Where Rivers Part (27 page)

Please
, you've got to help me here, Lord.

She stood. “I get that you're ambitious and have big plans for your company. What I'll never understand is how you could stand by and let people, even children, get so severely sick.” She turned to Alexa. “You kept your secrets and Tavina's son died.”

For the first time, she noticed tiny wrinkles at her boss's eyes, at her mouth. These were nothing compared to the fault lines in the woman's character.

“In the nights ahead, I'll be able to lay my head on my pillow and sleep—even if it's in a jail cell. But will you?”

She shoved the chair back into the table and walked away.

 42 

J
uliet raced to beat Alexa and Greer back to the office. She swiped her entry card, thankful it now worked, then hurried through the empty lobby and down the hall to the executive offices, surprised to see her assistant at her desk hunched over her typewriter.

“Alva? What are you doing here so late?”

Her assistant looked up. At the side of her desk were several piles of ledgers. “Quarter end is coming up and Fred needed some reports typed up.” The older woman raised her eyebrows. “And you?”

“I—uh, I need to pack up a few things. Do you know where I could find some boxes?”

The CDC had copies of all the manuals on her bookshelf, all the important emails on her hard drive. At home, she had her file of the important audit documents from the suspect time frame. She'd only need to pack the personal items in her desk drawers.

Alva stood and waved her hand. “You go ahead. I'll find you some boxes.”

Juliet thanked her and checked her watch. Likely she didn't have much time.

Minutes later, Alva stood at her door, her hands filled with empty shipping label cartons. “Are these big enough?”

“Yes, those are perfect. Thank you.” Juliet took the boxes from her assistant. “Uh, I'm not likely going to be back.”

With a sympathetic look, Alva rubbed at her chest. “Yes, I figured. I'm sincerely sad to see you go.”

Juliet tried to smile. “I'm going to need you to alert Malcolm, tell him he can call me at home and I'll explain. I left my resignation letter, my security card, and keys to my file cabinets all on the top of my desk. Please give them to Alexa.”

Alva nodded and promised she would. “Before you leave, do you need anything else?” Her assistant lifted her wrist. Keys dangled from the coiled band.

Juliet stared into the woman's eyes, liquid and serious. “What do you mean?”

A tiny grin formed on Alva's face. She rubbed at the back of her head. “Well, it's like this. Sometimes people place things in file cabinets or desk drawers they don't necessarily mean for others to see, not realizing both Muriel and I have master key sets. We can open all doors. All cabinets.” Her brown eyes twinkled. It was a bold thing to say, but she looked extremely pleased with herself. “One day, I see this water analysis report in somebody's desk drawer. I think to myself, now why would a sales guy need a lab report?”

Juliet dropped the boxes to the floor, stunned. Of course—why hadn't she thought of it before? This time, it was her turn to smile.

“So, you're the one.”

 43 

J
uliet pulled her Jeep out of the Larimar Springs parking lot and turned right. Thanks to Alva's help, she'd collected her things and got out of there in under twenty minutes. No time to spare, really.

Out her driver side window, she viewed several medical complexes and a lot filled with storage units and rental vans. Several hundred yards from the on-ramp to I-90, she spotted Alexa's black Aston Martin.

As they slowly passed, both she and Greer gawked in her direction, their discussion no doubt turning trenchant as they realized she'd beaten them to the office and they'd missed the opportunity to stop her.

She pressed the gas pedal, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Larimar Springs as possible.

She'd entered the lobby doors of Larimar Springs for the first time believing she'd landed a job fit for a queen, never realizing the kingdom was filled with fire-breathing dragons. Or that she'd walk out months later nearly burned.

She glanced in her rearview mirror, making sure the dragons hadn't turned around to follow her. For now, it appeared she'd escaped the heat, but she wasn't naïve enough to believe there weren't still battles ahead.

Her phone buzzed on the seat next to her. She merged onto the freeway and clicked on her Bluetooth.

“Juliet? It's Sandy. For goodness' sake, where have you been? I've tried for weeks to get ahold of you.”

“Sorry, life's been—uh, a bit crazy.” Her mother's best friend had sent emails and left voice messages, and she'd meant to get back with her. Somehow, she'd always felt slammed with work and let time slip away. “I'm really sorry, Sandy. I meant to call back.”

“No problem, honey. But hey—this weekend is Easter Sunday. I want you to go with me.”

Normally, Juliet would make excuses and decline the invitation. But women like Sandy and her mother were true royalty. Despite what she'd earlier thought, there was wisdom in emulating their quiet strength.

“Sure, what time?” she asked.

“You'll go?” Sandy's surprise was evident, even over the phone. “Great. I'll pick you up at your place and we'll go together. Okay, then. Well, I'll see you at eight o'clock on Sunday.”

“Sandy?”

“Yes, honey?”

Juliet let a smile form. “Thanks for asking me.”

At home, she shot off a quick email to Cyril. Without going into detail, she told him she needed to talk to him as soon as possible and asked him to call her when he got a chance. No telling if he was in Italy or where, but hopefully he'd be checking emails.

She didn't know what to say exactly. But she didn't want Cyril hearing from Alexa or Greer that she'd left the company without her first explaining why. Given the delicate nature of the situation, she may not be able to disclose everything. He was fairly astute, and he'd be able to size up her departure and make his own conclusions. Eventually she hoped to confide fully—after Cyril learned he'd partnered with snakes.

With their professional relationship eliminated, who knows? They might even pick back up on building a friendship.

By Sunday morning, both the sky and her spirits had dawned brighter than in months. Despite her unpredictable future and the threats made against her, Juliet felt good about her decision to walk away from it all.

Once again, she believed her mom would be proud of her decisions—something she hadn't been able to claim for a while now.

On Easter morning, traffic was fairly light, until they neared the church. Baldera Road was congested with a line of vehicles extending for almost a quarter mile. Armies of church members in orange vests directed churchgoers into overflow parking areas with shuttles waiting to transport people to the main building, where Pastor Roper would be teaching in the sanctuary. Satellite dishes were positioned on the roof, ready to broadcast the services.

“I can't believe the crowd this morning,” Juliet said while freshening her lipstick in a compact mirror.

Sandy inched her car forward. “Yes, lots of Chreasters.”

She frowned. “Chreasters?”

Her mom's friend grinned. “People who only attend church on Christmas and Easter.”

“Oh—uh-huh.” She nodded and closed her compact. “Go ahead and give me a hard time.”

“Well, if the shoe fits,” Sandy teased. “By the way, how long has it been since you've checked out New Beginnings? Your mom would be so pleased to see how many women are benefiting from what she started.”

Juliet slipped the lipstick and compact back in her purse. “It's been awhile,” she admitted, reluctant to disclose she'd never returned after her mom died last fall. It was just too hard.

“Yeah, your dad has a difficult time going too.”

She looked across the seat. “You stay in touch with Dad?”

Sandy followed the directions of a man waving her to the right
and turned the car into an empty parking spot. “Yeah, Bill and I occasionally have him over for dinner. He said he saw you awhile ago—at the Menger.”

Embarrassed, Juliet unfastened her seat belt. She looked at Sandy. “I'm not sure what he told you, but that night wasn't one of my shining moments. In my defense, I had a lot going on. Hard things.”

She got out of the car and joined Sandy as they headed for the shuttle parked several yards ahead. As soon as they were seated inside, Sandy turned to her. “He comes to church sometimes. Your dad.”

She nodded, remembering she'd seen him on Christmas Eve. He came to feel closer to her mother, she supposed. She knew that was how she felt in this place.

“He's had a really hard time—since losing your mother.”

She sighed and turned to her mother's friend, knowing what she was about to say might sound harsh. “Look, I'm glad y'all see each other once in a while, but past that I really don't care.”

Sandy frowned. “Oh, honey. Of course you do. That man owns you.”

She gave a nervous laugh. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

The shuttle driver ground the gears and the shuttle lurched forward. Sandy clutched her purse tightly in her lap. “Are you kidding? Everything you do is based on pushing him away, not letting him back inside your heart.”

“Thank you, Dr. Freud.”

Sandy's eyes softened. “It doesn't take a genius to assess your relationship with your dad. If he turns left, you turn right. He stands, you sit—even if you don't really want to.”

When Juliet said nothing, Sandy gave her a sad smile. “Honey, your mom and I talked often. She loved you so much but was so disheartened you'd never learned to—”

“What? Forgive him?”

“Juliet, you strive so hard to be the opposite of whatever he
is. Problem is, you don't know who he is, which makes being you impossible.”

Sandy's words wouldn't leave Juliet as they walked to the front entrance, as they shook hands with the greeters, and even when they passed through the foyer and found a seat in the crowded sanctuary.

As they waited for the service to begin, Sandy chatted about her husband's business trip and how she planned to pick him up at the airport later in the afternoon, but in the back of Juliet's mind, Sandy's earlier comments expanded, leaving little room to think about much else.

Sandy had given the famous Dr. Bennett Ryan far too much credit. Despite what her mother's best friend claimed, Juliet hadn't customized her life in opposition to her highly esteemed father. For proof, all you had to do was look at her career choice. She'd not been afraid to enter the profession and make her own way to shine.

If anyone was constantly in opposition, it was him.

Her father had no right to judge her, given his history of improprieties and the way he'd failed to be there for her—for her mother. But had that stopped him?

Certainly not.

He felt entirely free to voice his opinions. There were better programs than the school she'd chosen. She never came home often enough, studied hard enough, bought the right car . . . and most recently, of course, her choice of employers was found lacking.

Never mind he'd ended up on the right side of that one.

He'd even claimed she didn't have a heart and soul.

If Sandy wanted to preach to someone, she might reserve her sermons for that man.

The music started and everyone stood. Juliet cleared her mind of her father, determined to focus on the large screen at the front and the lyrics displayed.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Without warning, her eyes burned with unshed tears. The words of the song, one she'd often heard her mother humming while at the kitchen sink, peeled back her strong resolve, revealing a fragility she'd tried desperately to deny, even to herself.

Her mother had had that kind of peace, even when Juliet's father had failed her miserably. She'd died knowing it was well with her soul.

A lump rose in Juliet's throat. As hard as it was to admit, she couldn't say the same. For months, her life had been a series of waves, each one threatening to take her under. Some days, it'd been all she could do to stay afloat.

Right now, she'd give almost anything to feel anchored, to relax and let someone bigger than herself guide the boat.

She swallowed in an attempt to gain control of her emotions. Reaching to her right, she took Sandy's hand and gave it a squeeze. Sandy smiled and squeezed back.

With an intensity that couldn't be argued, Juliet both admired and adored her mother, wanted desperately to be more like her. Instead, she was stubborn and critical, just like him.

As difficult as it was to admit, at some level perhaps her mother's close friend was right.

She needed a new approach.