the consequences alone. How could he expect her to fend for herself when neither one of them had done much to make sure she could?
Sarah reached for her phone, ready to give Hollister the unfamiliar number, and remembered it was dead.
The detective braced both hands on the polished surface of Will’s fine desk. “Reconsider working in a place like this, Sarah. Barnes has all sorts of federal regulations to meet, not to mention the expectations of wealthy and powerful people who are going to frown on the daughter of an embezzler manning the phones. Do him a favor and leave.”
Hearing this from Hollister instead of Will, the guy who’d talked his way out of either firing her or losing a client that same morning, was hard. Will had reason. Hollister was using her conscience and fear against her.
At least he assumed she still had a conscience. That might be progress.
When the arm of the chair creaked to protest her strangling grip, Sarah forced her fingers to uncurl.
“Go ahead. Tell us where your father is. If we find him soon, there might be something left after he pays back his victims. The longer this drags on, the less likely that is.” Hollister stepped back from the desk and the air returned to her lungs. “You don’t have much left to sell, do you, Sarah?”
She forced herself to meet his gaze, determined not to give him the satisfaction of looking away. This guy didn’t deserve her help. Of the two of them, it was clear who was born without a conscience.
“Thank you for your warning, Hollister. I’ll turn in my resignation, and I hope Will’s business won’t be damaged by my current problems. How’s that? Get what you came for?” She never would have spoken to a policeman like this before. She’d never felt the need to.
“No, I didn’t get what I came for, not yet. But I will. As soon as the money runs out, you’ll find a way to get to Daddy. That’s how you work, am I right?” He slid a card across the desk. “Call me before you do anything stupid.”
She wadded up the card and tossed it in the trash. “Will do.”
Sarah tilted her chin and waited for him to leave. As soon as the door shut, she curled up, both hands clutched to her aching stomach.
Every time Hollister appeared out of the blue, Sarah felt the same. First, the shock robbed her of breath, until outrage chased it away. Today, there was an added flavor of guilt and worry.
So far, her “job” had involved answering a phone that wasn’t ringing and making notes on the procedure manual to collect a paycheck she desperately needed for work she really hadn’t done.
All of that together would justify some guilt.
And her father... An honest man wouldn’t have disappeared as he had. Hollister might be terrible, but his persistence suggested the police knew something she didn’t.
Her father never cared much what other people thought. Only real fear of consequences would have driven him from town. Now that her doubts about his innocence were impossible to ignore, finding him and getting out of town was more important than ever.
Her dad was a good man, her hero. Even good men could make mistakes. When she found him, everything would be okay.
Sarah was still doodling question marks all over the margins of her notepad when the door opened, spilling warm air into the office.
Steeling her nerve to chase Hollister off again, Sarah had to do a double take when Will’s stepsister, Jen, marched in.
At least Jen was unprepared, too.
She smoothed her shiny bob back behind one ear, jammed her sunglasses on top of her head and said, “What are you doing here?”
In a town where most people pretended to be her friend, Jen had always made it clear that she was happy to be Sarah Hillman’s number one enemy.
High school was a long time ago, but Jen could hold a grudge.
Knowing exactly where she stood was refreshing, but Sarah always tried to keep her distance. Too bad she was stuck behind this desk.
“I’ve been working,” she said, “answering the phone.” Sarah pointed awkwardly at the phone and willed it to ring in a demonstration of how important her work was. It didn’t ring.
Jen tapped the toe of her expensive cowboy boots. And Sarah knew just how expensive they’d been. She’d had to ignore the pinch of sadness at handing them over to Arlene at the resale shop.
“And Will was nice enough to let me use the computer to work up a...report.” Sarah had no idea whether Will had mentioned her connection to Paws for Love.
That was a good reason to avoid the subject today. With Rebecca and Stephanie around, neither of whom had drawn much of her fire in high school, her chances were better.
“You. Working on a report.” Jen snorted. “Never mind. I don’t want to know about some gossipy list of trash talk. I can get that on the internet any day. Where’s my brother? I’d like to tell him why he needs to dump you out on your...ear.”
Sarah squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “He’s not in.”
Jen strode back to the door. “Fine. I only stopped in because... Doesn’t matter.”
“Want to leave a message? He didn’t say when he’d be back, but Chloe’s down at the diner.” Jen hadn’t asked about her niece, but if Sarah was in the same spot, she’d want to get to know Chloe better. Sarah flipped open the procedure manual but there was no entry for personal visitors.
But Jen was also a client, so she read, “If you’d like to tell me the purpose of your visit and a number to reach you, I’ll have him call you as soon as he returns.” She tapped the page. “And a convenient time.” Sarah picked up her pen to make a note.
Jen shook her head slowly. “You almost sounded like him. How are you doing that? Shouldn’t you be out burning hundreds and having your picture taken at some ratty club in Austin? Daddy’s defection has really cramped your style, I guess.”
Sarah flopped back against the chair. “I’ve never burned a hundred-dollar bill.” She’d wasted money, but if her father had ever caught her burning it, even he would have washed his hands of her. “And the ratty clubs...” Sarah sighed. “Not even those promoters want to hire the daughter of an embezzler. I’m too notorious for most jobs and not nearly notorious enough for those guys.”
But if the shelter closed and she had no other choice, gaining notoriety would surely be the easiest way to collect a healthy paycheck.
“But my dad... He’ll be back. You’ll all see how you misjudged him.” Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, drawing on the old bravado.
Her words sounded a little hollow, even to her own ears.
Until she was ready to cooperate with Hollister, she’d insist her father was misunderstood.
He would have done the same for her.
Jen snorted. “There’s always waitressing. You know, like my mom? She couldn’t dress me in designer labels or rent boats on Lake Travis for my sixteenth birthday, but she managed to keep food on the table. And now she waits tables. At her age.”
Sarah studied Jen’s face. She was surprised that being excluded from her birthday blowout would still sting—even more than the numerous barbs she’d thrown her way.
“You must be loving this. How the tables have turned.” Sarah took a deep breath and held it before she let it out. “Those are great boots. They used to be mine.”
Jen clicked the heels together. “I know. And I have the style to pull them off.” Jen looked away and shoved her hair behind her ear again.
Did she regret her dig? Sarah had experienced that instant remorse for saying something awful and the grim determination not to back down. And she couldn’t even argue with Jen’s insult. Sarah had always been more Fifth Avenue than Texas chic.
“Well, it looks like they were made for you.” In reality, they’d been handcrafted for Sarah, but there was no way she was bringing that up. “And I deserved that,
so...I apologize for treating you badly in high school, for not inviting you to my party and for a million other things. I’m sorry.”
There. A nice apology.
Sarah was proud of herself.
Jen’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course you apologize. You want something.” She waved around the office. “That’s pretty clear. You never did anything nice without wanting something. To cut in line, to take my seat in the bleachers, to get homework answers.”
More truth.
Sarah wished she’d known how difficult the day would be. She never would’ve left Paws for Love. Dogs and cats don’t list a person’s shortcomings in black and white.
“You’re right. Why didn’t you tell me no?”
“Because I was afraid of you,” Jen said, enunciating clearly. “You and that pack of vultures that circled you. One ‘no’ and the whole school would have been laughing at some clever nickname or witty remark about my dorky clothes.” Jen waved her hands in the air. “Even saying yes was no guarantee. And all I wanted was to be left alone. It’s hard to be one person facing off against this huge crowd.”
Sarah sighed at the irony. If she didn’t know before, she was learning just how difficult that could be.
“Why were you so awful?” Jen’s narrowed eyes didn’t hold much curiosity. “I’ve been dying to ask that for years. You have everything. Why tear other people down?”
There was no easy way to dodge Jen’s questions. Normally, she could wiggle out of tight spots. But as she tried to come up with a flip answer, Sarah realized that Jen deserved the truth.
“Do you remember seventh-grade English? Miss Lamb’s class?” Sarah waited for Jen’s nod. “Me, trying to write on the board? And everyone laughing at how often she had to correct my spelling?” If Jen needed more details, Sarah could remember the dress she was wearing, which of her brand-new shoes she’d picked and the color of the gigantic bow in her hot-rollered curls.
“‘I swear, Sarah Hillman, your daddy better buy you a dictionary for your birthday.’” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “He did not, in case you were wondering.”
Heart's Refuge (Lucky Numbers) Page 10
