with the idea of a silver metallic border.
In hindsight, it really hadn’t been so bad at her sister’s.
But it was embarrassing to slink back with your tail between your legs. Besides, Laura would probably ground her until she was eighteen for pulling this running-away stunt. And they did fight a lot, just as she and her dad had—and look where that had led. He’d died of a heart attack. Laura was too young for that, but maybe she’d get an ulcer or high blood pressure or some other bad thing people her age could get from stress. She didn’t want to have to deal with guilt over that too.
On the other hand, going through with her plan to escape to Chicago was becoming less and less appealing.
She slid onto a stool, rested her elbow on the kitchen counter, and propped her chin in her palm. This decision deserved some careful thought. She didn’t want to rush into anything, make a choice she’d regret. It might be better to spend one more night here—with the door locked, just to be safe. She could weigh all the pros and cons today, sleep on them tonight, then think things through one more time while Mark was at work tomorrow and she had the place to herself.
Yeah. That sounded like a plan.
And since she’d already been gone for three days, what could it hurt to wait twenty-four more hours?
6
L aura wiped her palms on her slacks. Picked up the portable phone from the kitchen counter. Hesitated. Set it back in its holder.
All for the third time.
This was nuts.
If Dev had any news to report, he’d call. His job was to find Darcy, not hold her hand . . . even if she could use a little hand-holding.
And Dev’s hand would do oh-so-nicely.
Okay. Stop. This is pathetic. You’re a strong person and you’re coping just fine on your own. Just suck it in.
Pep talk ringing in her mind, Laura turned away and walked toward the living room—only to have the phone ring before she got three steps.
Pulse lurching, she dashed back and snatched it up, scanning caller ID.
It wasn’t the number she’d hoped to see.
Reining in her disappointment, she put the phone to her ear. If nothing else, chatting with her boss, who also happened to be her best friend in town, would take her mind off her missing sister and the handsome PI who was looking for her. “Hi, Erin.”
“Any sign of her?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m sorry, Laura. I hoped she’d gotten some sense and come home on her own by now. How are you holding up?”
Laura paced from the counter to the window and back again as she answered, trying to walk off some of her restless energy. “I’ve had better days. I think I’m going stir-crazy.”
“Try being cooped up with four kids under the age of twelve and you can eliminate stir from that complaint. Which makes me happy to report we’re planning to reopen most of the branches tomorrow. If the meteorologists are right, the snow will stop around midnight. That will give the plows a chance to get the main roads clear before rush hour. But we’ll open an hour later than usual. If you need to take a few days off for this family emergency, though, that’s not a problem. You’ve hardly used any vacation in the three years you’ve been with us.”
“I appreciate the offer, but there’s not much for me to do. My PI is on top of things, and work will help distract me.”
“You’re sure this guy’s on the up-and-up? He doesn’t drink cheap whiskey and smoke like a fiend and get his kicks using high-powered binoculars to spy on private activities?”
Laura smothered a laugh. “You’ve been reading too many gumshoe novels. This isn’t a sleazeball operation. Dev was an ATF agent in his prior life, and his partners are all former law enforcement too.”
“I guess that sounds legit. So . . . with a name like Dev, could your guy be Irish?”
“I’d say that’s a fair bet. His name’s James Devlin, he has dark auburn hair, and his coffee mug has shamrocks on it.”
“Excellent. I feel
In hindsight, it really hadn’t been so bad at her sister’s.
But it was embarrassing to slink back with your tail between your legs. Besides, Laura would probably ground her until she was eighteen for pulling this running-away stunt. And they did fight a lot, just as she and her dad had—and look where that had led. He’d died of a heart attack. Laura was too young for that, but maybe she’d get an ulcer or high blood pressure or some other bad thing people her age could get from stress. She didn’t want to have to deal with guilt over that too.
On the other hand, going through with her plan to escape to Chicago was becoming less and less appealing.
She slid onto a stool, rested her elbow on the kitchen counter, and propped her chin in her palm. This decision deserved some careful thought. She didn’t want to rush into anything, make a choice she’d regret. It might be better to spend one more night here—with the door locked, just to be safe. She could weigh all the pros and cons today, sleep on them tonight, then think things through one more time while Mark was at work tomorrow and she had the place to herself.
Yeah. That sounded like a plan.
And since she’d already been gone for three days, what could it hurt to wait twenty-four more hours?
6
L aura wiped her palms on her slacks. Picked up the portable phone from the kitchen counter. Hesitated. Set it back in its holder.
All for the third time.
This was nuts.
If Dev had any news to report, he’d call. His job was to find Darcy, not hold her hand . . . even if she could use a little hand-holding.
And Dev’s hand would do oh-so-nicely.
Okay. Stop. This is pathetic. You’re a strong person and you’re coping just fine on your own. Just suck it in.
Pep talk ringing in her mind, Laura turned away and walked toward the living room—only to have the phone ring before she got three steps.
Pulse lurching, she dashed back and snatched it up, scanning caller ID.
It wasn’t the number she’d hoped to see.
Reining in her disappointment, she put the phone to her ear. If nothing else, chatting with her boss, who also happened to be her best friend in town, would take her mind off her missing sister and the handsome PI who was looking for her. “Hi, Erin.”
“Any sign of her?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m sorry, Laura. I hoped she’d gotten some sense and come home on her own by now. How are you holding up?”
Laura paced from the counter to the window and back again as she answered, trying to walk off some of her restless energy. “I’ve had better days. I think I’m going stir-crazy.”
“Try being cooped up with four kids under the age of twelve and you can eliminate stir from that complaint. Which makes me happy to report we’re planning to reopen most of the branches tomorrow. If the meteorologists are right, the snow will stop around midnight. That will give the plows a chance to get the main roads clear before rush hour. But we’ll open an hour later than usual. If you need to take a few days off for this family emergency, though, that’s not a problem. You’ve hardly used any vacation in the three years you’ve been with us.”
“I appreciate the offer, but there’s not much for me to do. My PI is on top of things, and work will help distract me.”
“You’re sure this guy’s on the up-and-up? He doesn’t drink cheap whiskey and smoke like a fiend and get his kicks using high-powered binoculars to spy on private activities?”
Laura smothered a laugh. “You’ve been reading too many gumshoe novels. This isn’t a sleazeball operation. Dev was an ATF agent in his prior life, and his partners are all former law enforcement too.”
“I guess that sounds legit. So . . . with a name like Dev, could your guy be Irish?”
“I’d say that’s a fair bet. His name’s James Devlin, he has dark auburn hair, and his coffee mug has shamrocks on it.”
“Excellent. I feel
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