It's Never too Late

She’d not only given him her word, she’d taken payment for her professional services. While technically it could be argued that because there was no formally signed fee agreement, she was not beholden to professional ethics in this case, the argument would be weak at best. And wrong.

Wiping tears from her face, Addy sat at her kitchen table, dressed and ready to leave for campus as soon as she reapplied the makeup she’d cried off, and knew what she had to do.

But first, she picked up the prepaid cell phone given to her by Sheriff Richards and dialed. Mark’s phone.

He still might not pick up if he saw the unidentified number on his caller display and suspected that it was her. She wouldn’t blame him. But figured she had a better chance of getting him if he didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello.”

“It’s Addy.”

“I figured.” And he’d still answered. She took that as a good sign.

“I’m getting ready to head out to campus to drop off yesterday’s assignment. Nonnie calls me from the porch anytime she sees me out there.” She was babbling. Stalling. And continued, anyway. “Do you want me to answer her?”

“If you want to.”

“You don’t mind if I’m in your house?”

“Do I have reason to mistrust your intentions with my grandmother?”

Oh, God. His answering hadn’t been a good sign at all. It had just been a Mark thing to do.

“No,” she said softly. “You don’t. My affection for Nonnie has been sincere from the beginning.”

As has my affection for you, she added silently, hoping he’d ask and give her the chance to say the words aloud.

“Feel free to go in, then.”

Tears sprang to her eyes again and she swiped at them impatiently. “I just...I want you to know...I have to turn over the list, Mark.”

“I figured as much.”

“If I could find a way to let it go I would, but—”

“I get it,” he interrupted. And added, “I’d like to know how much time I have. I’ll need to make plans. To prepare my grandmother for travel.”

“Just hang tight, will you? I’m hoping it won’t come to that. And if it does, I’ll make sure that you have all the time you need. At least until the end of the semester.”

“I won’t need long. We’ve got our home in Bierly to go back to.”

She wanted to die. Right then and there. “Nonnie still didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She sold the house in Bierly, Mark.”

Silence was the only reply she received. Until she heard a tone signifying the call had been lost.

* * *

HE WANTED TO HIT something. Hard.

Stamping through the desert where he’d driven to cool off that second Thursday morning in October, Mark tried to find himself in the cacophony of violent thoughts and raging emotions that had taken possession of the man he’d once been.

It was almost comical the way things had stacked up against him. How was a guy supposed to fight things that were so completely out of his control? How was he supposed to fix them?

He’d thought about calling Nonnie, to reassure himself that Addy had been wrong when she’d told him that Nonnie sold the home she’d been born in. But he was afraid of what he might say to his grandmother if he found out the woman—the lawyer—he’d slept with had been right. So he’d pulled into an establishment offering free wireless service, gone online on his tablet and searched out recent closings in Bierly instead.