Between the work, the decisions, the worrying search for the key, and her struggle to keep her head above her heart regarding Jordan, she was completely worn out.
But could she just go home, fall on the bed, and sleep for ten hours? Oh, no, she thought with a hiss as she moved on to the dairy aisle. No, indeed. She had to attend a big meeting at Brads place on the river.
She really needed about two solid hours of absolute solitude and quiet, but shed had to trade a portion of that for groceries if she didnt want to starve to death in the coming week.
On top of that, she no longer had any confidence that she would find the answer to the key in the stacks of books shed accumulated. Shed read and read, followed every lead, but she didnt seem to be any closer to a concrete theory, much less a solution.
And if she failed, what then? Not only would she let down her friends, her brother, her lover. Not only would she disappoint Rowena andPitte , but her inadequacy would doom the Daughters of Glass until the next triad was chosen.
How could she live with that? Depressed now, she tossed a quart of milk in her basket. Shed seen the Box of Souls with her own eyes, ached to watch those blue lights battering frantically at their prison walls.
If she couldnt find the key, slide it into the lock as Malory had done with the first, everything theyd done would be for nothing.
And Kane would win.
“Over my dead body,” she declared, then jolted when someone touched her arm.
“Sorry.” The woman laughed. “Sorry. It looked like you were arguing with yourself. I usually dont get to that point until I hit the frozen dessert section.”
“Well, you know. Whole milk, low fat, two percent? Its a jungle in here.”
Then the woman angled her cart so another shopper could get through.
Pretty, brunette, late thirties, Dana observed, trying to place her. “Sorry. I know you, dont I? I just cant place it.”
“You helped me and my son a couple of weeks ago in the library.” She reached for a gallon of milk. “He had a report due the next day for American history class.”
“Oh right, right.” Dana made the effort to tuck her dark thoughts away and answer the smile. “U.S. history report, Mrs.Janesburg , seventh grade.”
“Thats the one. Im Joanne Reardon.” She offered her hand. “And the life you saved was my son, Matts. I stopped back in the library last week to thank you again, but I was told you werent there anymore.”
“Yeah.” That brought some of the dark thoughts back into play. “You could say I retired abruptly from library service.”
“Im sorry to hear that. You were terrific with Matt. And you made a big difference. He got an A. Well, an A-minus, but anything with Matts name on it that includes an A is cause for wild celebration in our house.”
“Thats great.” And particularly good to hear at the end of a long day. “He mustve done a good job. Mrs.Janesburg doesnt pass out the As like doughnuts.”
“He did, which he wouldnt have done if you hadnt pointed him in the right direction. More, if you hadnt found the right key to turn in his head. Im glad I got the chance to tell you.”
“So am I. You picked up my day considerably.”
“Im sorry about whatever happened with the job. Its none of my business, but if you ever need a personal reference, you can sure have mine.”
“Thanks. I mean that. Actually, some friends and I are starting our own business. Im going to be opening a bookstore in a month or so. Probably a little more „or so, but were putting it all together.”
“A bookstore?” Joannes hazel eyes sharpened with interest. “In town?”
“Yeah. A combination thing. A bookstore, an arts and crafts gallery, and a beauty salon. Were fixing up a house over on Oak Leaf.”
“That sounds fabulous. What an idea. All that in one place, and in town. I only live about a mile and a half from there. I can promise to be one of your regular customers.”
“If we keep up the pace, well have it up and running for the holiday season.”
“Terrific. You wouldnt be hiring, would you?”
“Hiring?” Dana eased back, considered. “Are you looking for a job?”
“Im thinking about slipping back into the workforce, but I want something close to home, something fun, and something with fairly flexible hours. What youd call a fantasy job. Especially when you consider I havent worked outside the home in over a decade, have only recently become computer literate—actually, it may be a stretch to say that—and my main job experience was as a legal secretary for a mid-level law firm in Philadelphia—where I did not shine—right out of high school.”