Until Next Time by Justine Dell Page B

funerals over the next few days. She stopped at the post office to pick up the new office stationery and condolence cards. Next was the hardware store. Piper had to order some new sculpting tools, which oddly were no more than random mechanic tools. Sure, there were expensive official sculpting tools for preparing a body, reconstructing a face, applying makeup, etc., but her father had taught her the importance of not going overboard. It was the very reason she had a nice nest egg tucked away.
    Once at Butcher’s Market, she rolled her cart through the aisles quickly, tossing in pasta and finger foods, things that were easy to fix and eat later. After snagging her essential peanut butter and chocolate bars, she made a beeline for the checkout. Her cart slammed into another as she dashed out of aisle ten.
    “Whoa!” Quinn’s voice rolled through the air. “Look like someone’s in a hurry.”
    Piper shook off the alarm and straightened her jacket. “Oh, squished peas, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
    His grin was fast and devastating. “You squished your peas? That’s a shame.”
    She felt her face grow red. “No. Of course not.”
    Those impossibly light eyes searched Piper’s face. “Should we ask Mr. Butcher to post speed limits signs?” he said, humor lighting his features. “I mean, I’m pretty sure you crushed my eggs on impact.” To prove his point, Quinn hoisted a crate of eggs up and popped open the lid. Sure enough, two eggs on the corner were cracked along the sides and spilling out clear liquid. He shot Piper a wide grin.
    She wanted to hide behind the huge stack of toilet paper to her right. “Holy smoly. Sorry. I didn’t mean to plow you over. I’m sorry.”
    “You already said ‘sorry’ once.” His eyes twinkled. Three times, actually.”
    “I know. I was in a hurry.”
    “Seems that way.” He dislodged his cart from hers and swung around beside her. “Are you always in a hurry, Ms. Downing?”
    Her bottom lip curled. “No.”
    “You sure?”
    “Oh! Piper!” Mr. Butcher ran through the front checkouts, straight toward them. His belly bounced with each thunderous step. “I’m so glad I found you here.”
    Piper scrunched her face before putting on a smile. “Well, you got me. What can I do for you, Mr. Butcher?”
    He was out of breath by the time he came up next to her, and his face was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration. He took a few moments to catch his breath.
    “Mr. Butcher? Are you okay?” she asked, very aware that while he was a little overweight and on the older side, a run from the front office to the checkouts should not have been that laboring.
    “No. No, I’ve been trying to call you for the last five minutes.”
    Piper’s hand flew to her cell phone. Jerking it out, she realized she had no missed calls, but she also had no signal. “Oh, dear.” Her face went hot. “It’s the store. All the steel beams and stuff screw up my service. I’m so sorry.” She cast a glance at Quinn. “See? I was in a hurry for a reason.”
    He nodded, studying her. She focused back on Mr. Butcher. “Now, what did you need?”
    “It’s my brother. His wife called. There was an accident at the lake. I was getting ready to leave the store as I was trying to call when I spotted you, thank God. I don’t know what do. My sister-in-law wants to have Chuck brought back here, and God, they live two hundred miles away. I haven’t called anyone. I don’t—”
    Piper laid a hand on his shaking arm. “Mr. Butcher,” she said softly, “did your sister give you the number to the hospital or other facility that has Chuck?”
    He nodded, tears swimming in his darkened blue eyes. She pulled out a pen and small notebook. “Give me the number, and I’ll take care of everything. I’ll call you when Chuck comes in. In the meantime, you can stop by the funeral home anytime, and we can discuss everything.” She plucked a sentiment card from her wallet and