A Time To Give. Kathryn Shay

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СКАЧАТЬ there’s no use in dustin’ for prints. This place would be a hotbed of suspicious ones. We took pictures and we’ll ask around the neighborhood if anybody saw anything, but if I were you, I wouldn’t count on findin’ out who did this.” He glanced at the other volunteers and at Emily. “Meanwhile, you all should be careful about coming and going here. I’ll alert patrol cars, but don’t walk out alone at night or hang around inside without a lot of people to keep you company.” He made some notes on his pad. “And get those locks reinforced. Heavy dead bolts at the top and bottom oughtta do it.”

      “I’ve already called the chair of the board,” Alice said. “He’s going to have a locksmith here tomorrow.”

      After the police left, Emily faced Alice. “I’m so sorry.”

      “Damn it.” The older woman kicked a nearby stool, then pulled herself together. “Well, no use cryin’ over spilled milk—” she rolled her eyes “—pardon the pun. We have to clean up. And somebody has to tell them outside there won’t be a meal tonight.”

      “I will.” They all turned to see Ben standing in the doorway. “I heard what the police said. I’m sorry.”

      Alice gave Ben a grateful smile. “Thanks. I’d appreciate it if you’d tell the guests.”

      As Ben left, Emily wondered why he was here on a Wednesday, so early in the evening. Shrugging, she rolled up her sleeves. “What can I do?”

      Alice surveyed the kitchen. “Might as well start in here. Then we can see about the damage in the dining room.”

      They began by tossing the trashed food into barrels, and went on to clean up appliances and countertops. They were about half finished when they heard banging in the dining room. “Oh, dear,” one of the volunteers said. “Do you think the vandals are back?”

      Everybody in the kitchen stood still. Finally, Jimmy crept to the swinging doors, cracked one and peeked through. Smiling, he pushed the door all the way open. “Way to go Ben,” he called out.

      There were about a dozen men straightening tables and righting chairs. Emily scanned the dining hall where graffiti had been scrawled on walls in ugly black lettering: epithets, four-letter words, boasts including I Am the King!

      In an hour, both rooms were set to order. Ben entered the kitchen just as they finished mopping the floor. “Alice, got a sec?”

      “Sure, Ben, for you.”

      When she returned a few minutes later, she was grinning like a proud grandma. “He’s got a crew organized to stay tomorrow night and paint after we serve dinner.”

      “How sweet,” Emily said. “I’m going to go thank them all.” But when she hurried into the dining room, Ben was gone.

      The next night, Emily shared a quick meal with her father, and though it wasn’t one of her regular shifts to volunteer, she changed into old jeans spattered with paint, a T-shirt she’d bought on a trip to Italy, which read Ciao, Bella, and ancient tennis shoes. She arrived at Cassidy Place just after the painting had begun.

      Standing in the doorway, she watched Ben direct the cleanup as if he’d been leading men all his life, as if he had experience being in charge. As she reached him, she noticed he wore low-riding jeans, a black T-shirt and battered sneakers, but he might as well have been dressed in a thousand-dollar suit for his commanding presence. “Hi. What can I do?”

      He obviously hadn’t seen her come in. His smile was brilliant—for a moment—then the Mr. Leave-Me-Alone mask fell into place. “You don’t volunteer on Thursdays.”

      “Not normally. But I knew you were painting so I came to help.”

      He eyed her outfit. “I see you’ve had some experience.”

      “Yep. Put me to work.”

      “Alice and Pat can use help over in the entryway.” He handed her a paintbrush. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

      His whimsy warmed her as much as his grin—as much as his uncensored reaction to the puppies. Given a different situation, this man would enjoy life. He probably had at one time. More than ever, she wished she knew his background.

      There were nearly two dozen workers, so it only took a few hours to give the dining hall a couple of coats of paint. By the time they finished, Emily’s shoulders ached. But her heart was full. Humming softly, she cleaned her brush. When she finished, she looked for Alice, who was talking to Ben near the kitchen.

      “The place needed a new coat of paint anyway. Looks good, don’t you think, Alice?” There was pride in Ben’s voice.

      “Yep. Don’t guess it had been painted since Cassidy Industries did it years ago.”

      “No, it hadn’t been.”

      Alice focused her shrewd gaze on him. “How do you know that?”

      Flushed, Ben caught sight of Emily. “Well, looks like we’re all cleaned up. I’ll be going.” He scanned the room. “Jimmy seeing you to your cars?”

      Alice nodded. “Uh-huh.”

      When he started to walk away, Emily said, “Ben, wait. Let us give you a lift home.”

      “No thanks,” he called over his shoulder. “See you Monday.”

      She frowned after him. “He shouldn’t have to walk home after doing this for us.”

      Squeezing her shoulder, Alice said, “Watch it girl, you’re playing with fire.”

      Alice’s words echoed in Emily’s head as she climbed into her car, waved Jimmy off and drove out of the parking lot. Damn Ben. He could at least accept a ride as payment for his help. Annoyed by his foolish pride, she cruised the few blocks near the soup kitchen. Hell, she was thirty-four years old and she could drive downtown if she wanted.

      Ten minutes later she was about to give up when she spotted him, stopped for a light at Andrews Street. Emily was touched by the loneliness of the figure, silhouetted in the streetlight. His head was down, his shoulders slumped and his hands were stuffed in his pockets. As she swerved to the curb beside him, he glanced toward her car and did a double take. For a moment, he stood still. Then he stalked to the Taurus. Given his now-rigid stance, she had a fleeting thought that maybe coming after him wasn’t such a good idea.

      BEN WAITED FOR THE LOCKS to click—at least she’d taken that precaution—then yanked open the door. He slid in, relocked the car from the passenger side and counted to ten. Then he switched off the engine and grabbed her shoulders. “Damn it, Emily. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

      Wide-eyed, she trembled in his arms. “Looking for you.”

      “Down here? At this hour of the night?”

      “If it’s that dangerous, you shouldn’t be walking about alone, either.”

      “I can take care of myself.”

      “So can I.”

      “Princess, you don’t have a clue.” He wanted to shake her and kiss her at the same time. The scent of her hung СКАЧАТЬ