by Kate James
Angie took a sip of coffee. “She’s nice, beautiful...”
“I hear a but coming,” Josh said and felt a pang of defensiveness.
“She’s intelligent and articulate,” Angie continued. “She has a sense of humor and has obviously done well professionally.”
“But?”
Angie sighed. “I like her. I really do,” she added with emphasis when Josh glowered at her. She shook her head. “She seems...uneasy. I can’t think of a better word. She’s reluctant to maintain eye contact, is too sensitive about not getting in the way or being a bother. I’d expect someone with her education, intelligence and accomplishments to be more confident...comfortable in her own skin.”
Josh felt relief that the issue wasn’t a matter of Angie not liking Emma. It mattered to him what his sister thought, and what the rest of his family would think of Emma, too. “She’s taken some hard hits recently,” he said.
“Hmm, that might explain it. Are you comfortable telling me about it?”
Josh thought about it for a moment. He’d never betray Emma’s trust, but he could generalize. He gave Angie a high-level summary of the failure of Emma’s engagement and her job loss.
“Yikes. Those are some tough blows for her to take and in quick succession. Did she have support? Friends? Family?”
“No immediate family.” He saw the immediate sympathy on Angie’s face, as neither of them could imagine life without their close-knit clan. “From what I understand, her ex caused her to lose contact with most of her friends. With the loss of her job and how it happened, she’s purposefully distanced herself from her former coworkers.”
Angie nodded pensively. “Has she said anything about her ex being abusive?”
“What? No!” Josh was outraged at the thought that Emma might have been the victim of abuse. “She would never have tolerated it. She’s too strong and smart for that.”
Angie placed a hand on his arm. “First of all, I don’t mean physical abuse. I’m talking about emotional abuse.”
Josh glared at her. “I think you took too many of those psych classes in university.”
Angie linked her fingers together and leaned forward. “Hear me out. Abuse—whether physical or psychological—is very prevalent. It can manifest through constant criticism of a partner or even more subtle tactics, such as a refusal to be pleased by, or happy with, the partner. Blaming them for a variety of things fits the definition, too. Over a prolonged period, any of those behaviors can affect a victim emotionally. Erode the person’s sense of self and self-confidence.”
Josh opened his mouth to respond. Then closed it again.
“So the net effect,” Angie continued, and squeezed Josh’s arm supportively. “The victim’s self-worth deteriorates to the point where he or she is no longer aware of what is happening to them. It’s insidious in that it starts slowly and eats away at the person until they gradually fade away. Even the strongest, most intelligent people can fall prey to it.”
Josh pushed out of the chair and stalked to the window. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stared outside.
He didn’t like what he was hearing. He wanted to argue in Emma’s defense, but he respected his sister’s intelligence and he couldn’t dismiss what Angie was saying. It would explain some of those contradictions he’d picked up on, not to mention Emma always feeling like she’d done something wrong and needing to apologize for it. And Angie touched on a point Josh hadn’t been able to reconcile in his own mind—knowing what he did about Emma—as to why that would be the case.
He turned back to his sister. “So, Doctor Whitmore, what do you advise I do to corroborate your theory and, if you’re correct, how do I help Emma get over it?”
CHAPTER TEN
ON THE DRIVE HOME, Emma was more preoccupied with what Daniel could want than the positive of Arlene’s offer of work. By the time she arrived at the cottage, she’d decided to quit dwelling on the negative.
After letting the dogs out, she headed to the shed and gathered her gardening tools. The dogs, having tired each other out, stretched out on the cool grass in the shade of a massive oak tree.
Emma began with the garden that skirted the kitchen windows. She cut back perennials, pulled weeds and dug up spent annuals with single-minded determination.
The warmth of the sun felt good on her back, and gave her comfort. She paused to swipe at some loose strands of hair with her forearm, just as the dogs sprang up and raced toward the driveway. Soon after, she heard the sound of a vehicle approaching.
Josh’s Yukon crested the driveway, and the dogs rushed forward to greet him. Emma rose and brushed most of the dirt from the knees of her jeans. Her lips curved into a smile as she watched him let Winston hop out. Perhaps Josh’s company was all she needed to put things into perspective.
Having had their fill of hellos, the dogs headed to the shade to rest.
Josh turned to Emma. Placing his hands on her waist, he searched her face. “Whatever you’re worried about, it’ll be okay.”
His comment startled her. Was she that transparent...or had he come to know her so well?
He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Come walk with me.”
He led her to the nearest entrance to the forest trails, the dogs bounding after them.
Soon they were on a path with the sun filtering through the denuded branches casting a mottled patchwork of light and dark on the ground. The dogs scrambled over or around brush, branches and rocks, eagerly exploring the undergrowth.
“So you said you wanted to talk about something in private.” He glanced at the two large dogs racing ahead of them. “Let me guess. You want to start your own sled team.”
Her own laugh surprised her. “No, that’s definitely not it!”
He waited. When she didn’t say more, he prompted her again. “What is it?”
“I had a phone call from a reporter today. He was one of the main reporters covering that whole mess I thought I had put behind me months ago.”
An odd look came over Josh’s face. “What did he want?”
“I don’t know. I let the call go to voice mail. His message was cryptic. He only said he needed to speak with me.”
They watched the dogs race off in hot pursuit of a chipmunk. It scurried up a tree, leaving them leaping and barking.
“Are you going to return the call?”
Emma sighed. “I don’t know. I’d prefer not to and just let the past be the past, but Daniel—he’s the reporter, Daniel Leighton with the New York Advocate. He’s the one who gave me a heads-up about...” Emma caught herself before she blurted out what Daniel had told her. “What I should’ve known from my client. That being the case, I can’t help but wonder what he wants now.”
Josh remained silent for a time. “I read one of Leighton’s articles,” he said finally. “After the dinner we had in Lake George.”
Emma shot him an uneasy look. “Daniel’s a relatively popular reporter,” she said cautiously.
“I should confess that I did some research after our dinner about what you’d said. I know it sounds intrusive,” he continued quickly. “But I was curious. I care.”
Afraid to ask what the article was about, she started to walk again, and he fell in step. As the path widened toward the clearing, the dogs darted ahead and Josh swung an arm around Emma’s shoulder. “There’s no urgency calling him back, is there?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then don’t rush it. Take the time to decide what you think is best.”
Suddenly, the dogs veered off the path. There was a distressed mew followed by the dogs’ excited barking.
She and Josh rushed toward the sound and came upon a small fawn lying awkwardly on the ground. Emma pressed a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. It was obvious that the fawn was in
jured. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked in a strained voice.
Josh shook his head as he cautiously approached it. “I don’t know. Take the dogs away with you, Emma, if you can.”
All she could think of was the beautiful, injured elk that Josh had shot. She looked at the fawn, so defenseless and filled with terror, and froze. “You’re—you’re not going to...” Emma could feel the blood drain from her face.
Josh slanted a glance at her. “No, I’m not going to hurt her, Emma. The dogs’ presence is doing more harm than anything I plan to do. Please take them back with you.”
Emma was sure he hadn’t intended to sound harsh, but his tone snapped her out of her paralysis. Inside the cottage, she tried to remain patient until she finally saw Josh emerge from the forest, carrying the fawn. Relief washed over her.
Leaving the dogs inside, she rushed out to meet him. She slowed her approach as she neared, not wanting to startle the fawn.
“How badly is she hurt?” she asked in a subdued voice.
“Probably a torn ligament.”
“What are you going to do with her?” Emma knew the fawn wouldn’t survive on her own in the forest.
“I’ll examine and treat her, and then see if I can get her to an animal refuge.” He made a sound of frustration. “I’ve been meaning to add on to the clinic to be able to accommodate wildlife, not just domestics. I’m not sure where to keep her, until I can get her to a reserve.”
“How about here?” Emma asked.
They’d reached her cottage and he glanced around. “Where?”
She pointed to the stand-alone shed a couple of hundred feet away from her cottage. “I can fence off an area inside. She’ll be safe in there. I can set up an outside enclosure for her, too.”
“Emma, you can’t save every wounded creature that comes your way,” he said softly. “Let’s get her checked over first. If I put her in the back of my truck, will you be able to ride with her, to keep her still? I don’t want her injuring herself more on the drive to the clinic.”
Emma nodded. “Of course. Let me lock up and I’ll be right back.”
She grabbed her keys, said goodbye to the dogs and rushed back out. Much as she did for Theo when they’d first found him, she opened the back of his truck and spread out the blanket he kept there, but then she hopped in first and he handed her the fawn.
At the clinic, she helped Josh get her inside.
A half an hour later, Josh emerged from the examination room and, to Emma’s considerable relief, assured her that the fawn would be fine. Another hour passed by the time they’d settled the fawn, who Emma decided to name Daisy, in her newly constructed enclosure inside Emma’s shed.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Emma asked when they entered the cottage.
“I was hoping you’d ask.”
Emma pulled a bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator and told Josh where to find the corkscrew and wineglasses.
He worked the cork loose, poured the wine and handed a glass to her.
Rummaging through the refrigerator, she pulled out ingredients. “How does orange chicken crepes sound?” Before he could respond, she added a bunch of asparagus spears to the ingredients she’d already set on the counter.
He raised a brow. “I wouldn’t say no. How can I help?”
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I have it covered. But thanks.”
Josh perched on one of the stools at the center island and sipped his wine. “I never tire of watching you. Your movements are always efficient, but...graceful. You have, I don’t know...a natural elegance.”
It wasn’t a compliment she’d heard before, but Josh wasn’t an ordinary guy. It touched her, even as she became self-conscious of her movements. She laughed off her insecurity. “Thanks. Now I’ll probably trip and fall, or drop the frying pan on my foot!”
“I doubt it,” he said and took a drink, keeping his eyes on her as she prepared a marinade and placed the diced chicken in it. She sliced mushrooms, scraped a small amount of orange zest and mixed the batter for the crepes. She stir-fried the mix of chicken, mushrooms and marinade, while also preparing the crepes and asparagus spears.
As she was finishing, Josh set the table. When he returned for the bottle of wine and glasses, she already had the crepes and asparagus arranged on two serving platters and she followed him to the dining room.
They ate in the glow of the setting sun with the dogs contentedly snoozing at their feet. Josh topped off their glasses with the remainder of the wine.
Nudging her plate away, Emma took a deep breath. “I’m going to call the reporter back.”
“Okay.” He took her hand into his. “What made you decide?”
“I can’t get my mind off it. It’s better to know what he wants than to speculate and worry, isn’t it?”
He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “When are you going to do it?”
Now that she’d made up her mind, she didn’t want to procrastinate. She checked her watch. It was still early enough. “No time like the present. After we finish up here, if you don’t mind. At least that way I’m unlikely to lose my nerve.”
“Is it okay if I stay?”
She turned her hand palm up and linked her fingers with his. She understood and appreciated the support, and it fortified her more than she would have expected. The fact that she didn’t have to ask made it all that much more meaningful.
They cleaned up together and he made them each a cup of her favored Earl Grey tea before she went to her office to make the call.
The line rang several times without going to voice mail. She was just about to hang up when Daniel answered.
“This is Emma Meadows returning your call.”
“Emma, thanks for getting back to me. Sorry for being out of breath. I just finished a workout.”
“No problem. You said there was something important you had to tell me.”
“By the tone of your voice, I get the impression you’re still not keeping up with the New York papers.”
Emma felt a trickle of dread. “No.” Her voice wavered slightly. “Why?”
“First off, we’ve got Morgan on the kickbacks, but the prosecution wants to charge the senator with criminal negligence.”
“Beyond being glad he’s being held accountable, why should I care?”
“Let me finish. The charges would be criminal negligence causing death.”
“Death?” The trickle intensified. “I don’t understand. The senator might be unscrupulous but you’re suggesting he did physical harm?”
“The charge would be in relation to the recent death of a young soldier. Although I sincerely hope I’m wrong, more incidents might follow.”
Death? Emma tried to put the pieces together in her mind but they just wouldn’t fit. “While the senator’s greed is deplorable, how can he be responsible for a soldier’s death?”
“The defense contract he forced through had certain service-level stipulations, including specific delivery dates. If the dates were not met, significant financial penalties would apply. The first three of those dates had already come and gone, and the rifles had been delivered to Kabul before the scandal broke.
“But the deadlines were too tight for a company the size of American Freedom Munitions, and the rifles that have been distributed to the soldiers had not been properly manufactured and tested. They might have a significant material defect that can result in failure.”
Emma placed a hand over her mouth.
“Private First Class Benjamin Laurence was only twenty-one and eager to serve his country. He was deployed to Afghanistan a couple of months ago for his first tour of duty. He never saw action. The first shot he took in training with his new rifle caused the chamber to explode. The shrapnel killed him instantly.
&nbs
p; “At first the military thought it was misadventure—an unfortunate accident associated with that specific rifle. Upon further investigation, they determined that it was a material defect that could affect more rifles in the shipment. The nature of the flaw, the way I understand it, is that in the case of Private Laurence, the failure happened upon initial discharge, but that won’t be the case with all the defective rifles. It could occur upon initial discharge or after considerable use. Our soldiers could be walking around with time bombs in their hands. That means other men and women are at risk—not from the enemy, but from the greed of their own countrymen.”
“But if that’s the case, surely the rifles have been recalled.”
“They have been, yes. The military has also put a hold on further shipments, but the logistics associated with getting all the rifles back is complex.”
“I can’t believe this could happen. Isn’t there more that they can do?”
“With the death of a soldier, the military is all over this. They’re conducting a full investigation. The key players at AFM and Morgan have already been charged with respect to influencing the award of contract. But if what I suspect is true, that they were aware of the faulty manufacturing, they must be held accountable for that, as well. Especially Morgan. To date, the fatality hasn’t been linked to him yet, other than through an article I wrote.”
Emma wondered if that was the article Josh had seen. But how could Daniel know more than the military, if they were doing a full investigation? She was beginning to wonder if he was just on a vendetta against the senator. “Daniel, I’m having a hard time accepting what you’re suggesting.”
“Look—” His voice had taken on a sharp edge. “I’m convinced it was more than negligence. That Morgan and the AFM executives knew about the defects and the potential consequences. My editor gave me some latitude with my last article because I had been right about Morgan’s role in influencing the award of contract. And because I was careful not to make specific accusations. Even so, it’s caused some backlash, but I had to get the matter out into the open.”