“What’s this?” Roger asked, poking the soup with a spoon.
“Is it that damn tomato I told you never to give me again?”
“No, sir,” the head server replied respectfully. “It’s cream of carrot.”
“Mmph.” Roger tasted it, then made a face. “Barely edible.
Does anyone in this house like carrots?”
“Kerry does,” Michael remarked, and sipped a spoonful of the soup. “I bet she’d like this.” He jerked slightly as Angie kicked him under the table.
Angie sighed. “She probably would, if it were being served anywhere but here.”
Her mother frowned. “Angela.”
Roger looked up and gave his children a dour stare. “I’m sure she would. But it’ll be a cold day in Hell before you ever find out, hmm? So keep your mouths shut until you have something intelligent to say.” He gave each of them a pointed look. “Should be a quiet meal.”
There was a long moment of tense silence, then Cynthia sighed again. “Well, so, how was your day, Michael? Did you meet any new clients?”
“Um…no.”
Roger laughed again, this time with a disgusted edge to the sound. Then he looked up abruptly. “Damned ironic that the one person in this family who could handle an intelligent discussion won’t ever be here for it.”
Silence settled in against the soft clanking of spoons.
DAR ENTERED HER office, tossed the report folder down on her desk, and watched it slide across the polished surface as she walked around behind it. She neatly caught the packet as it slid off the desk, and threw it into her outbox with a little noise of disgust.
Mondays. I hate them. Dar took a seat, nudged her trackball, and watched the screen come up. It was full of dark messages, some with red exclamation points. She rubbed her eyes and started to read them, cursing under her breath. “No.” She clicked delete. “No.” She clicked delete again. “Kiss my ass.” She selected three and deleted them. “Son of a bitch, what is wrong with these Thicker Than Water 15
people today?” Her phone rang and she hit the button. “Yes?”
“Dar, I have Mr. Alastair on numero uno,” Maria replied.
Jesus. “Okay, thanks.” Dar punched the line open. “Hi.”
“Morning, Dar.” Alastair sounded relatively relaxed. “Anything new going on there?”
Dar stared at the phone. “Were you expecting there to be?”
“Nah,” Alastair answered. “Just felt like touching base with you. How’s the shoulder?”
“Fine, Uncle Al. How’s your bursitis?” Dar replied, half amused and half aggravated. “You hear from Gerry?”
“Nope, not a word,” Alastair answered. “But I figure that as far as that goes, no news is one less thing I have to have chewing my shorts up, if you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” Dar said. “To answer your original question, it’s quiet here for a change. Just a lot of annoying crap in my mailbox I’m trying to catch up on.”
“Good to hear,” Alastair said. “Kerry doing okay? I got the feeling she was a little shook up with all that activity, eh? She settle down?”
Dar frowned at the phone. “Alastair?”
“Eh?”
“What the hell’s going on?”
Alastair sighed. “I’m trying to work on my subtlety, Dar.
You’re not helping.”
Blue eyes blinked a few times. “And it’s supposed to work on me?”
“Not really, no,” he said. “Fact is, I got wind that a relative of hers could be behind all this mish-mosh of questioning our contracts with the military.” His tone was serious. “So, I was wondering if she’d been in conflict with him again, maybe stirred him up.”
Dar snorted. “If that’s all it takes to stir him up, he’s not worth the six dollars per square yard of linen my tax dollars pay to clothe him.”
“Mm.”
“No,” she went on. “Kerry hasn’t spoken to her folks for a while. Nothing’s going on. He’s probably just being an asshole because he is one…and because of me.”
“Ah.”
Dar drummed her fingers on the desk. “This just start?”
“Nah,” Alastair answered. “Apparently he instigated it right after we first signed the deal. It’s just now bubbling to the top.”
Not because of what I gave him, then. “Well, I can’t help it. I can’t change what’s pissing him off. You think it’s real trouble?”
Alastair sighed again. “I think it might be. I know you can’t 16 Melissa Good fix it, Dar; I was just curious. I’ll take care of it on my end. Don’t fret over it.”
Dar suspected they both knew that bit of advice wasn’t going anywhere. “You think he’s coming after us? God damn it, Alastair, I saved the bastard’s life. What more does he want from me?”
“I know.” Alastair’s voice modified to a gentler tone. “Dar, it’s not you, it’s him. Let me handle it. I just wanted to know if there was anything going on with him and Kerry before I start hitting below the belt. Understand—I don’t give a damn if he’s her father. If he scotches this contract, we’re in big trouble, lady. I can’t make those dollars up at this late date in the fiscal year.”
No kidding. Dar chewed on the inside of her lip. The contract had been a huge plus for them when they’d announced it. “Do you know what it would mean if we had to go back on that now?”
“Lady, do I ever,” Alastair remarked dryly. “Talk at you later, huh? Have a good day, Dar.”
“Yeah.” Dar hung up the phone and grimaced. “Now you say that.”
HER PHONE WAS ringing as she entered and she contem-plated letting it go to voice mail, then sighed and answered it.
“Operations, Kerry Stuart.”
“Hey, Kerry, this is Ilene, from the church?” The voice hesitantly added, “I do the youth group counseling with you?”
“Oh, sure.” Kerry’s mental train jerked onto a new set of tracks. “Sorry. What’s up?”
“Have you heard from Lena, the kid in the group? You know the one I mean?” Ilene asked. “She was supposed to meet me for lunch yesterday, and she never showed.”
Kerry started shutting down her computer. “Well, maybe something came up; you know how it is. She didn’t call or anything?”
“No. And yeah, I know stuff happens, but two of her friends were here just now looking for her. They said she hasn’t been around for a couple of days, and they’re a little worried. I thought maybe she might have contacted you.”
“Me?” Kerry’s brow creased. “No. I don’t think I gave my number out to the group and I’m not listed in the phone book. If she does contact me somehow, though, I’ll definitely get in touch with you. Do they think something happened to her or—”
“No one’s sure. It’s just weird for her not to be around for that long. She didn’t say she was going anywhere.” Ilene sighed.
“Well, it was a long shot, but Casey said Lena really likes you, so I Thicker Than Water 17
thought maybe you’d given her your number or something.
Thanks anyway, Kerry.”
“No problem,” Kerry replied. “I’ll keep an eye out for her, okay?”
“Much appreciated. Talk to you later.”
The unexpected call left Kerry a bit unsettled. She finished closing down her system, then checked her caller ID and copied Ilene’s number into her Palm Pilot. She’d met the other counselor a few times at church functions and rather liked her, but they hadn’t spent much time talking to each other since then.
Pity, really, since Ilene shared her general background and upbringing. She'd been born in Detroit into a family of old car money whose reaction to her coming out had been, if not as spec-tacular as that of Kerry’s parents, at least as vicious. They’d taken just about everything she owned and had thrown her out of the house, forcing her to move somewhere, anywhere, and support herself.