Sister Dear (15 page)

On her way out the door, Emma grabbed a sheet of scrap paper, dashed off a note to Caroline. She added Allie's address and phone number. Not that it was likely anything could drag her niece away from her coffee date, but in the event of a freak tornado or global crisis, at least Caroline would know where to find her.

Emma tucked the small plastic container on her hip. Walking took less than five minutes, down the sidewalk, around the corner, and into the humid morning, the salty sea air tickling her nose.

The yard looked freshly mowed and edged. Allie had put out potted plants—perky red geraniums—on the steps. Her sister yanked the door open before Emma raised her fist to knock.

“Hey. Thank you,” Allie said, looking genuinely grateful. She held out her hands to take the sewing box. “I thought you might have one of these.”

“No problem,” Emma replied, glancing around the small space. “I actually needed a break from work.”

“It's not what you think,” Allie scoffed and started to smile. “Stop looking so nervous. Nothing's wrong.” She held up a dark
pink scrub top with a ripped seam. “I got a job yesterday.” She waved Emma inside the house.

“What?” Emma's jaw fell open.

“Yep.” Allie tapped her lip. “The vet who bought Dad's office hired me.” She looked up at her sister and shrugged. “She had an ad online, so I went in and talked to her.”

“Natalie Harper?” Emma tried not to squeak.

“Oh, do you know her?” Allie perked up, smiling. “I guess it makes sense, considering Dad would have told you all about it.”

A little shiver ran up Emma's back. Her father had actually shared very little about letting go of the business. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She'd been so busy taking care of Caroline that she didn't think about how strange it was . . . until now.

“Emma?” Allie was staring at her.

“Um, no,” she replied quickly. “He didn't give me any of the details, other than it was sold,” Emma added. The truth was, her father had practically disappeared when he found out Allie was being released. But it was nothing her sister needed to know. Why would it matter? Emma shoved the thoughts out of her head and mustered as much enthusiasm as she could. “That's great, though, about the job.”

“Thanks, I'm pretty happy about it.” Allie's cheeks flushed pink, the way they always did when she was particularly pleased about something. “I hear Caroline's working . . . or volunteering.”

“Yep.” Emma bobbed her head, glancing past Allie at the wall. She should have left right away.
Such a mistake.

“What's she up to this morning?”

“Having coffee. With a new guy,” Emma said, keeping her voice nonchalant. “He's a physical therapy volunteer and works at the nursing home. And a senior at Brunswick.”

Allie stiffened visibly. “So, have you met him?”

Emma wrinkled her nose. She had it under control. “No. But,
um, it's just coffee. And it's a Saturday morning. What do you think is going to happen? I know where she is, and Caroline has her cell phone. I made sure.”

“Fine,” Allie muttered, opening the sewing box and examining the contents.

“She'll be home soon.” Emma glanced at her watch. “And, by the way, keep the sewing stuff. I don't need it right now.”

“Thanks.”

A thudding silence filled the room before Emma could move to the door.

“How is Caroline? I mean, how is she holding up? Emotionally.”

Emma cleared her throat. “She's okay. She's good.” She wasn't about to mention Jake or Maddie. She was going to be positive and chipper.

Allie was suddenly a few shades paler.

“Like you said, she's doing volunteer work. She's at the nursing home, building up her service hours,” Emma added. “I'm so proud of her.”

Allie didn't answer and struggled with a smile. The words had pierced her. She knew her sister felt like she should be the one saying those words. But Emma didn't regret saying it. She had raised Caroline. She could and
should
take the credit.

“I'll tell her you asked about her,” Emma said, moving toward the door. She wanted to leave. She couldn't stand the sad look, the pitiful expression.

“Whatever she says . . . let me know,” Allie said, her voice low and tremulous.

Emma nodded. “I really need to get going.” On the front steps, Emma waved and turned away. She headed in the direction of home, leaving Allie behind.

Her sister was clinging to a thread of hope. She didn't realize
that her life now was like a maze with no exit, leading her only in circles. Pushing Allie and Caroline apart was for her sister's own good. Caroline's too.

Really, Allie shouldn't need it spelled out. All of the signs were there: Caroline wasn't speaking to her, old friends ignored her, and her own parents were keeping a safe distance.

With a few final steps, Emma flung open the door to her own house and closed it tight behind her, breathing hard and starting to perspire. Emotion she'd tamped down for so long—hurt, loss, anger, and heartbreak—rose in her throat, threatening to spill out. Her sister was a reminder. Now, here in Brunswick, she felt like a weight around Emma's neck. Pulling her down. Suffocating everything.

Sooner rather than later, Emma needed Allie gone.

TWENTY

NATALIE

2016

“You hired her?”

Natalie watched Nick cough into his hand, eyes wide, as if he'd been told his home was burning to the ground. He paced back and forth, occasionally turning to glance at her. Nick was usually a go-along, get-along kind of guy, always comfortable with a prerogative to change one's mind.

“Really?” he asked again.

“It's temporary. We'll see how it works out.” Natalie inhaled and blew out a big breath. “She's qualified. She's overqualified, actually.” She locked eyes with her husband. “And when it comes time, when it really matters, I want someone like me to give Russell a second chance.”

“He's doing all right,” Nick defended him.

“He's still living with us,” Natalie said. “What about when we're not around? What if he starts hanging out with the wrong crowd again? Who'll help him get away then?”

“Maybe he's learned his lesson.”

A rap on the door interrupted them.

Nick jerked his head toward the noise. “What the—”

“Calm down and stop arguing, babe. It's the sheriff,” Natalie said, bending sideways a few inches so she could wave for the man to come in. Her pulse ramped into overdrive.
Please don't let it be about Russell.
He couldn't be in trouble already. He'd promised.

“On a Sunday?” Nick muttered.

With the metallic scrape of old hinges and a groan of wooden floorboards under his boots, Lee Gaines removed his hat and lumbered into the office with a German shepherd panting at his side. “Hey, folks.”

“Sheriff,” Nick replied, glancing at the dog and then back at Natalie.

“Hello,” she added warily, her eyes just grazing his face. “Hey, boy,” she cooed to the dog, reaching out the back of her hand for him to sniff.

“This is Chief.” Gaines released the German shepherd from his leash and fell silent, watching the canine. The dog proceeded to cautiously sniff at Natalie's fingertips, followed by Nick's knuckles. Once relaxed, the dog ran his nose along every inch and corner of the room.

When he was finished, Chief came straight back to Natalie, who leaned down and scratched behind his ears through the thick, wiry fur.

Sheriff Gaines stiffened and furrowed his brow. “Normally, Chief doesn't take much to women.” He frowned at the dog.

“So, what can we do for you, Sheriff?” Nick stepped forward to interrupt and offered a chair. “Have a seat?”

“No thanks, I won't stay long.” Gaines hooked both thumbs into his belt and let his eyes rove across the newly refurbished waiting area and reception desk. “Looks like you've been hard at work.”

Natalie watched Nick trying his best to tamp down his
annoyance with the drawn-out niceties. She cleared her throat, shooting her husband her best cease-and-desist look.

“Thank you, Sheriff. We're glad you approve.”

Gaines rubbed one hand under his chin. “It would be a shame if anything got in the way of your new enterprise here. Folks do talk, you know. They see things.”

“I'm sorry,” Natalie said, standing up and throwing back her shoulders. “I'm really not following you. Is something wrong?” Her voice quivered the slightest bit. She was clinging to the edge of the table, her knuckles bone white.

“Simple.” Sheriff Gaines ran his palm through his brush cut and then snapped his fingers for Chief to heel. The dog, ever obedient, trotted swiftly across the room and sat next to his master. “What I'm speaking of, in friendly terms, is allowing people of questionable background and morals to get involved in the day-today operation of your business.”

“It would be easier—” Nick started.

Natalie held up a hand and smiled as sweetly as she could manage. How dare he call her judgment into question? But she didn't need to make enemies. She could play this better.

“Sheriff Gaines.” She lowered her voice and blinked up at him, eyes wide. “Now, whatever are you talking about?”

“Ma'am. All I wanted to do was remind you to be careful.”

Natalie lifted an eyebrow and waited.

Gaines rocked on his heels and gripped his holster, his eyes turning dark with frustration. “There was some history, here in Brunswick. Involving Allie Marshall. I heard that she stopped by.”

Natalie saw Nick eye Gaines's hand. She thought it probably twitched a little too much for his liking.

“That's right, Sheriff,” Natalie said. “She did.” She slid a glance at her husband.

“Mind if I ask why?”

“She needed a job. We have an opening.” Natalie corrected herself, “Well, we
had
an opening.”

Gaines visibly relaxed. “You filled the position with someone else. Good.” He grinned.

“Um, no. We thought we'd give her a chance.” Natalie squinted at her husband. “See how she fit into things. She's qualified. Right, babe?”

“Honey, that's your call.” Nick managed a weak grin.

The sheriff's jaw flinched as he moved his eyes toward the back of the building. Chief sensed the movement and began to sniff the ground, his nose edging the cabinets.

“I see,” Gaines finally said.

“Nick and I believe that it's our civic duty to help others in need,” Natalie explained, lowering her eyes to the German shepherd. The fur around his neck bristled. His ears pricked up. Animals could sense tension and discord, and in this moment, the room was supersaturated.

“She's a felon,” Sheriff Gaines said with force. “I thought you should have all of the facts.”

Chief whined a little, tugged at his collar, looked up at his master, paws touching and lifting from the floor.

Natalie leveled her gaze. “Of course, we don't know everything, but we did buy the business from her parents. They shared some of the . . . story . . . about the trouble she's had.”

“Trouble? Is that what she's calling it?” Gaines stared at Natalie as if he'd been told Allie had broken her leg dancing with the New York City Ballet instead of sitting inside Arrendale State Prison.

“Sheriff.” Natalie spoke slowly. “We found she had the necessary qualifications and experience. What more could a veterinarian ask than an employee guided and educated by a man as fine as Dr. Paul
Marshall?” It was a sound argument, Natalie told herself, unless you believed that Allie Marshall actually killed a man in cold blood and watched him die.

When Gaines simply held her gaze, she continued, feeling the muscles in her neck tighten. “We need to be in business and stay in business. Miss Marshall—Allie—can help us. We need a seamless transition from her father's office to my office,” she added shakily.

“It may be the worst decision you ever made,” Gaines said. “She's fresh out of prison, with a history of violence. Who knows what other tricks she may have picked up on the inside.” He rubbed at his smooth-shaven chin. “Bad things can happen, Dr. Harper. Assault, robbery. I've seen it time and time again.”

Natalie's throat went dry. “Well, Sheriff, you'll be the first to know if and when anything goes wrong.” On wobbly legs, she moved around the counter to the lobby area.

There was a beat of silence, and Gaines shifted in place. “I'll be on my way, then.”

“Thank you for stopping by, Sheriff.” Natalie stuck out her hand to shake and offered him a bright smile. “Now, if you'll excuse us, Nick and I have so much to do before we can open the doors tomorrow.”

Gaines's hand chilled Natalie to the bone, his skin the temperature of a raging river in spring. His fingers closed over Natalie's and squeezed hard.
Argh!
Was the man trying to break every bone? When she looked up, wincing in his grip, the sheriff's eyes glinted dark as the night sky.

“All right, Natalie,” Nick said as he hurried over. “Want to get those files in order?” At the sounds of his voice, Gaines dropped Natalie's hand and turned to her husband.

As Nick escorted Gaines and the dog outside, he made an effort at small talk. “How 'bout those Wolverines this year? Is that
quarterback ready to go?” He held the door wide open, with a worried glance back at his wife.

As Natalie massaged her hand, the warm afternoon breeze flooded the room, ruffling papers and sending Post-its fluttering to the ground. She didn't move or stoop to pick anything up. All Natalie could think about was getting this man out the door.

As if reading her thoughts, Sheriff Gaines paused before sliding on his hat and stepping onto the concrete steps.