“Oh, it’s probably nothing to be concerned about anyway,” the elderly lady thought aloud, dismissing the subject with an expansive wave of her hand. Her pale blue eyes took in the concerned look on Erin’s features before asking the question that had been entering her head ever since she had seen Erin through the peephole.
“How did things go at work today?”
Erin was still concentrating on the bad news of the dry rot, wondering how extensive the damage was and just how many hundreds or thousands of dollars it would take to correct the problem. Mrs. Cavenaugh’s question startled her.
“Pardon me?”
“Work. The new boss. How’re you two getting along?” Thinly veiled interest sparked in her kindly blue eyes.
Erin pulled out of her reverie at the mention of Kane. “Everything’s going just fine, I guess. Mr. Webster seems to be quite capable.”
“And Mr. Cameron?” the old lady coaxed inquisitively.
Once again concern clouded Erin’s violet eyes. “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I haven’t been able to reach him.”
Mrs. Cavenaugh played with the strand of pearls at her neck and clucked her tongue. She wagged her head in disbelief. “I read about it in the papers. Embezzlement—it’s a nasty business.”
‘I just wish that I could talk to him,” Erin sighed, and leaned heavily against the banister of the staircase. “It’s all so hard for me to accept.”
“But your Mr. Webster…”
“He’s not my Mr. Webster,” Erin interrupted, her cheeks coloring in indignation. Mrs. Cavenaugh’s blue eyes sparkled more brightly.
“Whatever,” she replied with a dismissive shrug. “What does he think?”
“Oh, he’s convinced that Mitch is guilty,” Erin murmured, her slim fingers running along the clean cool lines of the wooden railing. Talking about Mitch and the embezzlement drained Erin, and she realized that she shouldn’t be discussing bank business with her neighbor. She straightened her shoulders and changed the subject to a less personal issue. “Have you seen Mr. Jefferies?” she asked Mrs. Cavenaugh, and motioned toward the apartment on the other side of the staircase. “He hasn’t changed his mind about vacating his apartment, has he?”
“As a matter of fact, I saw him this morning when I was getting my mail,” the gray-haired woman replied importantly. “No, his daughter insists that George will be better off closer to his family.” With a catty wink the wrinkled woman continued, “He is getting on in years, you know.”
Erin suppressed the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She knew for a fact that Mr. Jefferies was a good ten years younger than Mrs. Cavenaugh, although the sprightly little old lady would be loathe to admit it.
Erin lifted her shoulders in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, well, you win some and you lose some. I guess I’d better put an advertisement in the Times and put the Vacancy sign back up. It seems that I just took it down!”
“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” Mrs. Cavenaugh asked, shaking a knowing and gnarled finger in Erin’s surprised face.
Erin laughed in spite of herself. “Everybody and anybody. Or so it seems.”
“Well, they’re right! And what does all that worry get you? Nothing but stomach ulcers and trouble! Now, you take my advice, and—what is it they say these days—you loosen up!”
Erin grinned and impulsively gave the little old woman a bear hug. “You’re right,” she murmured, and patted the elderly woman’s frail shoulder.
“Of course I am! You should do yourself a favor and listen to me more often,” Mrs. Cavenaugh rejoined with a proud lift of her chin. “And…if you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll put your hooks into that Webster fellow in a big hurry!”
“Mrs. Cavenaugh! Have you been spying on me?” Erin inquired with mock dismay.
The older woman shook her gray head savagely. “Just looking out for your best interests, honey. That’s all!” Then, with a dismissive shrug of her thin shoulders, she added, “Call it spying, if you will. But somebody’s got to take care of you. I saw the way that ex-husband of y
ours treated you—and I want to make sure that you don’t get hurt again…”
Erin tried to protest, but the severity of Mrs. Cavenaugh’s wizened blue eyes held her tongue.
“Now…this Webster fellow, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“And?”
“Unless I miss my guess, which isn’t very often, I’d say he’s fallen head over heels for you!”
“You can’t be serious!”