Page 59 of Sing it, Sam

Chapter Twenty-One

“When you’re settled in, I need you to get started on the compiling the information packs,” Kathleen says, pointing to the stacked boxes. “Sally-Anne has a migraine and won’t be in. I was hoping to have an extra set of hands, but what can you do?” She mumbles something under her breath about ‘getting good help’.

Maybe Sally-Anne’s absences are getting to her.I don’t blame her if they are. “Sure thing,” I say in a squeaky voice. “I’m looking forward to see the new printouts.”

She draws her brows together and rubs at her chin as she eyes the boxes. “Well, I’d like them done ASAP so reception looks less like a stockroom. I have appointments today, and I need the place looking sharp.”

God, she says it like the place is a pigsty every other day.

“Sharp it is,” I tell her with a reassuring smile.

Kathleen places her hand on top of her head, and then at the base of her neck. “Goddamn it! Where are my glasses?” She looks up towards the ceiling and frowns. “Gloria,” she curses and rushes from reception, mumbling to herself about ‘not needing this’ and something about the coroner.

I’ve never seen her this stressed. I feel bad for her.

I settle at my desk, scoop my phone from my bag and decide to send Sam a quick text.

Me: Hope to see a bit more of you today :)

Three dots blip below my text bubble before it comes through.

Sam: I’ll be sure to flash you in the hall

I laugh out loud.

Me: Do you even know who this is?

The three dots tick over once more until my phone dings.

Sam: Sure, I do. The sheriff thought I should know. Very big brotherly of him.

My heart melts. They really look out for each other. As I articulate my response, my phone dings partway through.

Sam: I wasn’t kidding about the flashing BTW :p

I laugh out loud and bring the phone to my chest, hugging it as I would Sam. I don’t want to encourage that kind of behaviour around here, but the thought of seeing more of Sam has my head swirling.

“Jane,” Kathleen barks, causing me to drop my phone. It slams down on my keyboard.

“S-sorry,” I blurt out, opening my drawer and shoving my phone into it.

She purses her lips. “If you focus, Jane, you could get this done by morning tea. Do you think you can apply yourself for a couple of hours, or is that too much to ask?”

Wow, she’s super stressed. And I’m in the shit. “I’m sorry, Kathleen. I’ll get right to it.”

Her phone chimes in her pocket. She pulls it free and swipes the screen, staring at it for a moment.

“Can you please push back the meeting with Angus Whitehead by half an hour?” she asks, not looking up from the device.

“Of course.” I open up her calendar in Outlook and scan over her schedule. Ernie from the coroner’s office is at two p.m., followed by Angus at 3.30p.m. The title of the meeting isBeatrice Ferguson.

My heart sinks. I’m guessing this is her long-lost family coming in to get her personal things. I change the appointment with Angus to four p.m. “It’s changed,” I mumble and swivel in my chair to face her. “Kathleen, is everything okay?’

She lets out a shaky breath. “Everything’s fine. There’s just … when a resident passes, there’s a reasonable amount of administration involved.”

I paste on a smile as thoughts of death cloak me. “If I can help with anything, please let me know.”

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