reach you at during the day?”
“Oh, let me get you one of my cards.” I ducked around the corner and into my bedroom, swiped a card from the holder on the edge of my desk, and hurried back to the foyer. “That’s my cell number. I work from home, so unless I’m meeting with a client I should be here.”
He took the card from my outstretched hand. “Hartley Designs?”
I nodded. “Website design and upkeep. My web address is on there, too, if you’re interested.”
He looked up from the card and smiled. “I’ll be sure to check it out.”
We both fell silent then. I sighed. No sense in delaying the inevitable. “Well, thanks again for stopping by.”
“Take care, Miss Hartley.”
I nodded as he passed through the doorway. Wished there was more I could give him, something more substantial than quirks and broken key chains. But I had nothing. Which was exactly what he’d given me.
Once he’d cleared our porch, I closed the front door and leaned against it for support. The steel’s coolness seeped through my thin shirt and trickled straight down to my heart. Without Officer Steele, how could I ever find the truth?
A shiver rippled through me and brought with it a new worry—without his help, how could I keep the person who’d hurt Grace from doing it again?
Chapter 5
“Would you like another helping of dumplings, sweetheart?”
I glanced over at my mother, whose silver serving spoon hovered mere inches above the creamy goodness of my favorite meal: Chicken Paprika. She’d truly outdone herself this evening, good china and all.
Almost made me want to get depressed more often.
I put a hand on my stomach and grimaced. “Good Lord, Mom. If you feed me much more, I won’t be able to fit out the front door tonight!”
“Maybe that was my plan all along.”
I looked from her smug grin to my father for a little moral support. He just winked at me, and motioned for Mom to add another helping to his plate instead. She shot him a you-know-better look but dished him another spoonful, anyway.
My parents were a rare breed, one of only a few couples in their corner of Angola who hadn’t succumbed to divorce. They’d always gotten along, but it wasn’t until I was older that I developed a true appreciation for their relationship—they made being in love look so darned easy.
“So, Jessica.” My mother set the serving spoon down and shifted her gaze to me. “How are you?”
Here we go...
I knew accepting the Friday dinner invite would likely lead to a motherly interrogation. But after sitting at home sulking all week, I was eager for some company. Even if it meant another painful round of twenty questions. That the game hadn’t started earlier in the meal came as a surprise to me. “I’m doing okay. Been working lots, trying to iron out a web design for a new client of mine.”
“Another new client? That’s great!” My father shoveled another forkful of dumplings into his mouth.
“Thanks. It’s a bakery, downtown off Wells.”
He swallowed, then leaned forward and whispered, “If they pay you in streusel, promise me you’ll share.”
My mother threw him a warning glance. “No, Jessica, I meant, how are you doing ? You know, being alone in that house, while Grace is…”
“Oh.”
That house. She spat the words out as if having to mention it actually caused her pain. I used my fork to bully an untouched floret of cauliflower around on my plate. “Well, it is pretty quiet at home. And with them moving her to Metzler Rehab tomorrow, I’ll have a longer drive to visit her.”
“Metzler?” Dad asked. “A coworker of mine was there a year or two back. Said the people there were great.”
“Cool.” I offered him a weak smile. Though I wanted to think good thoughts about the place, all that kept coming to mind were images of a creepy nursing home environment, complete with the stench of moth balls and glasses of floating dentures as far as the eye could see.
My
“Oh, let me get you one of my cards.” I ducked around the corner and into my bedroom, swiped a card from the holder on the edge of my desk, and hurried back to the foyer. “That’s my cell number. I work from home, so unless I’m meeting with a client I should be here.”
He took the card from my outstretched hand. “Hartley Designs?”
I nodded. “Website design and upkeep. My web address is on there, too, if you’re interested.”
He looked up from the card and smiled. “I’ll be sure to check it out.”
We both fell silent then. I sighed. No sense in delaying the inevitable. “Well, thanks again for stopping by.”
“Take care, Miss Hartley.”
I nodded as he passed through the doorway. Wished there was more I could give him, something more substantial than quirks and broken key chains. But I had nothing. Which was exactly what he’d given me.
Once he’d cleared our porch, I closed the front door and leaned against it for support. The steel’s coolness seeped through my thin shirt and trickled straight down to my heart. Without Officer Steele, how could I ever find the truth?
A shiver rippled through me and brought with it a new worry—without his help, how could I keep the person who’d hurt Grace from doing it again?
Chapter 5
“Would you like another helping of dumplings, sweetheart?”
I glanced over at my mother, whose silver serving spoon hovered mere inches above the creamy goodness of my favorite meal: Chicken Paprika. She’d truly outdone herself this evening, good china and all.
Almost made me want to get depressed more often.
I put a hand on my stomach and grimaced. “Good Lord, Mom. If you feed me much more, I won’t be able to fit out the front door tonight!”
“Maybe that was my plan all along.”
I looked from her smug grin to my father for a little moral support. He just winked at me, and motioned for Mom to add another helping to his plate instead. She shot him a you-know-better look but dished him another spoonful, anyway.
My parents were a rare breed, one of only a few couples in their corner of Angola who hadn’t succumbed to divorce. They’d always gotten along, but it wasn’t until I was older that I developed a true appreciation for their relationship—they made being in love look so darned easy.
“So, Jessica.” My mother set the serving spoon down and shifted her gaze to me. “How are you?”
Here we go...
I knew accepting the Friday dinner invite would likely lead to a motherly interrogation. But after sitting at home sulking all week, I was eager for some company. Even if it meant another painful round of twenty questions. That the game hadn’t started earlier in the meal came as a surprise to me. “I’m doing okay. Been working lots, trying to iron out a web design for a new client of mine.”
“Another new client? That’s great!” My father shoveled another forkful of dumplings into his mouth.
“Thanks. It’s a bakery, downtown off Wells.”
He swallowed, then leaned forward and whispered, “If they pay you in streusel, promise me you’ll share.”
My mother threw him a warning glance. “No, Jessica, I meant, how are you doing ? You know, being alone in that house, while Grace is…”
“Oh.”
That house. She spat the words out as if having to mention it actually caused her pain. I used my fork to bully an untouched floret of cauliflower around on my plate. “Well, it is pretty quiet at home. And with them moving her to Metzler Rehab tomorrow, I’ll have a longer drive to visit her.”
“Metzler?” Dad asked. “A coworker of mine was there a year or two back. Said the people there were great.”
“Cool.” I offered him a weak smile. Though I wanted to think good thoughts about the place, all that kept coming to mind were images of a creepy nursing home environment, complete with the stench of moth balls and glasses of floating dentures as far as the eye could see.
My
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