Page 23 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell (Rock Canyon, Idaho 7)

Gracie didn’t want to admit how blood thirsty she was, but she briefly pictured herself in a quiet room alone with Rita for five minutes. “What does this mean for Pip, I mean, Jocelyn?”

“Well, we’ve located her maternal grandmother and great-grandmother, who both live in Filer. There was no father named on the birth certificate, so I’m just waiting for one of them to call me back. Just gotta be patient at this point.”

Gracie picked up the monitor and stared at the screen. Pip was sleeping on her back, her little mouth open. She had filled out more in the few days Gracie had been taking care of her, but still had a way to go.

“What if her grandmother doesn’t want her?”

“Then she’ll officially go into the system available for adoption.”

“And what’s the average wait for a child in foster care?” Gracie asked.

Viola was silent for several ticks. “Two years, but sometimes it is much shorter.”

“Or longer.”

Gracie heard Viola sigh. “That’s true, but that’s just the way the system works. I promise to call you

when I hear more, but in the meantime, I’ve set Jocelyn up with an appointment with a child psychologist in Twin Falls on Friday at one in the afternoon. If you can’t take her, I can come by—”

“I’ll make sure she’s there.”

“Good. I’ll text you her information.”

Gracie hung up the phone, her heart aching. Little Jocelyn had been through so much, and no one had cared. If she hadn’t come by with that dinner, what would have happened to her?

Guess sometimes there is a reason for everything.

* * *

Eric was in the storeroom of Buck’s, placing bottles on the shelves, when his phone beeped with a notification.

He had a new e-mail from Neal.

He’d talked to his agent on Monday, who’d told him when he had something, Eric would know about it. He clicked on the email.

Eric-

Got time for a chat? I have good news, my friend.

Best,

Neal

Eric tapped off a response and waited. The minutes ticked away slowly until finally, the cell rang.

When he answered, he tried to keep his voice calm, even though his skin was humming with excitement. “Hey, Neal.”

“Eric! I got great news! How do you feel about writing for one of the biggest publishers in New York?”

Eric’s heart stopped beating. “Are you shitting me?”

“No, my friend, I am not. Random House wants you.”

“Seriously? Have you seen the contract?” Eric asked.

“Yes, and if you agree, they want to fly you out for their special New Year’s Eve party. You’ll get to meet the editor you’ll be working with, the marketing team. It will be great.”

Eric was still having a hard time believing this. “Is it a good deal?”

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