Her gaze scanned across the manuscript that Deacon wanted her to read. It could wait until later. Right now, she was wound up about the fund-raiser. It could help so many people, not just Deacon.
After making some notes, Gaby looked up the name and number of the printing company she’d used for the library fund-raiser. Lucky for her, she could use a lot of the same contacts for this event. It would cut down on her workload because getting this estate ready for the event was going to take a lot of time.
Gaby recalled seeing a list of estate employees on her first day here when she’d been checking out everything. Now where had she seen it? Her gaze scanned her desktop. Nothing there. Then she turned to the bulletin board behind her desk. No names and numbers.
She logged on to her computer. Maybe they were in here. A lot of pertinent information was stored on the network. She clicked on directory after directory. And then she stumbled across a file titled Personnel Listing. Under Grounds Crew, there were six names listed. Was it possible they were still employees? She knew it was a long shot, but hope swelled within her.
She reached for the phone and then hesitated. Should she do this without checking with Deacon?
She worried her bottom lip. He did give her the lead on this fund-raiser. And it wasn’t like he had much interest in the plans. But if she could show him what she had in mind, she was certain he would agree. She hoped.
Without letting any more doubts creep into her mind, she picked up the phone and dialed the first number on the list.
CHAPTER NINE
IT HAD NOT been a good day.
Not at all.
Deacon stepped out of the dark SUV and sent the door flying shut with a resounding thud. He pulled the baseball cap from his head, scrunched it with his hand and stuffed it in his back pocket. He removed his dark sunglasses and hung them from the collar of his shirt. He was done with disguises for today.
For all of the good it had done him, he might as well have stayed home. His attorney didn’t have any good news for him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The television network he’d been negotiating with had pulled out of the deal. They felt he brought too much bad publicity to the table and it would ruin their chances of having a hit. Apparently they didn’t subscribe to the notion that there is no such thing as bad publicity.
Perhaps Gabrielle was right. Maybe he needed an image makeover. But would that work before the police report was released?
People might think that he’d refused to answer the officer’s questions, but it was quite the opposite. In fact, at his meeting with his attorney, he told him in no uncertain terms to light a match under the powers that be. If he was innocent, he needed to be cleared ASAP. And if he had caused the tragedy, then he’d deal with the consequences.
When he’d moved on to his doctor’s appointment, he grilled his physician about the gaping holes in his memory and the nightmares t
hat plagued him. The doctor said the memories might all come back to him at once, or they might come back in pieces. His dreams were indicative of them coming back to him bit by bit. The doctor did warn him that the dreams might be real memories or they could be figments of his imagination. Or a combination of both.
When Deacon stepped out of the garage, he ran straight in to Gabrielle. He was not in the mood to be social right now. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working?”
Her eyes widened. “I am going up to my rooms. And no, I shouldn’t be working as the workday is over.”
He pulled out his phone. It was much later than he’d been expecting. His appointments had taken up his entire day and he still didn’t know any more than he had when he’d left that morning.
“I—I didn’t realize the time.” Not wanting to chitchat, he said, “I’ll just be going.”
“Wait. I wanted to talk to you.”
“About?”
“The fund-raiser. I’ve come up with some really good ideas. I was hoping for your input.”
Deacon shook his head. He was in no frame of mind to deal with Gabrielle or the fund-raiser. “I don’t think this evening is a good idea.”
“Are you feeling all right?”
“As good as can be expected. I just...” He paused as he grasped for any excuse to make a quick exit. “I’m just hungry.”
“Then I have the perfect solution. It’s Mrs. Kupps’s night off, so I’ll cook us up some dinner.”
“I don’t want you to go to any bother.”
“It’s no bother. We both have to eat, don’t we?”
Her insistence surprised him. Of course, he realized that her interest was purely for business reasons. And she was right, they did have to eat. So what would it hurt to combine food and work?