Broken Trust

by Shannon Baker

  “Hi, Nora.”

  She forced words. “What do you want?” It sounded mean. Too late to take it back.

  He studied the ground in front of them then caught her eye. “I was hoping … I thought maybe … Oh hell. How are you?”

  Finally the shell hardened around her heart. She stepped around him. “Best day of my life. See ya.”

  His hand shot out as if to grab her but he thought better of it. He let it drop. “Wait. Please.”

  She stopped. Couldn’t help it.

  He strode around and faced her again. “I know this is a shock and not exactly the way I wanted to make contact again. But …”

  “But what?” She didn’t want to hear him speak … She wanted to hear everything he had to say … She wanted to run away … She wanted to step into his arms.

  What had he been doing for the last year? Did he think about her? Did he care about her now as much as he did in Flagstaff ? Should she have cut him out of her life before they even had a chance to know each other?

  Pink tinged Cole’s ears. That happened when he was embarrassed. Gaa! Nora didn’t want to know these details about him. She spun away and bumped into a white-haired man wheeling a cart full of silly hats.

  Cole steadied her. “Abigail called.”

  She should have known. “Holy mother of dog. What did she tell you?”

  A high school–aged boy and girl approached with clipboards. One said, “We’re with Greenpeace and wondered if you’d sign this petition.”

  Nora snatched the clipboard and scribbled her name. She must seem like a lunatic because as soon as she handed it back to them, they scurried away.

  “Are you okay?” Cole asked.

  Okay? For a year she’d struggled to get solid footing. Cole had a way of slicing her heart open and she couldn’t risk that exposure now. “I’m fine.”

  He squinted at her. “Abigail didn’t say much but she said you needed help.”

  Cole liked to show up when she needed saving; if she had any idea of being whole and sound again, she needed to work out her own life. “I don’t know why she’d say that. I have an appointment so I’ve got to go.”

  He smiled tentatively. “Maybe we can get together later? I’m in town and I’d love to catch up.”

  Catch up on a whole lifetime of not knowing each other, punctuated by a few weeks together in mortal danger? “I’m not interested.” She started to walk away again.

  He fell in beside her, a mom-and-dad-visiting-their-college-daughter group separated Nora and Cole. After they passed he closed the gap between them. “Benny called too.”

  Her jaw tightened. “Are you and Benny planning to kidnap me again?”

  Cole ran a hand through his hair. “We’ve been through this before. It kept you alive, didn’t it?”

  “I don’t know what Benny is doing in Boulder. He’s got ideas about the Fourth World ending, or maybe wants to ease the transition into the Fifth. Whatever. Why don’t you and Benny have a night on the town and leave me alone? In fact, invite Abigail.” She sounded angry. But she wasn’t angry. Cole scared her in a completely different way than the kachina did.

  “Benny’s already on his way back to the mesas. You know he hates leaving the rez.”

  Nora stomped down the mall, weaving in and out of meandering shoppers and gawkers. A breeze rustled the dying leaves on the trees and it sounded like they whispered, telling her to run.

  His hand closed on her arm. “Can’t we just go someplace and talk?”

  “I have legitimate reasons for not going out with you.” Because she found him attractive and had from the beginning? Because she craved his strength even as she fought against it? Or because she felt too fragile to allow herself to be vulnerable? “The first of which is that you remind me of a terrible time in my life I’d like to forget. Second, I don’t trust you. And third—maybe most important—my mother thinks you’re a hot fudge sundae with a cherry on top.”

  “Maybe you should listen to Abigail. She was right about your first husband.”

  Silence grew between them. “Oh, you must mean the dead one.” She glared at him, daring him to make light of the situation.

  He bent his head again. “I’m sorry. I’m really nervous and I’m not saying anything right. Will you have dinner with me? Or drinks? Or even coffee?”

  She shook her head.

  His face almost glowed red. “You know I was raised on a ranch in Wyoming?”

  She nodded. “So?”

  “So spilling my feelings doesn’t come naturally to me. It’s been bred out of us macho rancher types.”

  “You wear hiking boots and eat tofu. You’re no rancher.”

  “It’s hard to overcome your raising.”

  Arguing with Cole on the Pearl Street Mall while leaves sifted to the ground in the brilliant afternoon sunshine felt almost natural. Time to stop it. “I’ve had a terrible day so far. You aren’t making it any better.”

  “I’m sorry. The truth is, Abigail and Benny aren’t the reason I’m here.”

  His tone was way too serious. “I’ve got to go.” She peeled off from him and skirted around a raised flower bed, rushing down the mall.

  The book store sat a few doors beyond the coffee shop. Several café tables sat in front filled with normal folks enjoying a normal break. Abigail must be inside. Nora stopped several feet from the shop to pull herself together. Beyond the windows Abigail sat across from a dapper young man with thinning hair. She had that absorbed expression she usually wore when she wanted to impress someone. Dear Abigail was doing all she could to help Nora.

  Here I go, girding my loins or whatever it is women warriors do. I’ll make a hella investment banker. Abigail will be so proud.

  Nora stepped toward the shop and noticed a pile of garbage in the niche between the coffee shop and the next-door carpet boutique. Wait. Not garbage.

  Petal curled into the crevice, not more than a pale face amid a jumble of fabric and dreds.

  Nora hurried over and held her hand out to pull Petal up. “What are you doing here?”

  Petal didn’t meet her eyes. “Waiting for Abigail.”

  “Does she know you’re here?”

  Petal focused on the ground. “No. Everyone at the Trust was at the board meeting and I got scared and didn’t want to be alone. I went to see Abigail and she said she was meeting you here.”

  “Nora!” Her shouted name startled her. Daniel Cubrero jogged down the street, dodging people.

  She patted Petal’s arm. “Wait here.” She stepped toward Daniel.

  “I’m glad I caught up to you,” he said, catching his breath from the short run. His white shirt must be tailored to cling to his muscular chest and arms in just the right way without looking too tight. His short dark curls absorbed the sunshine and his brown face glistened slightly from exertion.

  Over Daniel’s shoulder, Nora spotted Cole. He watched the scene as he made slow progress behind a family of shoppers.

  It seemed extreme that a board member would make such an effort into wishing a fired staffer well, but maybe Ecuadorans were ultra-polite. Besides, whatever Daniel Cubrero had to say, Nora would listen, just to watch his gorgeous face and hear that liquid accent. It would be a pleasant break in the day.

  Nora pulled out the professional persona, the one who graduated top of her class in business school and was offered enviable positions with New York’s best financial institutions. She didn’t need Loving Earth’s measly Finance Director position.

  Well, maybe she did, but she wouldn’t let Daniel Cubrero know that.

  “It was good meeting you today,” she said.

  His Latin accent sounded like melted chocolate. “The board is impressed with you, Nora Abbott.” His brown eyes warmed her as she fought to be professionally cool.

  “I’m not sure the board li
ked what I had to say. I know several project directors at the Trust won’t be happy.”

  “The board did not have much faith in the previous Finance Director. We suspected the picture wasn’t so rosy as Darla painted. We’d even discussed hiring an auditor.”

  Interesting, but not her problem. “I hope you can find someone to help figure it all out.”

  He gave her a puzzled expression. “You think we should hire an auditor to help you?”

  From a short distance Cole stopped and studied them. Petal watched them from beneath her dreds.

  “You might not need an auditor if you can find a competent accountant to be your Financial Director,” Nora said.

  Daniel shrugged and held his arms out. The flamboyant gesture suited him. “What do you mean? We have a Financial Director. Surely our meeting didn’t scare you off ? We were tough, admittedly, but we are concerned for the Trust and you were giving us information that has been lacking in recent years.”

  “I’m not scared,” Nora said. “I was fired.”

  Daniel laughed. Oh my, if she thought his accent, his dark handsomeness, and his smoldering masculinity were intoxicating, this cheerful abandon nearly did her in. “You are definitely not fired. The board begs you to stay.”

  They wanted her. But did she want them? “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m such a good fit at the Trust.”

  He considered that. “I understand the atmosphere around there might not be, shall we say, warm and fuzzy. But stay, please. We are serious about getting the Trust back on track. Our first priority is the finances.”

  Nora studied the sophisticated, and no doubt wealthy, investment banker sitting with Abigail.

  Petal’s eyes pleaded with her.

  Daniel murmured, “Please join us, Nora Abbott. I am begging you. You will have total autonomy and report directly to the board, to me.”

  Talk about employment benefits. She still hesitated.

  “May I be frank with you?” Daniel said. He seemed earnest and his eyes focused on hers.

  She nodded.

  “I am a wealthy man.”

  No surprise.

  “It is family money. I am ashamed to say I have not always been responsible and wise. But it is time for me to grow up. I chose to serve on the board of the Trust and to raise money for them because I am passionate about this planet. But my father?” When Americans shrug it’s usually a simple movement of the shoulders. Daniel’s shrug seemed to come from his whole body. “My father indulges me because he thinks I am a child. I want to show him I chose a good organization and I can make it successful.”

  Nora peeked into the coffee shop. Abigail hadn’t spotted her, yet. “The Trust’s work on open space is a model for cities all over the country. That’s got to say something for the Trust.”

  Daniel agreed. “But that was before my time. I am eager to see the work move ahead in the Ecuadorian rainforest.”

  Nora inched out of Abigail’s sight line. “Sylvia’s research has potential to be very press-worthy.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “However, when my father discovered I was on the Trust board, he used his influence and money to bring Sylvia here. He did it out of goodness, to prove to the board I could bring in world-class scientists. I didn’t ask him to do this, he just did.”

  Cole watched them from several yards away. Yes, Nora knew what it felt like to have someone else always saving you.

  Abigail spotted Nora. She waved.

  Nora pretended not to see her. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I will work here with you and together we will root out the financial discrepancies and then grow the Trust into an international environmental protector.”

  Petal shivered even though the afternoon felt warm to Nora.

  Abigail rose as if to hurry out to get Nora.

  Nora looked from Petal to Abigail and back again.

  seventeen

  Sylvia sat on a hard plastic chair in a tacky lobby. The drafty space with muted colors and linoleum smelled of commercial room freshener punctuated by the odor of the unwashed as they came through the doors. Body odor, cheap perfume, clothes steeped in grease from fast food restaurants—low class.

  A uniformed woman cop, nothing more than a clerk, stood behind the counter tapping on a keyboard and pretending to ignore Sylvia. A few other uninteresting drones worked away on their dull jobs sitting behind their metal desks. Boulder’s police station wasn’t like the gritty TV shows, where cops dragged in perps, and hookers and pimps wandered around. This was just a crummy office with Sylvia waiting endlessly.

  Sylvia had been here for hours at the mercy of these imbeciles. She had refused to talk to them, of course. She insisted they wait for her attorney and they’d allowed her a phone call. She’d contacted Daniel, who had dispatched a lawyer.

  The Cubreros always had connections and this lawyer was some whip-smart savant from Denver who wasted no time freeing Sylvia from custody, if not from suspicion. Without the results from the test fire to match the bullet rifling, they had no hard evidence. In their fear Sylvia was a flight risk, they’d overplayed their hand. The hard-nosed young woman Daniel sent had no trouble springing Sylvia from their clutches. The attorney had double-timed it back to Denver to leave Sylvia waiting for Daniel to pick her up from the station.

  Finally, Daniel sauntered into the station. As usual, he created a ripple of admiration when he appeared. The clerk behind the counter perked up and smiled eagerly. At forty-five, Sylvia had a few years on Daniel but she was every bit his equal. Together they were a couple worth noting.

  Sylvia jumped up and hurried to him, her heels clacking on the cheesy linoleum. She met him halfway through the lobby, fuming. “How nice of you to grace me with your presence.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed it. “At your service.”

  She scurried to the door and waited for him to open it for her. “You should have been here twenty minutes ago.”

  “Carina, I arrived as soon as I could. Did the attorney not get here in good time?”

  Daniel and his father used the same endearments for her. If only they each knew where the other had whispered those names.

  She pushed the glass lobby doors open herself and stomped to the parking lot, only to slow down for Daniel to show her where he parked. She’d been waiting so long that the afternoon had drifted into evening and the sun dropped below the Flatirons. She scanned the lot filled with Subarus, economy cars, rugged SUVs, and the collection of various sedans and minivans. She didn’t see the sports car she’d expect of Daniel. She glared at him, waiting for his direction. “Yes, the attorney made it here from Denver.”

  He strode down a row of cars with easy elegance. “She’s very good, I’m told.”

  “She made it to the Boulder Police Department before you could drag yourself away from whatever consumed you.” Sylvia’s short legs worked double time to keep up with his saunter.

  That smile of unconcern burned her. “Your charms are difficult to resist, carina, but I have other business to attend to. See? You are not so injured. Let me take you home and we will see what can be done to erase your troubles.”

  Did he think to appease her with a roll in the hay? If Daniel knew the riches she was about to provide for him, he’d treat her with more respect.

  At least Eduardo knew her value. She hoped he wouldn’t find out about her being accused of murder. Still, if this hotshot attorney didn’t get her off, she’d have to call Eduardo. He’d take care of it because he needed Sylvia.

  Daniel pulled a key from his pocket and hit a button. The taillights on the car in front of her lit up.

  She laughed. “A Prius? Taking this environmentalist image a little too far, aren’t you?”

  He raised his eyebrows and gave her an amused smile. He pressed another button on his key and the door unlocked. She waited for him
to open it and she slid inside. With the smoothness of a jaguar—the kind of car he should be driving, incidentally—Daniel eased himself into his own seat.

  Sylvia anticipated their tryst in a few minutes between the silky sheets of her exquisite antique bed.

  “So,” he said, as if starting a casual conversation. “Why did you feel it necessary to kill our little Darla?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” I couldn’t have killed Darla. A shot in the dark couldn’t be that lucky. Or that unlucky.

  She folded her arms and gazed at the city park outside her window. As usual, grungy college students and leftovers from the hippie days of Boulder’s glory sprawled on the grass. The cops should be out rounding them up and carting them off the streets instead of chasing Sylvia down.

  She tried to calm down and think of something pleasant. She would wear the new lace bustier with the black garter belt and the spiked leopard print sling-backs Daniel favored.

  Daniel switched lanes and turned right on Broadway. “A charge of murder is serious. Even if you didn’t kill Darla, you will have to devote much time and expense to defend yourself.”

  A flare of panic flashed inside her before she thought about it. No. Eduardo wouldn’t let her go to prison. “My work is very important. Perhaps the Trust can pay for my legal defense.”

  They drove in silence, Daniel hummed tunelessly while maneuvering through traffic. After several minutes he pulled into her exclusive neighborhood directly underneath the Flatirons and stopped in front of her house. The 5,500-square-foot home with its cathedral ceilings, thick pile carpets, polished wood floors, and what the real estate agent described as “spectacular Flatirons view” always made Sylvia cringe. It seemed so pedestrian and ordinary. But she didn’t have the time to devote to building something more suitable. When she finished her work here, she’d pick the perfect location—maybe several locations—and build something more fitting. For now, she could tolerate this, as long as she obtained the Chihuly.