Page 76 of Fortune's Control
I approached and leaned on his workbench. “Is that glue?”
“Wood glue. What’s horrible about it?” He noticed my wrinkled forehead.
“It feels like cheating. What are you making?”
Shane’s lips flattened before he said, “Something small. For the cat.”
“For Pirate? What else could the world’s most perfect kitty need?”
“The world’s most perfect kitty scratched my arm.” Shane showed off two thin scrapes on his wrist. “She needs to walk the plank, but if you must know, it’s another new bed.”
“But she already has one downstairs.” Downstairs in the family room. She napped in it every day.
“Exactly. I don’t want a cat in my bed. Her purrs wake me up, and she slept on my face last night.”
“That’s affection.”
“That’s torture. Also, I’m dropping a few things off at Pete’s gallery once Jack gets here. He’s going with.”
My lips pulled into a half-smile at his deliberate change of subject. “I’m meeting with Sam and Sophie about our funding project. They’re waiting for me.” I should tell him about my paranoid search habit. “Do you want to watch a movie tonight?”
“Is that what the kids call it these days?”
“I was being serious. An actual movie.”
“An actual movie. I’ll pick up ice cream at the store for dessert.” He leaned across the worktable to kiss me.
Why bring up something miserable when there was ice cream and Shane’s kisses instead? “Chocolate ice cream. Shane, can I ask you a question?”
“Yes, of course.” Shane came around the worktable to hold me. “I’ll tell you if I know the answer. But hurry and ask, because you have me worried.”
“Do you believe me? The man who tried to run us over killed Sandy Cooper, even though the police insist Wilson Skane was in Atlanta the entire time?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I believe you.”
Relief filled me. “Would you believe me if I said they have the wrong guy?”
“Yes, I would believe you then.”
“Even without evidence?”
“Even without evidence, I believe you.”
Jack opened the door, like he hoped to catchus in the act. “Oh. I thought you two might…” He whistled rather than explain.
“We’ll talk about this tonight,” he promised.
We kissed goodbye, and I left the woodshop.
“He believed you, Delilah Mayberry.” What would my mother say? “You’d better find evidence before something else happens.”
*****
The conversation between Sam and Sophie stopped when I entered the kitchen. “Did I interrupt?”
Sophie spoke first. “Minor chit-chat. Nothing important.”
I poured a glass of tea and took a chair beside her. “Should we get started? I built spreadsheets breaking down the five-year costs based on your proposals.” I rubbed my hands together. This project allowed me to use my job skills once more, and I missed it. “The next section is more scarce. It’s projected revenue based on your input and interviews with two local store owners.”
