Hidden Riches by Nora Roberts

about them, about what could happen to them if you got into this kind of trouble. My employer is a hard man.” His eyes flicked over her fadingfacial bruises. “You know about hard men, don’t you?”
    Defensively, she lifted a hand to her cheek. “I—I fell down.”
    â€œSure you did. Tripped on somebody’s fist, right?” When she didn’t answer he continued to press, lightly now. “If my boss doesn’t get back what belongs to him, he’s not just going to take it out on me. He’ll work his way through Premium until he gets down to you.”
    They’d find out, she thought, panicking. They always found out. “I didn’t take his stuff, I didn’t. I just—”
    â€œJust what?” DiCarlo leaped on the word and had to force himself not to wrap a hand around her throat and squeeze out the rest.
    â€œI got three years in with Premium.” Sniffing, she dug in her bag for a Kleenex. “I could make floor supervisor in another year.”
    DiCarlo bit back a stream of abuse and forced himself to stay cool. “Listen, I know what it’s like to climb up that ladder. You help me out here, and I’ll do the same for you. I don’t see any reason that what you tell me has to go beyond you and me. That’s why I didn’t do this in Tarkington’s office.”
    Opal fumbled for a cigarette. Automatically, DiCarlo let the windows down a crack. “You won’t go back to Mr. Tarkington?”
    â€œNot if you play straight with me. Otherwise . . .” To add impact, he slid his fingers under her chin, pinching as he turned her face to his.
    â€œI’m sorry. I’m really sorry it happened. I thought I got it right afterward, but I wasn’t sure. And I was afraid. I had to miss a couple of days last month ’cause my youngest was sick, and last week I was late one day when I fell and . . . and I was so rushed I mixed up the invoices.” She turned away, braced for a blow. “I dropped them. I was dizzy and I dropped them. I thought I had everything put back right, but I wasn’t real sure. But I checked on a bunch of deliveriesyesterday, and they were okay. So I thought I was clear, and nobody’d have to know.”
    â€œYou mixed up the invoices,” he repeated. “Some idiot clerk gets a dizzy spell and screws up the paperwork and puts my butt in a sling.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” She sobbed. Maybe he wasn’t going to beat her, but he was going to make her pay. Opal knew someone always made her pay. “I’m really sorry.”
    â€œYou’re going to be a lot sorrier if you don’t find out where the shipment went.”
    â€œI went through all the paperwork yesterday. There was only one other oversized crate that came through that lot in the morning.” Still weeping, she reached in her bag again. “I wrote down the address, Mr. DiCarlo.” She fished it from her purse and he snatched it.
    â€œSherman Porter, Front Royal, Virginia.”
    â€œPlease, Mr. DiCarlo, I got kids.” She wiped at her eyes. “I know I made a mistake, but I’ve done real good work at Premium. I can’t afford to get fired.”
    He slipped the paper into his pocket. “I’ll check this out, then we’ll see.”
    Her jaw dropped with the weight of hope. “Then you won’t tell Mr. Tarkington?”
    â€œI said we’ll see.” DiCarlo started the engine as he plotted out his next steps. If things didn’t go his way, he’d come back for Opal and it wouldn’t just be her face that he’d leave black and blue.
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    At the main counter in her shop, Dora put the finishing touch of a big red bow on a gift-wrapped purchase. “She’s going to love them, Mr. O’Malley.” Pleased with the transaction, Dora patted the brightly wrapped box containing the cobalt saltcellars. “And