parties. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to secure that bargain.”
Chapter Three
LUCIE SLEPT UNTIL ten o’clock that Saturday morning. After glancing at the clock on her nightstand, she rolled over into the center of the bed and sprawled out on her stomach. Yesterday, after lugging five boxes of personal stuff from her office to her car and then from her car to her apartment, she had dropped onto her comfy old sofa, slip-covered in a stain-resistant cream fabric, and sat there for nearly an hour. Most of that time had been spent staring out the southwest windows directly across the room as the afternoon sun slowly sank lower and lower. The harder she had tried not to think about what she’d done, naturally, the more her mind had focused on the fact that she had resigned from the Dundee Private Security and Investigation Agency. The rest of the evening she had simply gone through the motions: eaten a salad for supper, taken a long soak in the bathtub, brushed her teeth, watched the late night news, and gone to bed. The only problem was, she hadn’t slept more than two hours straight and not more than four and a half all night. That might be enough sleep for some people, but not for Lucie. She was an eight-hour-a-night kind of gal.
Groaning at the thought of getting out of bed this morning and facing her first full day of unemployment, she lifted her arms, balled her hands into fists and beat furiously against the two stacked feather pillows. When she wore herself out pummeling her grandmother’s old pillows, she picked up one of them, covered her face with it and screamed. She had learned at an early age what great sound buffers feather pillows made. After tossing the pillow aside, she took a deep breath and got out of bed. Standing there on the wooden floor in her bare feet, she squared her shoulders.
There, she felt better. A mini-hissy fit had done the trick. Whenever she tried to control her emotions instead of releasing them, she wound up making herself sick. If Lucie had learned anything about herself, it was that she should never try to repress her emotions. She just wasn’t geared to calm internalizing. No sirree, in order to function, she needed frenzied externalizing.
Five minutes later, as she emerged from the bathroom, face washed and hair brushed, she heard her doorbell ring. Who on earth? It was ten fifteen on a Saturday morning.
She made her way out of the bedroom and through her combination living room/dining room. When she reached the front door, she peered through the view-finder, then grinned broadly and unlocked the door.
Daisy Holbrook held a drink caddy in one hand and a small white sack in the other. “I come bearing gifts. White chocolate lattes and sinfully decadent cream-filled doughnuts, two for each of us.”
“Well, get in here, girl.” Lucie issued the invitation with a sweep of her hand. “Put the goodies on the coffee table and we’ll dig in.”
Lucie smiled at her next thought. Daisy looked fresh as a daisy. But then she always did. Dundee’s Ms. Efficiency had the wholesome good looks of a healthy farm girl, bred for marriage and birthing babies. Young, pretty, slightly plump, Daisy dressed in classic clothes. Sweater sets, pearls, tailored slacks. Today, away from the office, she wore jeans and a cotton sweater. But the jeans weren’t low-cut, faded, or ragged-hemmed; instead they were pale blue stone-washed, neatly pressed, and accented with a small pink belt that matched her sweater. She had her long, chestnut-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and her only makeup consisted of light blush and lip gloss.
Lucie curled up on the sofa. Daisy lifted each of the coffee cups from the carrier and placed them on hand-painted metal coasters atop the coffee table. Then she removed several large paper napkins from the sack and put two sugar-glazed doughnuts on the napkins.
“You do realize that after we consume this sinful food, our hips will expand at least half an inch and we’ll have gained no less than three or four pounds,” Lucie said, as Daisy sat down beside her.
“I’m willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for a friend.” Daisy grinned. “After all, I couldn’t think of anything else that might cheer you up this morning.”
“Just seeing you cheers me up.”
“But seeing me with lattes and doughnuts makes my visit even better, doesn’t it?”
Lucie reached for the latte. “I can certainly use a little caffeine and sugar this morning, something to perk me up as well as wake me up.”
“Rough night?” Daisy lifted her doughnut, napkin and all, from the table.
“I spent most of the night arguing with myself, part of me convinced I’d done the only thing I could possibly have done by resigning and another part of me convinced that quitting one job before I have another is a definite sign of mental instability.”
“You’ll get another job without any trouble.”
Lucie eyed her friend speculatively. “Without a recommendation from Dundee’s—”
“That’s not a problem.”
“Really? Hmm…Tell me, Daisy dear, just what have you done?”
“Nothing. I simply asked Sawyer about including a letter of recommendation in with your severance package and he okayed it.”
“Did he?” Don’t read anything into it. He’s glad to be rid of you. He’s simply doing what he considers the honorable thing. You know how Sawyer is about right and wrong, all black or all white, no shades of gray. “I should have known that since I wasn’t fired, he probably thought giving me a recommendation was the right thing to do.”
“He got drunk yesterday afternoon,” Daisy said between sips of latte. “I had to drive him home.”
“What!”
“He made a big dent in a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue.”
“So, Sawyer really got drunk? I haven’t seen him drunk since—Not in nine years. Not since his brother died.”
“I didn’t know Sawyer had a brother, but then none of us really know him, except maybe you.” When Daisy took a large bite out of her doughnut, the cream center oozed out and stuck to her mouth. Looking right at Lucie, waiting for a response, she licked the gooey filling off her lips.
“I used to know him. Or I thought I did. But I guess everything I thought I knew about him turned out to be wrong.” Except his innate sense of right and wrong, good and bad, innocence and guilt.
“Look, I’m not asking you to betray any confidences. You don’t have to tell me anything. We’ve been friends for years and I’ve never asked, have I?”
“No, you haven’t and I appreciate that. What happened between Sawyer and me…well, it’s better to stay just between the two of us.”
“Sure.” Daisy popped the remainder of the doughnut into her mouth.
“I may ask you about him every once in a while. You won’t mind, will you?”
After she swallowed, Daisy replied, “I’ll give you a weekly report, if that’s what you want.”
Lucie forced a smile, knowing if she didn’t, she would wind up crying. Damn Sawyer McNamara! “No, I don’t want to hear about him that often.”
“Oh, Lucie, honey…”
“It’s
