Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
She paused without turning to face him.
“I’m suffocating. I just need time and space to sort things out.”
She shook her head. “If you needed time, I’d have given it to you. All you had to do was ask. Instead you did what you always do—you packed up and you ran.”
She wasn’t just referring to his going back to New York, but to his disappearing act this past week. He wasn’t dumb enough not to know what she meant.
“Bye, Mike.” It took everything she had, but Cara walked out the door without looking back.
Chapter Seventeen
Cara’s doorbell rang. And rang. And rang. Then the pounding started. She’d taken the week off from work to pull herself together . . . and yes, maybe wallow a little. She had the sick time owed to her and figured she deserved to indulge herself, so here it was Thursday, and someone was banging on her door. At eight in the morning.
She grabbed her fuzzy robe, pulled it on over the tank top she slept in, and stormed to her front door. She whipped it open, prepared to give whoever was there a piece of her mind.
She found Sam, who had been calling her twice daily to make sure she was okay. “Can’t a girl take time off without you checking on me constantly?” she snapped at him, leaving her door open for him to follow her inside.
“You’re not sick, you’re depressed, and though you have good reason to be, it’s enough. He may be my brother, but he’s an ass. He doesn’t deserve you, and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve for you to be sitting around sulking over him, so let’s go. Shower and get dressed. We’re going shopping.”
Cara wrinkled her nose. Neither one of them loved hitting a mall. “For what?”
“It’s my mother’s birthday this weekend and I need to buy her a present.”
“Fine. For Ella, I’ll pull myself together. Besides, I want to buy Daniella a little motivational gift. She’s signed up for paralegal courses online, and she’s interviewing with some firms who are willing to wait until she can work. Belinda’s got some great contacts,” Cara said of Havensbridge’s founder.
Sam smiled. “That’s great. One less person to worry about,” he said. “Has her ex gotten a court date yet?”
Cara shrugged. “I’m not sure. Daniella said he’s been quiet, but sometimes she gets that eerie feeling she’s being followed. I reminded her not to go out alone, and she said she knows.”
“That’s all you can do. Now go. Get ready.” He prodded her on the back.
Cara headed for the stairs. Pausing, she turned to her partner. “Thanks, Sam.”
“That’s what friends are for. Hey, have I told you that you look like hell?”
She frowned at him. “Gee, thanks.”
“Just calling it like I see it.” He tipped his head toward the stairs.
“I’m going.” But she paused. “Sam, have you . . . ” She trailed off, wanting to ask how his brother was doing.
Had Sam spoken to him? Was he suffering like she was? Or had he gone back to his lifestyle, and women like Lauren, as if the interlude in Serendipity and with Cara had never happened?
“I haven’t spoken to him,” Sam said, reading her mind. Because that was what a good partner did. And really, what else would Cara possibly want to know? “He’s not answering when I call. I’m sorry.”
Cara nodded, the lump in her throat that she’d been fighting all week returning as big as ever.
“He spoke to the mayor before he left town,” Sam said, surprising her. “He laid out everything about the cold case and the money in the evidence room.”
Cara stared, stunned. She’d been so wrapped up in her personal drama, she’d completely forgotten about the case. “What did she say?”
“According to my father, because I didn’t hear it from Mike, the mayor uttered a few choice words that her voters wouldn’t be too happy to hear. Especially when she found out the extent of the people involved.”
“Is Simon in trouble?” Cara asked.
“I’ve gotta hand it to my brother. He managed to make it a burden for the mayor if she went public with the information.”
“How?”
“By reminding her that many of those who were mentioned in that black book, who’d visited the Winkler place, and who had been involved in the cover-up, were also her biggest campaign supporters,” Sam said with a grin.
Cara pulled her robe tighter, unable to hold back a smile of her own. “Brilliant.”
Sam nodded. “Added to that, the Winkler place had been shut down for years, so there was no point in bringing that up again. Everyone who was once involved appeared to be clean now, and the only person still in public office was retiring.” Sam spread his hands wide. “So really, what good would it do to air the dirty laundry except to tarnish her loyal supporters?”