for once he wished he’d paid more attention to gossip. He knew she was a widow because her husband had died a violent death in some kind of gang shoot-out, but that was about all.
“It’s enough,” Thad murmured, dumping his trash and heading for the café door. He didn’t have to know a lot about the kids he worked with to help them. Besides, that woman might never drum up enough courage to actually bring Danny to his class.
Mrs. Southerland was clearly scared to death. Not having known her prior to returning to the States, he had no idea if her unsettled persona was a new development or if she’d always been the nervous type. Either way, living with someone like that couldn’t be easy on the boy. If Danny was about the same age as his nephew, Timmy, then he was seven or eight. Not too young to understand simple logic or too old to be reached via kindness. A good age.
Thad checked his watch. He’d promised to refill the break room fridge with sodas for his crew and figured this was as good a time as any to swing by the store. He’d been trying to loosen up and not run the Pearson kitchen-gadget business with his usual military precision, but he knew he was still a long way from being the hassle-free kind of boss his brother, Rob, had been. Providing free sodas would be another step in the right direction.
Pushing his cart to the nearest of the two checkout stands at the little local market, he was surprised to recognize a familiar voice coming from the customer ahead of him in line.
“But it has to be good,” Lindy Southerland was insisting to the clerk. “I put plenty of money in that account a few days ago.”
When she exchanged that debit card for a credit card with a shake of her head, Thad was struck by how beautiful her reddish-blond hair was when it swung. During lunch he’d noticed it was long and framed her heart-shaped face but he’d been looking so intently into her green eyes, trying to read her thoughts, he hadn’t paid attention to much else. Now, however, he could appreciate the graceful way her hands were moving as she held them out, palms up, in supplication.
Lindy’s next words fit the pose perfectly. “What? That’s impossible. I almost never use that card. It can’t be maxed out.”
“It isn’t,” the clerk said. “It’s been canceled.”
“No way.”
Thad saw Lindy’s confusion and realized she was too frustrated to be thinking clearly. He stepped forward and opened his wallet. “Here. Let me get this for you.”
The emerald eyes widened when they met his. Recognition dawned. “No, thank you. I can take care of it.” She was rummaging in her copious shoulder bag. “I don’t usually carry my checkbook but it may be in here.”
“Well, since we’re holding up the line, how about I bail you out temporarily? You can pay me back after you figure out what’s wrong with your cards.”
Lindy sighed noisily. “I guess that will be okay. We are both friends of Samantha.”
Thad didn’t think this was the right time to inform her that he was less a friend of Samantha Rochard, now Waltham, than he was a former adversary. Oh, they had made their peace regarding the permanent placement of his niece and two nephews but that didn’t make them buddies. Thad could count his close friends on the fingers of one hand without using half the digits. His military doctors had been right when they’d warned him that he might not relate well to most folks, although he was beginning to warm up to Jill and Mitch, probably because of their connection to his brother’s children.
Paying his own bill as well as Lindy’s, Thad carried their groceries while she walked beside him and continued to paw through her purse.
“Which car is yours?” he asked.
“What? Oh, the silver one over there.”
“Nice.”
“It was my husband’s,” she said flatly. “It’s paid for and it gets good gas mileage so I kept it. I suppose I should have traded it in on a smaller model but I just never got around to it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a luxury car. Where do you want this stuff? In the trunk?”
“Yes.” She pressed a button on her key ring and the trunk unlatched with a click. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back as soon as I get everything sorted out.”
“No hurry. You know where to find me on Sunday mornings. I’m looking forward to meeting Danny.” The startled expression on her face made him chuckle wryly. “Not very subtle, am I?”
“No. Not very.” She began to smile and reached out, clearly offering to shake his hand.
Thad shifted his own grocery bags so he could oblige. He hadn’t anticipated feeling her tremble. It was not that cold for a short walk outside.
Rather than release her immediately, he held on long enough to ask, “What is it? What else is wrong?”
“Nothing, I...”
“Don’t you know it’s a sin to lie to a Sunday school teacher?”
“It’s a sin to lie to anybody,” Lindy said. She seemed to be struggling with a decision for a few moments before she sighed and spoke again. “It’s a long story. My house was burglarized recently. I surprised them in the act so I didn’t think anything was stolen.” Her forehead furrowed. “Now, I’m not sure. I mean, the cards are still in my purse. They can’t have been used.”
So that was the rest of the story he’d partially overheard. “You don’t have to have a card in hand to debit to it, you know. Look at sales on the internet. All you have to do is type in the right numbers and it’s a done deal.”
She paled and swayed slightly. “Oh, dear.”
“What did the police say about your break-in?” Thad asked, knowing what she’d probably say.
“I didn’t call them.”
“You should have.” He scowled, hoping his opinion would make her change her mind. “What stopped you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Okay. Look, I have a little experience with computers. If you’ll let me, I’d like to help you.”
“What can you possibly do?”
“Start by checking your accounts to see when they were tampered with, file a claim to have the money returned, then tighten up security to make sure nobody can do any more damage.” He paused, smiling at the irrationality of his suggestions and wondering why he’d made them. “Or, you could just swing by the bank on your way home and do all that in person.”
Lindy began to shake her head. “I can’t. My husband insisted we keep our accounts in Atlanta, even after we moved here, and I never got around to changing to a local bank.”
“Then my offer stands. I learned a lot of useful tricks while I was working for Uncle Sam. I’m pretty sure I can help you.”
“I’d heard you were a soldier. I had no idea that job involved computers.”
“We had guns, too,” Thad said, continuing to smile for her benefit. “I was taught
