The Alaskan Catch. Beth Carpenter

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СКАЧАТЬ the urgency to acquire another piece of furniture. But if she said so, Mom would explain why this piece was a bargain or one of a kind or some other reason she had to have it. By the time the piece was delivered, she would have forgotten all about it and moved on to her next acquisition.

      Her mother had never even learned to write a check until Dad died. Dana taught her how so she would be able to pay the bills, but she was beginning to think that had been a mistake. Mom seemed to delight in it, like a kid with a new toy. However, she wasn’t so eager for a lesson on balancing a checkbook. There was a good reason Dad had doled out Mom’s weekly spending allowance in cash; cash couldn’t be overdrawn.

      That’s why Dana hired someone to handle her mother’s bills and checkbook while she was out of town. She would only be gone a week or two, most likely. How much trouble could Mom get into in that amount of time? “If you think it’s important, go ahead. Just make a note for Ginny with the check number and amount.”

      “I’ll do that.” Mom’s voice relaxed. “What is it you’re doing again?”

      Dana repressed a sigh. “I told you, I was going on a trip to look for Chris.”

      “Oh, yes. Did you find him?” Honestly. She asked about the son she hadn’t seen in almost two decades with the same level of interest as asking about a misplaced sock. Dana would suspect senility except Mom wasn’t that old, and Dana could never remember her being any other way. Only things mattered to her, never people.

      “I did find him. In Anchorage.”

      “Anchorage, Alaska?” This time, some emotion sounded in her voice. It almost sounded like fear. “What are you doing in Alaska?”

      “I told you. Chris is here.” Dana stood and paced across the living room.

      “Did you talk to him?”

      “Briefly. He was on his way out.”

      “So he hasn’t agreed to accept the bequest?”

      “Not yet. I’ll talk to him again later.”

      “I don’t know why you had to go all that way. Isn’t that what we pay the lawyers for?”

      “I volunteered. Since I’m not working—”

      “Why did you quit, anyway? Doesn’t the business your father built mean anything to you?”

      It used to. Dana had worked her tail off in her father’s business, Reliable Equipment and Tool Rental, and due in no small part to her efforts, it thrived. She kept waiting for Dad to notice. But then he got sick and appointed his golf buddy as manager. Dana had tried to tell Dad she could handle it, but he said he didn’t want her to put in the extra hours in the office when he needed her at home taking care of him. And somehow, he’d never gotten around to updating the will. “I just couldn’t work under Jerry.”

      “You worked under him for two years after Wayne had his first heart attack.”

      “Yes, but that was when I thought—Never mind. It shouldn’t take too long to finish up my business here. I’ll be home before you know it. In the meantime, Ginny can take care of everything. You’ll be okay, won’t you?”

      “I suppose so.” Her mother hesitated. “Just be careful. Don’t they have wild animals or something up there?”

      Dana glanced out the window at the suburban neighborhood. A pair of birds soared in front of the green mountains rising behind it. She’d never seen a more peaceful vista in her life. Still, Mom had shown a smidge of concern for someone besides herself. That was progress. Dana smiled. “I’ll be careful. Bye, Mom.”

      Dana set her phone on the table. Some things never changed. Shopping was her mother’s overriding passion. Almost every day brought another shopping bag of stuff into the house. Once Dana was old enough, her after-school job was to find the items that still carried price tags and return them to the store so Mom would have enough cash to buy groceries and household supplies. Fortunately, Mom’s favorite department store was still downtown then, within walking distance of their house.

      Dana hated the walk of shame to the customer service window every other day, but the employees were understanding, all except one. When Mrs. Valens, the owner’s wife, happened to be working returns, she always threw out a catty comment guaranteed to turn Dana’s face crimson.

      But in spite of Dana’s efforts, the house overflowed with furniture, clothes, knickknacks and decorations. That was one of the reasons Dana loved her own little cottage, with a minimum amount of clutter despite all the gifts Mom tried to foist onto her. She’d lined up her favorite books in neat rows on the bookshelves, sorted kitchen utensils into bins in the drawers and corralled pens and pencils into pretty mugs. It was comfortable, and she could use some of that comfort right now.

      But what Dana needed was a plan of action. She wasn’t going home until she’d come to some sort of understanding with Chris. With her father gone, she was determined to bring Chris back into the family. He said she could stay in his house and use his car, so he must have a soft spot for her somewhere. She could just wait here until he came back. How long did fishing trips usually last, anyway? A day or two?

      In the meantime, she might as well settle in. She carried the cold mug of coffee to the kitchen, poured it down the sink and opened the refrigerator door. Mustard, ketchup and three bottles of beer. Definitely a bachelor’s place.

      She found a pad in a drawer and started a list. Milk, bread, eggs and a few more staples. And she’d get ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, Chris’s favorite. Homemade food always softened him up. After washing the mugs, she grabbed her purse and Chris’s key ring and stepped through the kitchen door into the garage.

      A gleaming red convertible greeted her, parked in the shadow of a pickup with a camper shell. Wow. Maybe Chris’s taste in cars had evolved. But how could he afford a house and three cars on a job that allowed him to start a fishing trip on a Tuesday afternoon? A few unwelcome possibilities flitted through her mind. Was “fishing” a euphemism for something else?

      Chris wouldn’t do anything...illegal. Would he? Not the Chris she knew. But then, she didn’t know him anymore. Still, if he were some sort of criminal, he would have jumped at the offer of ready cash. Right?

      She slid onto the soft leather seats of the car. A big step-up from her six-year-old compact. She rested her hand on the stick shift and smiled, remembering Chris’s patient, if ineffective, tutoring. With the press of a button, the garage door opened. After a little fumbling, trying to decipher the key system, she located a start button and the engine roared to life, then settled into a smooth purr. Cool.

      The car prowled up the street. Dana slowed to a crawl and inched over an unusually large speed bump. She didn’t want to take a chance on messing up Chris’s gorgeous car. She almost felt guilty for using it to run errands. It was designed for something much less mundane, like swooping around the curves of a scenic highway in a dramatic chase scene for a movie.

      She’d passed a grocery store in the taxi on the way, so she headed in that direction and found what she needed.

      After arriving home and putting away the groceries, Dana nibbled on a salad from the store deli. In spite of the daylight still gleaming through the windows, the clock on the microwave read nine thirty, which would make it well after midnight in Kansas, where she’d started the day. She yawned and found the sheets Chris had mentioned and then carried them СКАЧАТЬ