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PROLOGUE
Thunder boomed.
The skies opened and rain poured down. Paul Jones barely noticed. His eyes were
focused on the casket in front of him. The minister was speaking, but Paul
wasn’t listening. He’d been in a daze for the last few days. One minute, he was
sitting in a restaurant waiting for his fiancé to arrive and the next, he was
here. The time that had passed in between was nothing more than a blur. Flashes
of the events that had taken place over the last few days flew threw his mind.
A deep sorrow settled in his soul. His heart felt like it had been ripped
apart.
A hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to
see Mitch Holt and his wife, Catherine, standing beside him. Mitch held an
umbrella over his wife’s head. She clutched his arm, tears streaming down her
face.
“We’re so sorry, Paul,” Mitch said. “If
there is anything you need, please let us know, and we’d be glad to help.”
Catherine stepped forward and wrapped Paul
in a fierce embrace. “Stacy will always live in my heart,” she whispered, her
voice choked with pain. Stacy and Catherine had been best friends.
Paul nodded, but didn’t speak. He couldn’t.
His mind was too numb to form any words.
Others stepped up to him offering their
condolences. Paul continued to stand in silence as each one of them passed by
him. Finally, he was the only one left. He stayed as the casket was slowly
lowered into the ground.
“We’ll drive you to the funeral home now,
sir,” the funeral attendant said softly.
Paul hesitated, then turned and followed the
man to the waiting limo. As they drove toward the funeral home, his mind
drifted back three days.
Paul sat at a table at Papa Georgio’s. He
was meeting his fiancé, Stacy Shields, for dinner. She’d spent the day shopping
for a wedding dress. She’d sounded so excited when she called to tell him she
was on her way to the restaurant. He’d laughed as she enthusiastically
described the “perfect dress.” He glanced at his watch, 7:15 p.m. She’d told
him to meet her at 7:00 p.m. He wasn’t too worried. She often ran late.
However, as the minutes passed, he grew concerned. He tried calling her, but
she didn’t answer her phone.
His phone rang. He quickly answered, not
bothering to check the caller ID. “Where are you?” he asked, relieved she’d
finally called.
“Paul, this is Mitch.” Mitch was a detective
for the Spring Valley police department, and a good friend of Paul’s.
“Sorry, Mitch. I’m meeting Stacy for dinner,
and she’s running late. I thought you were her.”
“That’s why I’m calling, Paul,” Mitch
replied in a serious tone.
Paul felt a tickle of dread run up his
spine. “Has something happened?” he asked, holding his breath as he waited for
the answer.
“Yes,” Mitch answered solemnly. “Stacy was
in an accident.”
“How badly is she hurt?” Paul knew if Mitch
was calling, the accident must have been serious. There was a pause on the
other end of the call. “Tell me, Mitch,” he said, his voice filled with
intensity.
“I’m sorry, Paul. She didn’t survive the
crash,” Mitch finally answered.
Paul felt the air rush from his lungs. Bile
rose in the back of his throat. He doubled over in pain.
“Paul,” Mitch said. “Where are you? I’m
coming to get you.”
“Papa Georgio’s,” Paul replied, barely above
a whisper.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Mitch stated
firmly.
After he ended the call, Paul stood and
rushed to the men’s room. He stood leaning over the sink. He splashed water on
his face, fighting the rush of nausea. His breathing was labored. He glanced in
the mirror and barely recognized the face staring back at him. His skin was
ashen, his brown eyes wide and dazed. He was unaware of the passage of time as
he stood staring at his reflection. His mind screamed that this was just a
terrible nightmare.
He felt something touch his arm and turned.
Mitch stood beside him, his face full of sadness. Paul was surprised he’d been
standing there long enough for Mitch to arrive.
“Come on,” Mitch said softly. “Let’s get out
of here.”
Paul nodded and followed Mitch out of the
restaurant. They rode in silence for several minutes. Finally, Paul whispered,
“What happened?”
Mitch glanced over at him. “It looks like she
dropped her cell phone. When she bent to retrieve it, she swerved into oncoming
traffic and had a head-on collision. She was dead by the time emergency
personnel arrived on the scene.” He paused, allowing Paul time to process the
information. “She was transported to the hospital. That’s where I’m taking
you.”
Paul and Stacy met a little over a year ago.
Stacy worked for the Department of Social Services, Children’s Division. She’d
placed one of the foster children under her care into the home of her best
friend, Catherine James. The boy, Ethan, got into trouble with the law and was
sentenced to community service. Paul was refurbishing an old elementary school
to be used as a recreational center in an underprivileged neighborhood. Ethan’s
community service was to help Paul work on the center. Stacy would bring Ethan
to and from the rec center. Paul liked Stacy right away. She was filled with
energy and vitality. However, it wasn’t until Ethan and his foster mom,
Catherine, had trouble with Ethan’s biological father, and both ended up in the
hospital that Paul started developing romantic feelings toward Stacy.
They began dating, and it didn’t take long
for Paul to realize Stacy was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life
with. It had taken Stacy a while to accept Paul loved her. Although she had a
very outgoing, confident personality, she’d not believed someone with Paul’s
good looks would be interested in her. He finally convinced her he was madly in
love, and she agreed to marry him. That had been six months ago.
Mitch pulled to a stop. Paul glanced out the
window and saw they were at the hospital. He slowly exited the car. His legs
felt heavy as he walked toward the emergency-room entrance. As soon as they
entered, Dr. Derrick Peterson stepped forward to meet them. He and his wife
were friends with Paul and Stacy. His eyes shone with sympathy.
“This way,” Derrick said. Paul followed him
to the far corner of the room. Derrick pulled back the curtain and waited for
Paul to step past him.
Paul pulled up short. He stared at Stacy’s
still form in the hospital bed. Her face was swollen. Several lacerations marred
her delicate skin. A loud sob escaped Paul’s throat as he gazed at her.
Derrick squeezed his shoulder. “Take all the
time you need,” he said, then left Paul alone.
Paul stumbled to the bed. He reached out and
grasped Stacy’s hand. It felt cold, lifeless. “I will always love you,” he
vowed. Then he collapsed onto the chair beside the bed, lowered his head to
rest his forehead against her arm, and wept bitterly.
CHAPTER 1
Elizabeth
Fischer sang along to the radio as she weaved her sleek black BMW through
traffic on her way to work. She was the head of public relations for a large
pharmaceutical company. The company was constantly being bombarded with bad
press. Her job was to spin the negative statements into positive results. The
job was stressful and often times chaotic, but she loved it. She fed off the
adrenaline rush she received each time a “PR nightmare” popped up, and she was
called on to put out the fire.
She pulled her car into her reserved spot in
the parking garage under the high-rise building that housed the corporate
headquarters for Stropmeyer Pharmaceuticals. Her high heels clicked against the
concrete as she made her way to the elevator. Her office was on the 20th
floor. The elevator made numerous stops on the way up. As men got on and off
the elevator, she received several appreciative smiles. Elizabeth politely
returned the smiles. Her platinum-blonde hair framed an oval face with large
blue eyes and a full mouth. After being the brunt of so much teasing in high
school, it had taken her some time to adjust to the fact men found her
attractive. She’d grown from a gangly teenager with braces and thick glasses
into a beautiful woman.
She exited the elevator and moved toward her
office. Several co-workers called out greetings as she passed. “Good morning,
Samantha,” she greeted her secretary.
“I’m not so sure it is a good morning, Ms.
Fischer,” Samantha returned, a worried expression on her face.
“Why? What catastrophe are we facing today?”
Elizabeth asked, a slight smile on her face. She wasn’t too worried about
Samantha’s statement. Each time the company received bad publicity, Samantha
took a defeatist attitude. She called each incident the worst situation they’d
ever faced, and acted as if she was sure the company was going to be put out of
business. Elizabeth found it highly amusing.
“Mr. Stropmeyer is in your office,” Samantha
whispered dramatically.
Elizabeth’s smile vanished. Mr. Stropmeyer,
the head of the company, was the son of the original founder. Very few people
liked him. He had a reputation for firing people without any warning. He rarely
made an appearance, except when he intended to let someone go. He could have
other people do it for him, but he seemed to take pleasure in doing it himself.
“Do you know what he wants?” Elizabeth
asked.
Samantha shook her head.
“How long has he been in there?”
“About fifteen minutes,” Samantha answered.
Elizabeth took a deep breath and squared her
shoulders. Planting a smile on her face, she stepped into her office. “Mr.
Stropmeyer, what a pleasant surprise. Sorry to have kept you waiting.”
The man was seated in her leather office chair.
He frowned at her, his sagging cheeks jiggling as he shook his head in
displeasure. Mr. Stropmeyer was in his late sixties. He was short and extremely
overweight. His mottled complexion and red-rimmed eyes indicated he drank to
excess.
“Has something happened, Mr. Stropmeyer?”
Elizabeth asked, standing awkwardly in front of her desk.
“Is this the time you always arrive, Ms.
Fischer,” he asked, his tone aggravated.
Elizabeth glanced at the wall clock. It was
just a little after 7:30 a.m. Her day didn’t officially start until 8:00 a.m.
“Yes, sir,” she answered.
Mr. Stropmeyer snorted with derision. “I
guess I should just get this over with. Ms. Fischer, you’re fired.”
“What?!” Elizabeth exploded in shock.
“You heard me. I expect you to pack up your
things and be gone by the end of the day.” The man struggled to his feet and
lumbered out the door.
Elizabeth stood in stunned silence. What just happened? she wondered as
shock waves rolled through her. She stood there for a full two minutes. Then she
started to shake as anger set in. How
dare he? I’ve worked my butt off for this company for five years, never even
took a sick day, and this is the way I get treated? She spun on her heel
and marched out of the office. Samantha’s jaw dropped when she saw the
murderous rage on Elizabeth’s face.
The executive offices were on the 21st
floor. Elizabeth tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the elevator
doors to open. As soon as they did, she jumped inside and viciously punched the
button. Anger continued to build inside of her as the elevator glided up to the
next floor. The doors opened and she rushed out, slamming into someone entering
the elevator. The person mumbled an apology, but Elizabeth didn’t respond. Her
focus was centered entirely on the rage boiling inside her.
Mr. Stropmeyer’s secretary jumped to her
feet and moved to block Elizabeth’s path. “Ms. Fischer, please stop,” she
pleaded, holding her hands out in front of her.
“I need to see Mr. Stropmeyer, now!”
Elizabeth roared at the woman.
“He’s in a meeting. You can’t go in there,”
the secretary replied.
Elizabeth shoved past the woman and burst
into the office. Mr. Stropmeyer was seated at a long table with five other men.
Their eyes swung to Elizabeth as she rushed into the room.
“I tried to stop her, Mr. Stropmeyer,” the
secretary said, a note of fear in her voice.
“Ms. Fischer, I’ve said all I intend to say
to you. You have ten seconds to turn around and exit my office, or I’m going to
call security,” Mr. Stropmeyer said, his voice shaking with anger.
Elizabeth glared at the man. “You have no
right to fire me without giving me an explanation,” she spat out angrily. “I’ve
done a good job. In fact, I’ve saved your company’s ass on more than one
occasion. I deserve to know why you are firing me.”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” the
man replied.
Elizabeth took a step toward him. She felt a
spurt of satisfaction when he flinched slightly. “You are a miserable human
being.”
Mr. Stropmeyer jumped to his feet. “GET
OUT!” he roared.
Ignoring the man’s outburst, Elizabeth
scanned the faces of the men seated around the conference table. Her eyes
widened in surprise when the face of Preston Collins came into view. He was the
most powerful PR man in the business.
“You stole my job, didn’t you?” Elizabeth
asked, narrowing her eyes on the man.
He flashed her an easy grin and shrugged his
shoulders.
Elizabeth knew there was nothing left to
say. If Preston Collins wanted her job, he was going to get it. There was no
way she could compete with someone with his reputation. She spun on her heel
and marched from the room. She hurried the short distance to the elevator and
punched the button.
“Excuse me, Ms. Fischer,” a voice spoke
beside her.
Elizabeth turned. A small, wiry man with
grey hair stood smiling at her. His blues eyes were soft and kind. “I’m Phillip
Grogan. I’m on the board of directors here. I’m sorry about the way you were
treated. I think you’ve done an excellent job. I wanted to give you my card. I
have a job I think you’d be perfect for. Give me a call in the next few days
and we can talk.” He held a business card out to her.
Elizabeth took the card. “What kind of job?”
she asked.
“We can talk about it in a few days. You
need some time to cool off,” he turned and returned to Mr. Stropmeyer’s office.
Elizabeth glanced down. The man’s name and
phone number were the only things printed on the card. It gave no indication as
to what kind of business the man was in. She shrugged. She didn’t have time to
think about the strange little man. Her mind was still reeling over the events
of the last few minutes.
All of her energy left her as the elevator
carried her down to her floor. She had to use all of her concentration to place
one foot in front of the other and walk to her office.
“He fired you, didn’t he?” Samantha asked as
she passed by.
Elizabeth nodded.
“Does that mean I’m fired, too?” Samantha
asked. She’d only been Elizabeth’s secretary for a few months. Her previous
secretary left after she met “Mr. Right” through an online dating service. He
lived in another state, so her secretary had moved to join him.
“I have no idea,” Elizabeth answered, her
voice sounding hollow to her ears. “I guess that’s up to my replacement. Could
you please find me a couple of boxes?”
“Um, sure,” Samantha answered, getting to
her feet.
Elizabeth walked into her office and moved
to look through the window. She gazed out over the city. The sight of all the
cars buzzing along the city streets below her usually soothed her, but instead,
she felt dizzy looking down at them. She pressed her head against the glass and
closed her eyes.
A few moments later, she heard a slight
cough. She glanced over her shoulder.
“I brought the boxes,” Samantha said,
pointing at two boxes sitting on the floor in the center of the room. “I’m
really sorry, Ms. Fischer,” she said as she backed out of the room and closed
the door.
Elizabeth sighed heavily and moved to pick
up one of the boxes. It only took her a few minutes to gather up her things.
She was surprised to see everything fit into one box. She hadn’t realize how
few personal items she’d brought to her office. As she made her way to the
elevator, the room was filled with silence. No one looked up as she walked past
them. It was such a stark contrast to the friendly greetings she’d received
only a short time ago.
She drove toward her apartment, and for the
first time since buying the car six months previously, she regretted the
impulsive purchase. The car was more expensive than anything she’d ever bought
before. It had been her 28th birthday present to herself. She’d felt
confident in her career and was making really good money. She’d convinced
herself she deserved to spoil herself a little. What was she going to do now?
If she didn’t find another good job soon, there was no way she’d be able to
keep up the payments. When she arrived at her apartment, she set the box on the
coffee table in front of her sofa, went to the kitchen, and poured herself a
glass of red wine. Grabbing the bottle, she returned to the living room. She
turned on her stereo and sank down onto the sofa. Leaning back against the
cushions, she closed her eyes. I wish I
could call you, Mom, she thought, a tear slipping out of the corner of her
eye. Her parents had been killed in a car accident the previous year. She’d
been close to both of them, but especially her mother. She didn’t have any
siblings. Her mom had been her best friend. She wasn’t sure how much time had
passed when she finally stood and padded to her bedroom. She kicked off her
shoes and fell onto the bed fully clothed.
The next morning, Elizabeth awoke with a
sense of determination. “I’m not going to let the old bastard defeat me,” she
told herself as she made a pot of coffee. “This is a big city. There are plenty
of good jobs out there.”
She spent the morning updating her resume.
Then she started scouring the Internet for job postings. As the morning wore
on, she lost some of her confidence. She was worried about the low number of
public relations jobs she’d found. Aren’t
companies worried about their image these days? she thought. She made a
list of the openings she found and put them in order of preference. Then she
spent several hours doing research on each of the companies, in the event she
secured an interview. She decided to visit the companies the next day. By the
end of the night, she felt satisfied with the progress she’d made. She’d never
been a procrastinator. When something needed to be done, she jumped right in
and got to it. She didn’t understand people who continually put things off. It
drove her crazy to have an unfinished task hanging over her head.
The next morning, Elizabeth dressed in her
black business suit, packed her resume and reference list into a leather
briefcase, and set out to get a new job. There were four companies on her list.
Her first stop was the law firm of Packer and Smith. She’d heard of them, and
the research she’d done the night before revealed they were some of the big
boys.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.
“Yes, I am here to apply for the public
relations position,” Elizabeth answered.
The woman shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry,
but that position has already been filled.”
Elizabeth felt a wave of disappointment pour
through her. This was by far the best job opening she’d found. The other three
jobs on her list were for much smaller, less influential companies. She nodded
and said, “Thank you for your time.”
When she got to her car, she sat staring out
the windshield for several moments, giving herself a pep talk. “This is only a
minor setback. There are three more options on the list, and something else could
open up any day.” Drawing a deep breath, she started her car and pulled onto
the street.
She received similar statements at her next
two stops. The jobs had already been filled. The last place on her list told
her they’d decided not to fill the position. Elizabeth felt completely deflated
by the time she returned to her apartment. She dropped her briefcase inside the
door, kicked off her heels, and padded to the sofa. She collapsed and stared up
at the ceiling. There was enough money in her bank account to cover this
month’s bills, but if she didn’t have a job by the time the next month rolled
around, she’d be in big trouble.
Her stomach growled. She stood and started
walking toward the kitchen. “Ouch!” she cried as her shin banged into the
corner of the coffee table. The box filled with her office supplies crashed to
the floor. Elizabeth moaned and bent to pick it up. The business card the old
man handed her when she’d left Stropmeyer’s lay beside the box. She’d forgotten
all about it. Picking it up, she studied it for a moment. The man had said he
had a job he thought she’d be great for. Maybe, she should give him a call tomorrow
and find out more about it. Placing the card on the table, she continued to the
kitchen to fix herself something to eat.
~
The next
morning, she picked up the business card and called the number.
“Hello,” a gravelly voice answered.
Elizabeth was surprised to hear such an
informal greeting. She’d expected a secretary to answer her call. “Yes, I’m
calling to speak with Mr. Grogan,” Elizabeth replied.
“This is Phillip,” the voice answered.
“Mr.
Grogan, this is Elizabeth Fischer. You gave me your card the other day and
mentioned you might have a job for me.”
“Sure, I may be getting old, but I remember
what happened a few days ago,” the man answered, a note of teasing in his
voice. “How about we meet for lunch, and I can tell you all about it?”
“All right,” Elizabeth answered, not sure
what to think of the man’s teasing tone.
“There’s this delicious little diner over on
the corner of Wellington and 3rd. It’s called Sunset Diner. Do you
know it?” he asked.
“No, but I’m sure I can find it,” Elizabeth
replied.
“Good, I’ll meet you there at noon.”
After she ended the call, Elizabeth sighed
and leaned back against the sofa cushions. She didn’t have a lot of hope this
meeting was going to be fruitful. The old man seemed to be a little off his
rocker. She wasn’t even sure there actually was a job. Oh well, she thought. It
doesn’t hurt to meet with him and see what he has to say.
Elizabeth felt another moment of hesitation
about her decision to meet with Phillip Grogan when she saw the diner he’d
recommended. The place was the epitome of the greasy spoon. Her nose wrinkled
when she walked in and saw a large man wearing a stained apron frying
hamburgers on a long griddle.
“Over here, Ms. Fischer,” a voice called.
Elizabeth turned and spotted Phillip sitting
in a booth in the far corner of the little restaurant. The cracked red leather
squeaked loudly as he slid out and reached for her hand. His face was lit with
a friendly smile. “I’m certainly glad you decided to call me,” he said as they
slid into the booth.
As soon as they were seated, a waitress
wearing a blouse that was two sizes too small stepped up to their table. Elizabeth
worried the buttons straining against her large breasts would pop off at any
moment.
“Hello, Rosie,” Phillip greeted.
“Hello yourself, handsome,” Rosie replied.
“What can I get you today?”
“We’ll both have the special,” Phillip
replied. He caught Elizabeth’s surprised look and smiled. “Trust me. You’ll
love it,” he said.
Rosie met Elizabeth’s gaze. “What would you
like to drink, sugar?”
Elizabeth felt as if she’d been transported
back in time. Who talked like that anymore? Rosie reminded her of the waitresses
she saw in movies from the fifties. “Um, I’ll have a Diet Coke,” Elizabeth
answered.
“Food’ll be out in a jiffy,” Rosie replied,
turning from the table.
Elizabeth watched her walk away. Then she
turned her head and met Phillip’s smiling eyes.
“The way you busted into Harold’s office the
other day was priceless,” he chuckled. “I’ve never seen anyone have enough guts
to stand up to him before.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Well, in hindsight, it probably
wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
“But it felt good, didn’t it?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, it did,” she replied.
“I’ve been on the board at Stropmeyer since
Harold was a boy. His daddy was a good man, but Harold isn’t worth a hill of
beans. He’s been trying to get rid of me for years. The only reason I haven’t
retired is that it gives me pleasure to be a nuisance to him.”
Elizabeth smiled. She liked Phillip Grogan.
He reminded her of her grandfather. “So, can you tell me about the job offer?”
she asked.
He nodded and leaned forward
enthusiastically. “I am also on the board of directors for the Spring Valley
Animal Shelter. We’re looking for a new president and I think you’d be
perfect.”
Elizabeth stared at him in shocked silence.
An animal shelter? She didn’t know the first thing about animals. She’d never
even had a pet. What in the world would she know about running an animal
shelter, and in Spring Valley? She’d driven through there once. It was a small
city about twenty miles away.
“Well?” he prompted eagerly.
“Mr.
Grogan, what makes you think I would want the job? I don’t know the first thing
about animals.”
Phillip smiled. “You don’t have to. The
president’s job is all about fundraising and PR. The shelter isn’t generating
enough revenue to house all the animals. We need someone who knows how to build
an image and get the word out. We need someone who won’t take no for an
answer.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Grogan, but that person
isn’t me,” she replied.
Just then, Rosie placed their plates on the
table. A giant, juicy hamburger and onion rings filled the plate. Elizabeth
hadn’t eaten that much greasy food in years.
“I don’t want you to decide right now. Think
about it for a few days, then get back with me. Let’s just enjoy our lunch.”
Elizabeth sighed and picked up the
hamburger. She thought it would be impolite not to eat the food. She took a
bite, then moaned with pleasure.
“Good, isn’t it?” Phillip chuckled.
Elizabeth nodded. “It’s delicious,” she said
around the bite in her mouth. She couldn’t believe it, when several minutes
later, she popped the last onion ring into her mouth.
“It’s best not to dismiss something, until
you try it,” Phillip commented. Elizabeth suspected he was talking about the
food.