No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(15)
Sadie had the slow cooker in her car with the vacuum and a few other things she thought might be useful and was walking around to get behind the wheel when Maude called out to her from where she’d been standing yesterday. “Are you heading to the Reed farm?”
“Yeah, I’m off,” she said, turning to wave. She couldn’t help thinking Maude might be the last person she’d ever see alive. She almost implored her to look after Jayden if anything happened, but she knew, if she were to be murdered, Sly’s mother would step in and raise him. It wasn’t as if Marliss expected her beloved son to do much.
“Good luck,” Maude said. “I hope everything goes okay.”
Wading through so much disapproval was zapping Sadie’s strength. She felt like she needed a nap—she probably did, since she hadn’t been able to sleep last night—and yet she had a whole afternoon of menial labor ahead of her. “So do I,” she said and got in the car.
4
Dawson wasn’t entirely sure Sadie would show up. At one-forty, he still hadn’t heard from her. He kept pausing to gaze toward the highway, hoping to see her distinctive green-and-brown car. But there was no sign of her.
Had her ex-husband gotten hold of her? Convinced her not to work for a “murderer”?
The memory of how Officer Harris had tried to bully him at his own door made Dawson long to break his jaw. The dude deserved it. If Dawson had his guess, Harris wouldn’t be much of an opponent. He hid behind his badge and his gun, would have no clue how to handle himself in a fight where those things weren’t allowed and his position as an officer didn’t count for shit. But if Dawson wanted to bring his sister home and rebuild his life, he had to be careful. He couldn’t get in trouble, especially with a Silver Springs cop. The entire force was so sure that he’d gotten away with murder, the blowback would be severe, and he couldn’t afford to become a victim of police harassment right now. Law enforcement had done enough to destroy him.
At a quarter till two, he pulled out his cell phone again. He had his ringer turned on, in case she tried to reach him. He’d already checked his call history. But maybe something weird had happened and her call had inexplicably transferred straight to voice mail...
Nothing. No missed calls. No texts. He was dialing her number, figured he might as well face it if she had bad news, when he heard the sound of an engine and looked up to see her El Camino turn into the drive.
“Hallelujah,” he muttered and hung up before the call could go through.
She was out of the car and grabbing the handles of four bags of groceries by the time he could reach her.
“Hey,” he said.
She glanced over one shoulder. “Hi. Sorry I’m late. The diner was busier than usual, so they made me stay an extra half hour. Shopping took a bit longer than anticipated, too.”
“I’m not upset.” He was just glad she’d come. He tried to take the groceries from her, but she wouldn’t relinquish them.
“I’ve got these. Why don’t you grab the vacuum out of the back? And the slow cooker next to it,” she added as she headed to the house.
“Got it.” Her vacuum didn’t look like much. Neither did the slow cooker, or her car, for that matter. Even she looked a little beleaguered. He’d noticed the dark circles that underscored her hazel eyes when she interviewed with him, but they were more pronounced today, when she wasn’t wearing makeup and had her fine blond hair pulled into a ponytail. Now that she was in jeans and a Lolita’s Country Kitchen T-shirt, and not the blousy top and skirt she’d had on before, he could also tell she was thinner than he’d first thought.
Although he knew there were probably a lot of guys who’d find that waiflike look attractive, he wasn’t one of them. He liked his women with plenty of curves. But he hadn’t hired her for her looks. He only needed her to be reliable.
She was making room on the counter to stack the dirty dishes he’d left in the sink when he set the vacuum in the living room and put the slow cooker on the table.
“Sorry you’re starting at such a deficit,” he said, seeing the mess he’d created the past several days through fresh eyes. He’d thrown out everything that’d been broken—all the beer cans, cigarette butts and other trash teenagers and various vandals had left behind, as well. But he hadn’t been taking the time to clean up after himself. “Daylight hours are precious to me. I haven’t been able to waste them on housework.”
With the sink clear of dishes, she began running hot water. “I understand.”
He propped his hands on his hips as he gazed around. “So...you’re going to start in this part of the house?”
“As far as I’m concerned, the kitchen is always the best place to start. It’s the heart of the home, as they say. I’ll get this clean and organized so that we can make meals and...get around in here. It’ll take some time, though. I might have to tackle the other parts of the house tomorrow.”
“That’s fine.” Hungry, he began rummaging through the groceries to see what there might be to eat. “How much do I owe you for this stuff?”
She wiped her hands before getting the receipt out of her purse.
Once he saw the total, he pulled $200 out of his wallet. She tried to give him change, but he waved her off. From what he’d seen, she didn’t have much, either. “Consider it a very small bonus. Have you had lunch?”