by Diann Hunt
“Did you call the police, Jake?”
“Yeah. They said it was too early for them to get involved.”
Carly wanted to be positive, but the fact that Jake didn’t know any of Katelyn’s friends pretty much left them at a dead end.
“Why don’t we check out the coffeehouse and the teen club down the road. She could be there with some friends.”
He brightened. “That’s a great idea.” He grabbed his keys and led the way out the door. Once in the car, he turned to her. “Listen, Carly, there’s something I should tell you.”
The tone of his voice made her stomach clench. The lines on his face, which she’d barely noticed before, suddenly made him appear ten years older.
“I moved back here for Katelyn.”
Well, that wasn’t what Carly had expected. Her ego took a nose dive. So this whole deal had nothing to do with pursuing a relationship with her. She should have known.
“Like I told you, she was getting into trouble in Chicago. In with the wrong kids, all that. I had to get her out of there before they ruined her life for good.” He started the engine and looked back to her. “The other thing is a few months before we moved, the doctor ran some tests on me and told me I had Type II diabetes. That diagnosis made me realize this body isn’t going to last forever—no matter what I do to it. I should have told you sooner.” He shrugged. “My body is what it is. Anyway, I needed to get Katelyn to a safe place.”
His words worked as a healing balm that spread into the deepest corners of Carly’s soul. His confession made her wonder if he might understand what she’d been through. She wasn’t ready to tell him here and now. In fact, she had thought she would never tell him. But now . . .
Just as he started to back the car out, another car’s headlights pulled into the drive.
Katelyn.
“It’s her,” Jake said excitedly. He zipped the car back into place, shut off the engine, and ran to her. Bruised and disheveled, Katelyn crawled out of her car and crumpled into Jake’s embrace.
Although Carly wanted more than anything to stay and make sure Katelyn was all right, she knew Jake and his daughter needed to be alone. So she merely waved good-bye and got into her car as Katelyn poured out her tears and the story of a date gone bad.
As tragic as the whole thing was, Carly felt hope for the two of them. And she couldn’t help rethinking how she felt about Jake.
Scott didn’t really want to work on a Friday night, but since Carly and Jake were going out, it gave him time to wind up his work on the books. He’d been slipping in deposits and the profits were beefing up, so maybe he would have a decent check for Carly after all.
He couldn’t believe how fast the week had gone. He also couldn’t believe Carly would go out with Jake again. Scott suspected Jake had played up Katelyn’s disappearance on Monday to his advantage. The guy was a jerk.
He typed the final information into the computer. Taxes would be ready to send in the next week or so. That would be a welcome relief. Things had gotten too far out of hand. At least once he finished, he’d keep it all organized and in good shape. That is, if Carly let him continue working there. If she ended up getting married, he doubted that Jake would want him around.
The thought of Carly and Jake getting married made Scott’s stomach roll. He couldn’t understand the weird thoughts and feelings lately where Carly was concerned. He must be feeling guilty for Ivy’s embezzling.
Clicking off the computer, he stretched back in his chair and let out a hearty yawn.
“Well, you’re here mighty late.”
Scott choked back the last of his yawn and flipped forward in his chair. “Carly, hi.”
She flashed a smile, and his gut burned again.
“Hi, yourself.” Dressed in a cute little yellow number, her hair twisted up with a matching ribbon, she walked over to his desk.
Oh no, she didn’t. He was not about to get anywhere near this woman. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but one thing he did know, she was causing it.
He jumped out of his seat just as her sweet scent reached him, making him dizzy. He stumbled against his chair and she reached out to grab him so he didn’t fall. Her hand was warm, and soft.
Very soft.
Too soft.
“Are you all right? Lately, you seem a little, well, off-kilter or something.”
He tried to swallow but he didn’t have a drop of moisture in his throat anywhere.
“Scott? Are you all right?” she asked again.
As discreetly as possible, he shook off her hand. “I’m just in a hurry, that’s all.” He felt guilty for fibbing, but the truth was he hadn’t eaten all evening, and he was in a hurry to get some food in his stomach. Maybe that would stop the churning.
“Scott, wait,” she called after him as he bolted for the door.
He turned around, breathless. “Yeah?”
She walked toward him and he edged backward. “Aren’t you going to ask me how my evening went with Jake? You know how things have been a little tense between him and me, so I thought you’d ask me.” Her lips formed a pout.
“Yeah, uh, okay. How was your date?”
She studied him. “Hey, what’s going on with you?” She looked from him to his desk and back to him. “Are you hiding something?”
The words hit him like a two-by-four. He’d better calm down now or she’d start digging. That was the last thing he needed.
He leaned against the door frame, trying to appear relaxed while his insides raced like a superhero on a mission. “Hiding? No. I’ve just gotten carried away with work and I’m really hungry. Feeling a little shaky, that’s all.” That much was true.
“Oh, I’m sorry. That was pretty thoughtless of me. How about I grab my purse and I’ll take you out?”
“But you just got back from eating out. And what are you doing home so early?” She looked too happy for the date to have gone bad.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” she said.
“Listen, Carly. I really want to get home. I’m just not feeling all that great right now.” True again.
Her excitement turned to concern and he felt a little guilty, but he just didn’t want to hear about her and Jake right now. For whatever reason.
“Oh, okay. I’m sorry, Scott. Do you need me to drive you home or anything?” She touched his arm again. Why did she keep doing that? It was driving him crazy.
“No, I’ll be fine.” He continued to back away till his backside hit the wall. “I’ll call you later and you can tell me all about it, okay?”
Before she could answer he gave a final wave and made a beeline out the door.
Befuddled, Carly watched as Scott raced to get away from her.
“What was that all about?” she said to no one in particular—especially since no one was around. She glanced once more at his desk, stood there a moment, shrugged, then turned off the lights and walked upstairs.
Once there, she called out for Magnolia.
Pinkie came running, the bell on her beaded collar tinkling with every pouncing paw. Carly laughed, bent down, and cuddled her pet. No matter how badly she felt, Pinkie always made her feel better. The dog nuzzled her head this way and that against Carly’s face, causing her bow to tilt. Carly clipped it back in place. “There you go.” She placed Pinkie back on the floor and stood up. “So where’s Magnolia?”
Pinkie cocked her head to one side, tail wagging furiously, and barked.
“If only I could speak terrier.” Carly looked around the living room for a note, but didn’t see anything. In the kitchen, she checked the counter. No note. She decided Magnolia must be out with her friends. She’d been going out more and more lately, which Carly saw as a good sign. Maybe Magnolia was starting to have a life again. She’d been through so much, and Carly was happy to see her socializing these days.
And it had nothing to do with Carly wanting Magnolia to move into her own place. Nothing whatsoever.
Carly headed
toward her bedroom. When she passed Magnolia’s room, she noticed her door was open. That was unusual. Carly started to reach for the doorknob and close it when she spotted some money on the floor. Magnolia was normally meticulous, but she must have left in a hurry. Carly walked into the room, picked up the ten-dollar bill, and placed it on Magnolia’s dresser.
When she turned to leave she noticed the comforter on Magnolia’s bed was flipped up and something was bulging between her mattress and box spring. She walked closer to inspect it. A gasp lodged in her throat.
Could it be?
She bent down to get a better look. Her eyes sometimes tricked her this late in the evening. True, it was only nine o’clock, but still. Leaning farther in, her suspicions were confirmed. Money.
Carly knew she shouldn’t be in Magnolia’s room. She was invading her privacy. But it had started innocently enough. Picking up after her and all. Surely Magnolia would appreciate that if she happened to come home and catch Carly snooping.
Taking a deep breath, Carly listened for any possible intruder—no, wait, that would be her—someone else who might be entering the apartment. Not a sound.
Just to appease her swelling curiosity, Carly bent down and lifted the mattress. She could not believe her eyes. There scattered between the mattresses like a heavy dose of mayonnaise slapped between wheat bread were hundreds of bills in all denominations.
So she is a mattress stuffer! I just knew it!
’Course, she didn’t know how much was there. It looked like a lot to have around the house, but maybe not so much compared to bank funds.
Once she managed to close her mouth, she dropped the mattress back into place and retraced her steps out of the room.
Carly was preparing for bed when she heard Magnolia come in. “Friend or foe?” she called out.
Magnolia chuckled. “Friend.”
“I’ll be out in a minute. I’m washing my face,” Carly shouted between cleansing bubbles.
“Take your time. I’m going to get ready for bed, then make some tea for us.”
“Thanks, Magnolia.” Carly rinsed the cleanser from her face, grabbed a cotton pad, and applied toner. The whole time she wondered why Magnolia would have all that money stuffed between her mattresses. Should Carly ask her about it?
Remembering she needed to check on Pinkie’s water supply, Carly blotted her face dry, then walked over to Pinkie’s bowl. The bowl was nearly empty so Carly filled it up and put it back in its place. “Here’s your water, girl,” she said, listening for the light tinkle of her dog’s collar.
Nothing.
“Here, Pinkie,” she said louder. She could be in the other room, but it was rare when Pinkie was not by her side or at the very least in the same room. Carly looked under the bed. “Pinkie. Here, girl.”
No sound.
“Well, how did you get in here.”
Magnolia’s voice struck fear in Carly’s chest. Pinkie had followed her into Magnolia’s room, no doubt, and Carly must have shut the door before Pinkie got out.
“Well, looks as though I had an intruder while I was gone.” Magnolia stood at Carly’s bedroom doorway, holding a perplexed Pinkie.
Carly felt guilty from head to toe. “I’m sorry, Magnolia. I saw that your door was open, and well, Pinkie was with me. She must have sauntered inside before I closed the door.”
“Oh, no matter, dear. She’s past her chewing stage, so no harm done.” She chuckled. “I’ll put on my jammies and get us that tea.”
Carly watched the older woman prance down the hall. Knowing she had all that money stuffed in her mattress, wouldn’t she be the least little suspicious of Carly? Magnolia was a trusting soul, no doubt about it. Carly knew if the tables had been turned, she would have suspected anyone and everyone who might have happened into her bedroom. Even Pinkie would be suspect in her book.
The phone’s ring pealed through the silence.
“I’ll get it,” Carly called out. “Hello?”
“You sure you don’t have second thoughts about me moving in with you?” Rita’s voice on the line made Carly’s heart jump. She’d forgotten that she hadn’t told C. J. about their arrangement. Now what would she do? She would have to explain to him that she was keeping Rita. No matter how you sliced it, she was caught in the middle.
“Absolutely, you can stay with me. Scott would shoot us if you didn’t after moving some of your furniture in here.”
Rita laughed. “That’s true.”
One thing for sure, there was no getting C. J. and Rita back together if she stayed out of town with her parents. Carly had to do what she could to right this wrong. No matter what it cost her—even money. Her reconstructive surgery was becoming less and less important, anyway. As long as she stayed away from the mirror, she was good.
They talked a few minutes about how things were going for Rita. Carly told Rita that C. J. was lost without her, which seemed to encourage Rita slightly. Though it was obvious Rita wasn’t ready to jump back into his waiting arms.
“Well, I’ll be there around noon tomorrow, if you’re sure it’s all right. I’m leaving the rest of my things in storage, by the way, so I won’t clutter up your apartment.”
Saying nothing of the fact there’d be no room to walk. “You’re a doll. Thank you, Rita.”
Clicking off the phone, Carly wondered how all of this would turn out. She desperately needed to talk to someone. Scott was the only one who sprang to mind, but he’d been acting strange lately. She hated to bother him with this.
“So what did you do tonight ?” Carly asked, teacup in hand. She sat down and tucked her legs beneath her on the sofa.
“Oh, I’m helping with that Habitat home on the north side of town. After working on the house today, we all went out for dinner and then out for coffee. Time just got away from us, I guess.”
Carly choked on her tea. She coughed and she coughed while Magnolia looked on, hand pressed against her chest as she waited for Carly to catch her breath. Only when the choking subsided did Magnolia—and Carly—dare to breathe again.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just went down the wrong way, I guess.” Carly took another drink, studying her stepmother. Never in a million years would she have suspected Magnolia to be a tool-beltin’ hammer swinger. Maybe she had this all wrong. She’d probably helped decorate or something.
“So what do you do there, hang pictures or something?”
“Oh heavens, no. Today we hung drywall. ’Course, I can’t lift it, but I measured and cut it for the fellas.”
Carly was absolutely speechless.
“Those boys sure know how to work a girl.”
Still speechless.
Magnolia took the daintiest sip from her teacup, and Carly was more convinced than ever that she was not a good judge of people.
twenty-one
“Ready?” Scott ’s face was already aglow with anticipation of their run together. The man was an exercise maniac.
“Yep.” Carly pulled the door shut behind her.
“You look good today,” Scott said, keeping his gaze forward.
He’d been acting so strange lately. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he seemed almost uncomfortable around her. Had she done something to cause that? “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”
She took a long glance at his profile. Since dropping a few pounds and firming up with exercise, he looked very healthy. Very. Healthy. Though the more she looked at him, the more she thought it wasn’t so much the weight loss that made him appear different. But what was it? She mentally shook her head. Her mind was a cloud of confusion these days. Had to be the hormones.
“You never did say how your date went last night,” he said.
A red-breasted robin chirped overhead and Carly glanced up, taking in the windswept sky, the bright morning sun. The perfect day.
“If I remember correctly, you never gave me the chance.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right.” He coughed.
“You must be feeling better today.”
“You think so?” He turned to her.
Something in his teasing expression . . . “Um, yeah.”
“I am better.” He grinned. “You were going to tell me about your date?”
“Oh yeah. It went well, but—”
He turned to her, almost expectantly. That’s what she loved about Scott. He always seemed interested in what she had to say. She also loved the way his lips turned up in a smile.
“Well?” he prodded.
“I can’t explain it. Something seemed off somehow.”
“Off? In what way?”
“I don’t know. Just off.”
He stared at her too long and almost tripped on a jagged edge of sidewalk. She reached out to steady him. “Are you all right?”
He straightened and kept jogging. “I’m becoming a real klutz these days.”
She laughed. “You’ve got a lot on your mind, that’s all.” They jogged a little farther. “So how are the taxes coming?”
“Oh, uh, almost finished. You’ll be getting your check soon.”
Funny how the check didn’t seem so important now. Yes, she wanted the surgery, but in light of everything else, it had fallen farther down the list.
“Well, that’s not exactly the response I had expected.”
“Huh?”
“You know, I thought you’d be yelling, jumping up and down or something.” His eyes crinkled with his smile.
“Oh, I’m excited. But, well, there’s only so much money can do.”
“Whoa. Write it down! Carly Westlake gets philosophical before her morning coffee.”
She smirked. “Well, don’t get used to it.” He was right. She was getting deep. What was up with that? She never had a deep thought, and certainly not before morning coffee. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the business. We’ve had positive responses from our chocolate treatments.”
“Yeah, business has picked up a little.”
As they passed a home, Carly noticed a baseball bat and glove and a kid’s bicycle in the front lawn. Evidence of a full life.