Читать книгу Leaving Enchantment - C.J. Carmichael - Страница 10

TWO WEEKS LATER, Nolan’s spirits weren’t any higher. He’d buried his sister, his brother-in-law, his nephew. He grieved for them in the lonely hours of the night, but his days were crammed with activity. Looking after Sammy, meeting with the lawyers, then Steve’s accountant. He’d opened an estate bank account and had begun to deal with the financial aftermath of this mind-numbing tragedy.

Unfortunately, his sister’s family hadn’t been financially stable. They owed a lot on their expensive home and car. And Steve had just taken out an operating loan for his new business.

Add onto that the medical bill he’d just discovered this morning at their house and the whole situation turned very grim. Once the dust settled, Nolan was afraid there would be no nest egg for Sammy and her future education.

Nolan buckled his niece into the back seat of the Explorer and set off for The Birth Place. He might as well take care of this latest problem right away. According to the invoice he’d found, his sister’s account was already several months in arrears.

So far, most of Steve and Mary’s creditors had been sympathetic. They had an account with the dry cleaners, the dealership where they serviced their vehicle and several other local businesses. Nolan had met with most of them in the past two days. Everyone had been very kind, assuring him they were happy to wait until the assets had cleared probate before receiving their money.

He’d left Sammy at the Bulletin while he’d gone on those appointments, but poor Toni was already strained with the extra work he’d piled on her. Today he’d decided he just couldn’t expect her to add child care to her job list—even though she professed herself more than willing to help him out. She was too valuable an employee to abuse in that way. Besides, she wasn’t exactly young anymore.

Nolan pulled into the parking lot of The Birth Place. Steve and Mary owed this place more money than all the bills he’d dealt with so far combined. Still, he hoped the accountant here would be as sympathetic to his situation as the other creditors had been.

A MERE TWO WEEKS HAD PASSED since Lydia had put her in charge of the Mother and Child Reunion and already Kim had a venue booked, invitations designed and most of the guest list compiled. A few days ago, Lydia had taken her to lunch. Kim had run through her ideas and Lydia had approved every last one of them.

“Who have you got helping you so far?” she’d asked.

Kim had been vague in her reply. Didn’t Lydia think she was capable of handling the project on her own? Well, Kim was certainly going to show her.

A rap at Kim’s office door distracted her. Trish Linden apologized immediately for the interruption. “I know you’re busy, but someone would like to see you.”

People didn’t come to see Kim. Kim dealt with all her business over the phone. She frowned at Trish, but before she could ask for more details, Trish had backed out and a tall sandy-haired man strode into the room.

A little girl trailed behind him. Huge, sad eyes. Red, pursed lips. Her denim overalls were stained with something orange and her hair was a tangled mess. In her arms she carried The Giving Tree, a Shel Silverstein book.

The man smiled, a full-wattage grin that showcased great teeth and bright, intelligent eyes. He could have been a young college professor with his slightly rumpled jacket and curly hair worn a little too long. The look might be appealing to some women, but Kim didn’t trust the charm the man displayed so easily.

“Hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Isn’t it obvious that you are? We don’t have an appointment, do we?”

His eyes widened. She could tell she’d surprised him with her rudeness, but she didn’t care. She’d been hired to work with numbers, not clients.

“I won’t take much of your time. I didn’t realize I needed to phone ahead.”

He tried his smile again, but it faded rapidly when she didn’t return it.

“Look, I’ll phone ahead next time, okay? But since I’m here and I’ve already interrupted your very important work…”

She didn’t allow herself to react to the slightly sarcastic tone in his voice.

“We might as well settle this thing, don’t you think?”

“And what thing would that be?”

A ghost of his charming smile returned, and she knew he was going to ask for some sort of concession. He must have brought his daughter along in a sympathy bid. Those tactics disgusted her.

“I have an outstanding invoice to discuss. I’m Nolan McKinnon, by the way. This is my niece, Sammy.”

His introduction startled her. “The editor of the Arroyo County Bulletin?” She’d been a subscriber for years—ever since she’d read the final report of the private investigator she’d hired with her first paycheck after college. That report had led her from Denver to Enchantment. It was through the classified section of the Bulletin that she’d found this job.

She still read the weekly paper with enjoyment—in particular Mr. McKinnon’s editorials. In fact, she’d become addicted to his editorials.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

He didn’t continue, and suddenly she realized she hadn’t introduced herself. “I’m Kim Sherman.” She stood to shake his hand. Almost grudging, she added, “I think that teen drop-in center was a real good idea.”

He’d spearheaded the organization to start the teen center. And even though she wasn’t intending to stay in Enchantment much longer, she’d made a generous contribution—anonymously, of course. She wished that when she’d been in her teens she’d had access to a place like that. A safe meeting ground where kids could gather to chat, do homework and play sports. The Enchantment Teen Center even had counselors available.

“Thank you.”

The smile he gave her this time wasn’t the charming one. This one was genuine.

“But you’re not here to discuss the teen center.”

“Afraid not.” He pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his jacket pocket. The invoice was stamped with The Birth Place logo.

Kim held out her hand for the paper. On closer examination, she caught her breath. The name in the left corner was Mary Davidson, the mother Lydia had lost two weeks ago.

“I don’t want to keep you,” he continued. “I just hoped we could settle this. You see, I’m Mary’s brother and the executor of her and Steve’s estate. Until their assets pass probate, I’m afraid I don’t have the funds to cover this.”

Kim looked at the little girl again. Was this the Davidson’s daughter, then, not Mr. McKinnon’s? She remembered Lydia mentioning that name, Sammy. Now the child’s quiet demeanor struck Kim in a very intense, personal way. She not only saw, she felt the sorrow in the little girl’s expression.

For a moment Kim was six again. The neighbor from the apartment down the hall was at her door. A police officer stood behind her, his hat in his hands.

Your mother is gone, Kim. You’ll have to come with us.

It had been a long time ago, but Kim hadn’t forgotten the overwhelming pain of a child whose world had crashed around her.

Kim had the oddest, most inappropriate impulse. She wanted to hug the little girl, to crush her to her chest.

“I’ve been trying to put my sister and brother-in-law’s affairs in order. I found your invoice in a stack of unpaid bills. It seems their account is over ninety days delinquent, but that can’t be right.”

She ignored him, looked back at the girl. “That book was one of my favorites when I was little.”

Sammy edged closer to Kim’s desk. “Do you keep stuff in those drawers?”

Opening the one at the top, Kim found a blue marker and a pad of notepaper. “Would you like these, Sammy?”

The little girl nodded. “I like making pictures.”

“Would you like to make one now? How about you go sit in one of the chairs beside that nice lady who walked you in here?” If she and Nolan McKinnon were about to start haggling over the Davidsons’ invoice, she didn’t want Sammy to witness the scene.

She glanced at the uncle. “Trish will keep a close watch on her.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Kim walked the little girl back to reception and stopped to talk with Trish. As she’d expected, the receptionist was only too pleased to help.

Back in her own office, Kim resolved to regain control of the situation. Realizing Nolan McKinnon was the editor of the Bulletin, then identifying the little girl as Mary and Steve Davidson’s daughter had thrown her a little. But her hands were almost steady once more.

“Okay.” Kim sat down and leaned over her desk. “We can discuss your business now.”

Nolan gave her another smile. The sincere kind. “Wow.”

“Pardon me?”

“Sammy must really like you. She doesn’t speak as much in a day to me as she did to you right now. I suppose you’re one of those people who is just naturally good with kids.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not what you’d call a people person.”

She saw him fight back a smile and clenched her pen tightly. Damn him for laughing at her. Did he think she cared what he thought of her?

McKinnon had taken a seat without an invitation. Now he leaned over his knees and regarded her intently. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No. I grew up in Denver.”

“How long have you been in Enchantment?”

“Almost a year.”

“But I haven’t run into you anywhere.”

“I’m not one for socializing.” Her glasses sat perfectly on her nose, but she pushed a finger against the bridge. “Um, I assume you wanted to talk about this invoice?”

The little spark in his eyes disappeared.

She carried on. “It really is more than ninety days delinquent. Our policy is to start charging interest after the third month an invoice is unpaid.”

“I see. But surely in special circumstances you’ll make an exception? You see, Steve quit his full-time job about six months ago and started his own business. He signed with a new insurance company, but since Mary was already pregnant at the time…”

Kim sat impassively. Over the months she’d worked here, she’d heard all sorts of stories. But here was the bottom line—someone had to pay. If the Davidsons didn’t have insurance, then the money would have to come from their estate. And she could not let them get off paying months and months late without an interest penalty.

Eventually Nolan clued in to the fact that she wasn’t being swayed.

“Never mind the details. All I’m asking for is a two-month extension with no interest.”

She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sorry about your sister, Mr. McKinnon, but we gave her the best care possible.”

“Yes. I didn’t mean to imply that you hadn’t. Believe me, I checked into the full circumstances of her death.”

She bet he had. He was a reporter after all. He’d have made certain his sister had received top-notch care, both here, and then, later, at the hospital. She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t found anything amiss. If it had been humanly possible to save Mary Davidson and her baby, Lydia would have done so.

“The thing is—” Nolan adjusted the invoice on her desk a few inches “—the majority of Mary and Steve’s assets are frozen until their wills pass probate. And I still haven’t been able to sort through their health insurance papers…”

Nolan let his sentence trail off. Damn, but this was embarrassing. He’d pay the bill himself, but he’d just sunk everything he’d saved for the past year into his annual principal payment to Charley.

He’d been forced to take a loan to pay for the three funerals, and how much of those costs would eventually be covered by insurance was anyone’s guess.

Now he had a niece to somehow provide for, including the expense of before-and after-school care.

He did not need Mary and Steve’s old bills to worry about, too.

“I don’t want to sound heartless, Mr. McKinnon. But since my arrival, I’ve instigated a new policy. All patients are billed in installments, with the final payment due by the thirty-sixth week of pregnancy. I understand the Davidsons’ assets are in probate. But I cannot suspend our interest charges.

“We have salaries to cover here. Overhead. When our patients are late paying their bills it costs us money. Of course, in cases of financial difficulty we make exceptions. Your sister and her husband, however, did not seem to be in that category.”

He knew what she referred to. Mary’s expensive clothing, the pricey vehicle they’d driven, the area in which they’d lived. No, Mary and Steve had not wanted for much.

“But—”

“One of my policies, Mr. McKinnon—” she removed her glasses and stowed them carefully in a leather container “—is that I make no exceptions.”

Did she know she sounded like a ninety-year-old British schoolmarm? Which, given her delicate beauty, was pretty damn incongruous. Kim Sherman looked like one tiny mouse would send her screaming. In actual fact she could probably stare down the entire Internal Revenue Service.

He would be damned, though, before he saw his niece’s estate further eroded through additional interest charges. “I’ll put the bill on my Visa, then.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, then slipped out the gold card. The accountant frowned.

“We only accept cash or personal check.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” He slapped his wallet against her desk.

“I’m sorry, Mr. McKinnon, but that’s our—”

“I know, I know. That’s your policy.”

Kim Sherman spoke quietly. “The reception area isn’t far away. Your niece might well be listening as you yell at me. Perhaps you could keep your voice down?”

And perhaps you could try being human for five minutes. He bit back the comment. Losing his temper here wasn’t going to solve anything. He peeled a blank check away from his last twenty. He’d cover this later, with a cash advance from his Visa. What did Ms. Sherman care that he’d be the one stuck with an outrageous interest charge as a result?

Kim took a stamp from her desk. Once he’d handed her the check, she pressed a red-inked “Paid” across the face of the invoice and passed it back to him.

He stuffed the invoice into his pocket, feeling exhaustion down to his bones. What he needed was a good nap, but no chance of that now that he had a six-year-old on his hands full-time.

He pushed out of his chair. “Well, I guess I’d better leave you to get back to your policies.” Kim Sherman sure was a piece of work. He wondered if anyone ever got the best of this woman.

As he turned to leave, Sammy opened the door and peeked inside.

“I finished my picture.”

The grim expression on Ms. Sherman’s face vanished. “Can I see?”

Nolan waited impatiently while his niece shyly presented her work to the accountant. When Kim expressed an inordinate amount of pleasure in the picture, Sammy offered it to her.

Kim tacked the stick drawings and doodles onto a small corkboard that held a list of computer codes, as well as other work-related items. Nolan figured she’d crush it into a ball and toss it into the trash once they left.

“Okay, Sam. We’d better get going.”

His niece gave him a reluctant look, then turned back to Kim. “Uncle Nolan is looking for a baby-sitter for me. Do you baby-sit?”

Oh, God! Nolan felt like whacking himself in the head. His day couldn’t get any worse. Surely he could count on the frigid Ms. Sherman to say no?

“Sometimes I do. In fact, I used to spend a lot of time with children when I was younger.”

Somehow Nolan couldn’t picture her with children. She wore no rings. And there weren’t any photos of family in her office. It appeared she had no strings at all.

But then again, two weeks ago neither had he.

“But your uncle probably has another sitter in mind.”

Sammy looked at him expectantly.

“Actually, I don’t,” he grudgingly admitted. “Sam’s grandmother, Irene, is too emotionally distraught. I’ve thought about advertising.”

“I don’t want a stranger,” Sam said, conveniently forgetting that half an hour ago Kim Sherman had been exactly that. “Please let Kim be my baby-sitter.”

So far his niece hadn’t asked him for anything. Not so much as a chocolate-chip cookie.

“Sammy, your uncle doesn’t really know me.”

“No, I don’t. But Sammy seems to like you.” Was he crazy to be considering her offer? She had a responsible job. Harming six-year-olds probably wasn’t one of her policies.

“I have various volunteer and work activities on week nights. What I need is someone to come by the house on Tuesday and Thursday after dinner. Just for a few hours.”

Kim Sherman nodded. “That sounds fine to me. Since today is Thursday, I guess I’ll see you later? I presume you want me to come to the address on your check.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Sammy clapped her hands, then willingly went to Nolan when he held out his hand. Seeing his niece’s happy face, Nolan felt some of the pressure he’d been feeling the past two weeks ease off a little.

Kim Sherman was right. She wasn’t a people person. But she seemed to be a Sammy person. He hoped that would turn out to be enough.