dangerous.
"Cate, I need to make some phone calls, okay? I'm going to close the door, just come get me if you need me, okay?"
"If you're sure you're okay . . . " Cate moved slowly back into the store.
"I'm sure." Sarah closed the office door, then sank into her chair.
The big man had looked vaguely familiar, now that she thought about it, but she couldn't imagine where she'd seen him before. Maybe he resembled some movie actor she'd seen, or maybe he looked like a criminal she'd seen on television. He was certainly scary enough. He had that absolutely unfriendly, no questions, no smiles attitude--definitely the strong, silent type. Like some stereotypical Mafia goon whose job was hurting people, and he liked it.
She had told Cate she needed to make some phone calls just to get her out of the office, but maybe she should all someone. But who? Who could she tell that would believe her. She dialed Esmé in New Orleans.
"Hello!" came the familiar, warm voice.
"Hey, Esmé, it's Sarah," she said, and at the "Sarah!" that came back, the tears started.
Esmé knew enough to wait until Sarah could talk again; Sarah wouldn't be calling with some emergency that couldn't be handled long distance, she needed a shoulder to cry on, and a long distance shoulder must be all that was available.
"It's okay, sweetie," she crooned, just like she would have done if they'd been in the same room. "Just cry, Esmé's here."
Sarah finally got herself under control. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to do that. You know how it is, when you're just kind of holding yourself together by your fingernails, the smallest kindness can send you over the edge?"
"I know exactly how that is. What's going on, Sarah? What's got you on the edge?"
"Oh, I don't even know where to start!"
"How about at the beginning?"
* * *
Once she got started, it wasn't a very long story. When she had finished, there was silence on the other end of the line.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"It's an old cliché, but I believe that you believe, and that's really all that matters at this point. Why don't you come down and stay with me for a while? I've got plenty of room, and while I'm finishing the book you'd have a lot of time to yourself. And Charles is here to keep away the bad guys." Charles was Esmé's . . . well, Sarah wasn't sure exactly what Charles was. "Bodyguard" was probably too formal a term for what he did. He drove her car when she needed to go somewhere, and he took care of things around the house, and when "bad guys" needed to be taken care of, he took care of them, although Sarah doubted that came up very often. Still, Esmé was very well known in certain circles, and it certainly didn't hurt to have someone watching your back. Sarah had always wondered if there was more to their relationship than employer and employee, but she'd never asked.
"I'd love to, but really, I can't. There's the store . . ."
"Sweetie, the store won't collapse if you're not there. You've got people you trust working there, don't you? Let them handle it for awhile."
"They're just part-time, I really can't go anywhere. Not right now, anyway. Maybe after the first of the year."
"And what will have happened with your angel by then?" Esmé's voice was soft. "I really think you need to get out of town for a little while."
"I'll think about it.”
"Okay, okay, blow me off. I'm used to it." Sarah could hear the smile in Esmé's voice. "But please promise me you'll be careful."
It was beginning to be an ongoing theme. "I will. I promise. Listen, I've got to go. Thanks for listening."
"Call me and let me know what happens. Call me anyway , okay?"
"I will. Bye."
Sarah hung up the phone. She sat at her desk for a few minutes, then took a deep breath and got ready to go back out into the store. But before she did, she pulled a pen and a piece of paper out of the center drawer and wrote "Cadmiel" on it, so she wouldn't forget.
* * *
The shop was busy. There was an
"Cate, I need to make some phone calls, okay? I'm going to close the door, just come get me if you need me, okay?"
"If you're sure you're okay . . . " Cate moved slowly back into the store.
"I'm sure." Sarah closed the office door, then sank into her chair.
The big man had looked vaguely familiar, now that she thought about it, but she couldn't imagine where she'd seen him before. Maybe he resembled some movie actor she'd seen, or maybe he looked like a criminal she'd seen on television. He was certainly scary enough. He had that absolutely unfriendly, no questions, no smiles attitude--definitely the strong, silent type. Like some stereotypical Mafia goon whose job was hurting people, and he liked it.
She had told Cate she needed to make some phone calls just to get her out of the office, but maybe she should all someone. But who? Who could she tell that would believe her. She dialed Esmé in New Orleans.
"Hello!" came the familiar, warm voice.
"Hey, Esmé, it's Sarah," she said, and at the "Sarah!" that came back, the tears started.
Esmé knew enough to wait until Sarah could talk again; Sarah wouldn't be calling with some emergency that couldn't be handled long distance, she needed a shoulder to cry on, and a long distance shoulder must be all that was available.
"It's okay, sweetie," she crooned, just like she would have done if they'd been in the same room. "Just cry, Esmé's here."
Sarah finally got herself under control. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to do that. You know how it is, when you're just kind of holding yourself together by your fingernails, the smallest kindness can send you over the edge?"
"I know exactly how that is. What's going on, Sarah? What's got you on the edge?"
"Oh, I don't even know where to start!"
"How about at the beginning?"
* * *
Once she got started, it wasn't a very long story. When she had finished, there was silence on the other end of the line.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"It's an old cliché, but I believe that you believe, and that's really all that matters at this point. Why don't you come down and stay with me for a while? I've got plenty of room, and while I'm finishing the book you'd have a lot of time to yourself. And Charles is here to keep away the bad guys." Charles was Esmé's . . . well, Sarah wasn't sure exactly what Charles was. "Bodyguard" was probably too formal a term for what he did. He drove her car when she needed to go somewhere, and he took care of things around the house, and when "bad guys" needed to be taken care of, he took care of them, although Sarah doubted that came up very often. Still, Esmé was very well known in certain circles, and it certainly didn't hurt to have someone watching your back. Sarah had always wondered if there was more to their relationship than employer and employee, but she'd never asked.
"I'd love to, but really, I can't. There's the store . . ."
"Sweetie, the store won't collapse if you're not there. You've got people you trust working there, don't you? Let them handle it for awhile."
"They're just part-time, I really can't go anywhere. Not right now, anyway. Maybe after the first of the year."
"And what will have happened with your angel by then?" Esmé's voice was soft. "I really think you need to get out of town for a little while."
"I'll think about it.”
"Okay, okay, blow me off. I'm used to it." Sarah could hear the smile in Esmé's voice. "But please promise me you'll be careful."
It was beginning to be an ongoing theme. "I will. I promise. Listen, I've got to go. Thanks for listening."
"Call me and let me know what happens. Call me anyway , okay?"
"I will. Bye."
Sarah hung up the phone. She sat at her desk for a few minutes, then took a deep breath and got ready to go back out into the store. But before she did, she pulled a pen and a piece of paper out of the center drawer and wrote "Cadmiel" on it, so she wouldn't forget.
* * *
The shop was busy. There was an
Similar Books
