Come home immediately.
Automatically, she called her mom’s number. “Piper—”
Piper’s stomach dropped. “Mom, what’s wrong?”
“You need to come to the house, right now. It’s an emergency.” Her mother’s voice sounded strained.
“What is wrong?” Piper demanded. “Is it Dad? Is he hurt? Is it—”
“Your father is fine. Nobody’s bleeding or injured. Just come. Now.”
Piper stared at her phone as the line went dead. “What the hell? She says it’s some kind of emergency.”
“We’re not too covered up just now. Go. Let us know if we can do anything.” Shelby waved her on.
Piper grabbed her purse and bolted for the door. Her brain switched gears, flipping through her mental Roladex of family members and their health conditions as she drove, wondering if someone had had a heart attack or, worse, died. Was it a relative? Had the cat finally given up the ghost? Was she about to be asking off for a funeral? Had Dad lost his job? What the hell else constituted an emergency big enough that she’d be pulled away from the clinic in the middle of the work day?
A shiny white Lexus sat at the curb in front of her parents’ house. Not a vehicle Piper recognized.
Okay, not a cop car, so probably no accident anywhere.
She let herself in through the kitchen door, immediately noting the scent of coffee and the fact that the good china was out. Who merited that kind of treatment? And what kind of emergency would prompt her mom to pull out the china? Or had the emergency happened after?
“Piper! Is that you?”
“Yes ma’am,” she called. She could hear her mother’s voice speaking to someone else as she hurried down the hall.
“…can clear this right up.”
Clear what up?
Piper stepped into the living room, automatically assessing the situation for medical needs, despite her mother’s assurance on the phone that no one was bleeding or injured. Her father turned from the empty fireplace, his expression strangely flat. Her mom perched on the edge of one of the Queen Anne chairs, a half-full cup of coffee clutched in nervous hands. The sofa was occupied by a beautiful woman with perfectly coiffed white hair. Her deep purple suit was clearly tailored and expensive, made of excellent fabric. Piper recognized the sedate pumps on her crossed ankles as designer. Though the woman’s face had a few lines, it was impossible to tell whether she was sixty or eighty. She had that kind of gorgeous skin that spoke of years of disciplined care and privilege.
“Mom? What’s going on? Where’s the emergency?”
“This is our daughter, Piper,” Her mother offered.
The older woman set down her own cup and folded her manicured hands, piercing blue eyes fixed on Piper. “I’m Suzanne Stewart. I understand you’re marrying my grandson.”
Chapter 5
“Status of ad space for Thursday’s edition. Go.” Myles hurled the Koosh ball at Wes Collier’s head.
Wes snagged it out of the air with the practiced ease of a seasoned short stop, which was the position he played in the local softball league. “We’ve still got a half page open on page two, a couple of eighths available toward the middle and a quarter page ad empty in the sports section.”
Myles’ phone vibrated and his fingers itched to pick it up, but he kept his attention focused on his staff.
“Hit up Adele Daly to see if she wants to run any kind of specials for The Mudcat in honor of March Madness for the sports opening,” Myles ordered. “The weather’s warming up, so the Co-op may have some kind of sale going on with spring plantings. Call Abe Costello to check on that. Cam Crawford at the nursery, too. And Speakeasy might want to announce the weekend’s specials.”
The phone vibrated again. Then again, dancing across the conference table, as what was apparently several texts hit at once.
“Maybe you should get that,” Patty suggested.
Myles turned the phone over and swiped it open to see what was going on. The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he read Piper’s messages.
I don’t care what you’re doing right now, drop it.
I need you.