I hope we can.
“Cal…” Donny says.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about…”
I smile weakly. “Yeah, me too.”
“So much is going on,” he continues.
You don’t know the half of it.
I simply nod. “I know.”
“My dad had an episode during the night.”
My jaw drops. Here I am feeling sorry for myself, when Donny’s father is still not fully recovered. I vow to get over myself. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. His blood pressure dropped, and they thought he might have an infection, but it looks good now.”
“I’m sorry, Donny.”
“It’s all good.” His tone doesn’t indicate belief in his words, though.
“Shouldn’t you be at the hospital with your mom?”
“Yeah, I should be, but she wants me here, making sure the city runs smoothly.” He shakes his head. “This tiny town, and she’s worried about it. Go figure.”
“Did you sleep at all?” I ask.
“I think maybe an hour? You?”
“Maybe an hour. Maybe not.” In fact, not.
“Look,” he says, “we’ll work this out. I love you, Callie.”
“I love you too.”
“There’s just a lot of shit going on in my life right now. I don’t want it to touch us, but how can it not? I’ve brought you in on it. I need your help.”
“I understand.” I want to help. I’m thrilled he trusts me with what he’s doing.
Do I dare trust him with what’s coming back to haunt me?
I trust him to take a bullet for me.
But this… Pat Lamone… It goes so far beyond high school drama.
It’s in the past. I’d truly thought it buried. Why has he shown up back in Snow Creek?
“Come on,” Donny says. “Let’s get to the office. Lots to do.”
I rise and follow him to the counter where he orders another coffee for me. Then we head to the office.
The city attorney’s office.
Where justice is served.
Hot or cold.
My own thought makes me shudder.
Chapter Three
Donny
Troy has Callie working on some research, so I leave her to it. That’s what she wants—to actually do real work pertinent to her interests. I can’t pull her off to do Steel bidding. There will be enough of that to come.
Ten o’clock comes and goes. Nothing from Lambert yet.
I fully expect Brendan and his dad to come to me once it’s done. They’ll think I can intervene or something.
This is a state issue. I have no control over it.
Yup, I already have my canned speech ready, despite the self-loathing in the pit of my gut.
I thread my fingers through my hair. Man, I need some shut-eye. Except all I’d do is toss and turn, as I did for the few hours I was even in bed last night.
Fuck.
Buzz.
I nearly jump out of my chair.
It’s done. Want me to
stop by your office?
I text Lambert back.
Yeah. Maybe you should. To
make the whole thing look legit,
as if you’re letting me know.
Got it. Be over in a minute.
The last thing I want is to see John Lambert, but I’m in too deep to back down now. May as well make it all look good. Ten minutes later, my phone buzzes.
“Donny,” the receptionist downstairs says, “there’s a Mr. Lambert from the state energy board here to see you.”
“Send him up.”
A knock on my door a few minutes later.
“Come in.”
The door opens, and John Lambert’s bald head peeks in. “Hey, Don.”
“John, good to see you,” I say for show. “What brings you by?”
“I wanted to give you a heads-up on a situation here in your town,” he says.
“Sure. Come on in. Close the door.”
Once he’s seated across from my desk, I ask, “How’d it go?”
“He’s not happy, but it went fine.”
“Good.”
“He wanted to know why it’s just the bar and not the whole block. I told him there was a specific gas line under his place that was at issue. Not sure if he bought it.”
“He doesn’t have to buy it if you had the paperwork.”
“I did.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“I’ll be thinking about how you can repay me.”
“I know you will, John. For now, enjoy the rest of your stay at the Carlton.”
“Will do.” He salutes and stands. “Anything else?”
“Not at the moment. I’ll keep in touch, though. Make sure you’re available if I need you.”
“Absolutely.”
“And John?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t have to remind you how important it is that no one knows about our agreement.”
“No, you don’t. It’s my ass on the line too. See you, Don.” He leaves, closing the door behind him.
I drop my head into my hands. What have I done?
Less than a minute later, another knock.
“What is it?” I yell, more harshly than I mean to.
“Never mind.”
Shit. Callie’s voice.
“I’m sorry,” I say loudly. “Come in.”
She eases the door open. She’s so beautiful. She’s wearing black leggings and a burgundy tunic today. Comfy clothes, and she looks delectable.
“What do you need?” I ask.
She clears her throat. “You told me to come see you when I was done with any work from Troy and Alyssa.”
“Already? You’re efficient.”
She smiles halfheartedly and closes the door. “I’m not sure there’s any need for the city to be paying me. There’s just not enough work.”