He pulled out a dessert plate from the overhead cabinet, then opened the fridge, looking for the cake. He put both on the counter as she placed a cake knife and a fork beside the cake container.
“Is there any significance to that? It sounds like there’s a story there.” He went about slicing off his cake and putting the rest back in the fridge.
“Yeah, it was something I got from Mat. When I first got out of the pen, I didn’t really see things working out so well for me, and I was having a pretty bad time adjusting to being on the outside. Yeah, I’m an architect, but after eight years in prison for murder, my degrees don’t mean shit. I had little hope I’d be able to rebuild my life to what it was before things took a very dark turn. So even though I’d accepted my placement in the Pathways program, I had no illusions it would work for me.
“Mat had this saying on a poster in his office. Every time I went to his office, he’d point to it and explain that tomorrow, and every tomorrow after that, was a chance for me to make things better. The only person who could stop me from having a better life was me. I liked his explanation of things, so I had it tattooed on my shoulder.”
Jackson was impressed with Brooklyn’s depiction of Mat as a mentor. The two men might never be friends, but it was obvious he’d been a great support to Brooklyn.I guess he really isn’t all that bad.
“Mat keeps inspirational quotes on the walls of his office?” he asked. “I guess I could see that about him.”
“Yeah, that particular one is in Spanish, though. It says, ‘Mañana no está escrito.’”
Jackson was about to shovel the first piece of fluffy cake into his mouth when the memory of the broken bracelet in evidence flashed across his mind. The fork in his hand clattered to the plate in front of him, pulling Brooklyn’s attention to him. “What did you say?”
She nailed him with a hard glare. “I said the quote is in Spanish. ‘Mañana no está escrito.’”
Jackson jumped up. “Come on. I’m taking you back to your cabin. You will stay there, and call Aunt Jo and tell her to stay in her cabin too.”
“What’s going on, Jackson?”
He pulled out his phone and dialed Aja’s number. When it went to voicemail, he let out a loud growl before yelling, “Do it, Brooklyn.” She must’ve seen the worry in his eyes, because she didn’t question him. Instead, they hurried to his truck in the front driveway as he prayed he wouldn’t be too late.
Chapter 41
Aja sat in front of Mat’s office, trying to get herself together. She’d expected they would have to meet after Seneca was drugged. But after unloading all her emotional baggage on Jackson, she wasn’t in the best mindset to be the helpful, cooperative partner she needed to display whenever she dealt with Mat on Brooklyn and Seneca’s behalf.
She rummaged through the arm console in her vehicle for her travel toiletry kit. She pulled the fingernail file out and rested it atop her left thigh to keep it out of her way as she continued digging for the eye drops, facial tissues, and lip gloss she always kept there.
She applied the drops and used a facial tissue to clean herself up, added a little gloss to her lips, and ran her hands through her braids. A quick look in the mirror, and she was satisfied she could fool Mat into believing she was the levelheaded, even-keeled owner of Restoration Ranch he’d come to know and depend on. If he doubted her ability to keep parolees safe, he could prevent her from taking part in Pathways. Where would Seneca and Brooklyn be then?
She stepped out of the car and heard the sound of metal clinking against the tarred parking lot. She bent down to retrieve her forgotten fingernail file and slipped it into her front pocket before taking the few steps to the strip-mall building and opening the door. It was after five; she was certain the friendly receptionist who usually greeted her when she was here during regular business hours had packed up for the day and headed home.
She walked beyond reception down the narrow hallway until she was standing in front of Mat’s door. She tapped it lightly, and the door cracked open.
“Mat? You here?” When she received no response, she looked at her watch to see if she’d somehow mixed up the time. Her watch confirmed she was on time. At least this mix-up wasn’t her fault. The mess back at the ranch with Jackson was another matter altogether.
She shook herself, too afraid thoughts of her earlier encounter with him would bring her back to tears. Aja walked into the office. She stopped at the desk, looking for something to write a note on, when skin-prickling cold gave way to a deep shudder.
Looking around to see what had her hackles up, she found Mat standing behind the door, leaning on the wall. “You scared me. What are you doing hiding behind the door?”
He remained behind the door, stretching his arm out until it reached the knob while the other hand remained in his pocket. He slowly walked until the door was closed and his back was resting against it.
Something about this picture made her uncomfortable. Not that she’d never been in a room with a closed door with Mat before, but the way the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up, she knew something was wrong.
“Mat? Maybe we should reschedule.”
“I’d love to, but there’s no time.” He swallowed deeply, the muscles in his throat tugging his Adam’s apple up and down as his mouth thinned into a straight line.
“What’s going on, Mat? If this isn’t about Pathways business, I think it’s time I left.” She stepped around the back of his desk, trying to make an end run for the door. But then he lifted the hand he’d kept in his pocket and pointed a handgun directly at her.
“Aja, I have tried to protect you, but you make it so hard. You have to listen to me. If I don’t get you out of here now, they’ll kill you.”
* * *
“If you kill us trying to get there, who will save Aja?”
Jackson couldn’t take his eyes off the road long enough to spare Storm a glance. His tires ate up the dark road illuminated by the flashing emergency lights on his truck. Unless he wanted to risk their lives, he’d keep his focus in front of him and not on Storm. “If he harms her…”
