Secrets in a Small Town by Kimberly Van Meter Page B

the publication wasn’t in direct competition with the newspaper, legally, he really couldn’t say what she could do with her off time; however, with California businesses subscribing to the at-will employee rule, basically, the publisher could fire her for whatever he wanted if it suited him, as long as it wasn’t obviously against the labor laws.
    And that included moonlighting.
    With only one newspaper in town and most newspapers in the immediate area in a hiring freeze, she couldn’t afford to lose her position at the Tribune. Damn Charlie for knowing it, too.
    She turned. “What are you talking about?” she asked, blinking in what she hoped appeared as confusion.
    “Don’t go all Bambi eyes on me. I know you’ve been doing all this after-hours research on the Red Meadows raid. You’re not the only one who pays attention.”
    She shrugged. “What’s your point? What I do on my own time is my own.”
    “Yeah, but you’re not just doing this stuff on your own time. You’re using company time to do your research.”
    “Prove it. In the meantime, get out of my space. You’re contaminating the energy with your negative, slimy self. It’s a wonder they let you around kids, Charlie,” she said, secretly holding her breath. She couldn’t show weakness around the little worm. He’d run to his uncle for sure.
    Since she didn’t cave or quail, Charlie had nothing to build on. Frustration laced his tone as he exited, saying, “You’re going to slip up and when you do…I’ll be there.”
    As soon as he was gone, she exhaled. Crud. He was hot on her tail. She’d need to be more careful around the tattletale. No more sneaking off to do research.
    She sighed and prepared to make up a plausible excuse for blowing off the biggest ego in Dayton.





CHAPTER ELEVEN
    O WEN WALKED INTO THE HOSPITAL , Quinn at his side, with a large bouquet of flowers in his hand.
    “Do you think she’ll like these flowers?” he asked Quinn in an attempt to lighten the mood. Quinn had been quiet since he’d picked her up from school and that wasn’t like the little chatterbox. She worried her bottom lip and the usual sparkle in her eyes had been replaced by fear and trepidation. He wished she didn’t have to go through something like this. It wasn’t right for a kid to have to deal with the kind of violence Quinn had seen.
    Quinn nodded in answer as they rounded the corner to Gretchen’s room, where she’d been downgraded from intensive care to a standard room earlier that afternoon while he’d been with Piper.
    He peeked inside and swallowed when he saw Gretchen lying against the white pillow, her eyes closed. He looked to Quinn and put a finger to his lips with a “shh,” and they padded silently into the room.
    Owen placed the bouquet vase—which happened to be in the shape of a stork, because that’s all the florist had on such short notice so late in the afternoon—on the small bedside table, and tried to hold back the wince when he caught Gretchen’s battered face. “Oh, man,” he breathed, taking in the full extent of her injuries. She’d been beaten within an inch of her life it seemed. He was afraid to look at her belly. It was hard to tell with the blankets covering her if her stomach had lost the basketball roundness she’d been sporting a few days earlier.
    “Mama,” Quinn whispered, tears clogging her voice. She stared up at Owen, looking for answers he didn’t have. Quinn tried again. “Mama? It’s Quinn…”
    Gretchen’s eyes opened but her gaze remained bleary and unfocused. Quinn approached the bed and gently touched her mama’s hand. It was enough to make Owen choke up. God, he hoped to hell the cops had found Danny and put his ass in jail for what he’d done.
    “Owen,” Gretchen’s voice sounded like she’d eaten gravel for breakfast. She smiled weakly at Quinn. “Thanks for taking care of my girl.”
    “You don’t even have to ask,” he said gruffly. “How are you feeling?”