“Wow, thank you. This isgreatnews.” It was validating too. People liked her show; it felt wonderful to hear it.
“Worth waking up for, right?” the woman said with a laugh.
“Definitely. Move over coffee,” she said in her best commercial jingle voice, “Delanna has something better.”
The laughter died down, leaving Amy to wonder if she’d gone too far by using her first name.
“Well, it was a joy to speak with you this morning,” the woman said with a sigh. “We’ll see you in here later this week and have you fill out some additional paperwork then.”
“Sounds good. Thanks again.”
Amy pressed the button to end the call, then collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. Quiet took over, and soon the clock hanging on the other side of the wall gained the floor with its tinnytickand hollowtock.She should call her sister back, but all Amy wanted in that moment was Jace. She wanted to tell him about the exciting news from her job. And after that, she wanted to ask him all the questions running through her mind.
It dawned on her then, as she sat in the sunlit kitchen, dust speckles dancing aimlessly about, that she could play a part in putting the trafficking ring out of business.
The power of that realization made her chest rise. She imagined her insides, the parts that had been weathered and chipped, pictured a restoration taking place as she pulled in a deep breath of hope.
You could make a difference, Amy. Like Jace.
Jace, the one person who knew what she was going through. The one person who would face the darkness with her. It made her yearn for him all the more. She could hardly believe she’d been iffy about him moving into the guest room. The sooner he moved in the better.
She slid her thumb across the phone screen, ready to send Jace a text, and noticed a reminder had popped up:
Go check on Oreo.
That’s right.Mrs. Phillips would be gone another week or two, depending on how quickly the townhomes sold in the new subdivision in Aspen Park—a good three hours away. Thank heavens for phone reminders. Especially on days like this.
Amy rushed over to the patio door and shoved into her slippers. A good cup of coffee would put things right. She’d get on that as soon as she got back. She smoothed one hand over her hair as she twisted the knob, and started as a screaming alarm blared throughout the home.
“Alert,” came a computerized voice from behind, “station one. Alert, station one…”
Amy jammed the tips of her fingers into her ears as she looked from the door to an unfamiliar device standing beside her laptop on the breakfast bar.
It took a moment to realize it was an alarm system. What in the world?
She snatched her phone off the table and bolted out back, closing the door behind her to block out the sound. It didn’t help. The neighbors would be calling the police left and right. Well, the ones who hadn’t lost their hearing. Jace had teased her about living in a retirement community and, the fact was, most of her neighborswerescoring senior citizen discounts at Maddie’s Subs.
The cellphone began buzzing in her hand. Amy was about to send it to voicemail when she saw the name on the screen.
“Jace?” she hollered, bringing it to her ear.
“Is everything okay over there?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “Some voice is yelling at me from my kitchen because I opened the patio door.”
“Avoice?”
“Youarethe one who set up the alarm, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” A deep sigh followed. “Sorry. I wanted to tell you before you cracked open one of your doors. Go back inside. I mounted a control panel by the light switch. Type in the numbers4975and it will stop.”
Amy hurried back inside and spotted the panel. A quick tap of the numbers Jace indicated, and the screeching ceased. “Station one disarmed,”came the digital voice.
“Geez,” Amy grumbled. “A little warning might have been nice.”
“Yeah. I left a note by your coffee maker, but I guess you haven’t gotten that far yet,Grandma.”
She laughed against her will. Ifthinkingabout Jace offered comfort,talkingto him was even better. The weight of her ridiculous morning slid right off her back. “You left me a note?”
