“While you were asleep. The new head of R&D called. Lt. Gen. Whitaker. I have to give him my answer tomorrow morning.” He paused. “I think I should accept.”
“No,” she said softly, horror shimmering like spiders down her arms, spine, legs. “Peter—no.”
“They made clear that I could dictate some of my working conditions. I’ll insist that someone else do the spellcasting. I’ll say it makes me tired.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “You know that’s not my objection!”
He nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor.
“You left for a reason, and that reason hasn’t changed,” she said.
“But other circumstances have.”
“Peter, they waited until now to make the offer because they understood you’d be desperate! I’m sure theyknewwe got the bills yesterday—it can’t be a coincidence that they called this morning—but we’ll figure out another way.”
“I’m very worried, but I am not yet desperate,” he said. “I’ll tell you when true desperation hits, and that’s when we’ve lost your house, we’re kicked out of this place and neither of us can get a job because we’re too quote-unquote radical or simply too much of a distraction for any employer.”
He let that sink in. “There’s a very real risk that if I turn them down tomorrow, they’ll wait until we actuallyaredesperate to take me back,” he added. “It would serve their purposes. It would thoroughly kill any chance your sister has to get her efforts back on track. Or—consider this—they’ll find someone else and no second offer will come.”
She swallowed a sob and lifted her chin. “We need an attorney. Somebody sharp to negotiate with the hospital. Wedon’t know our options—we don’t even know if these bills are reasonable.”
He pressed his lips together and turned away, clearly thinking it through. “OK,” he said after a minute. “If we can get a lawyer on the phone today who feels strongly that we can save your house and substantially lower the amount owed, then I’m willing to roll the dice and tell the Pentagram no. But it has to be today.”
She looked at her watch. Twenty minutes to eleven. “All right,” she said, knowing the odds were against them. “Drive to the college—they have specialty directories in their library, and there might be one for lawyers. In the meantime I’ll call everyone in the phone book.”
Three minutes later, she rushed into the general store with the book under one arm and the bills tucked in her coat pocket.
“Mayor,” she said to Croft, who’d looked up at the tinkling bell, “could I possibly use your office telephone? Our phone?—”
“Sure, of course,” he said, not waiting for her explanation about how her phone was having “issues,” which was just as well because the issue was a government tap.
“Thank you,” she said, grateful to him—for his easy kind-heartedness and for smiling at her as if yesterday’s revelations didn’t matter to him. Though it was certainly possible he hadn’t heard yet. “I’m afraid it might be a while…”
“Not a problem. Take as long as you need. Beatrix,” he added as she turned toward the office. “I just want you toknow that I’ve registered a complaint with Senator Gray. He abstained on his own darn bill! For gosh sakes, what does a private agreement between a man and his wife have to do with typic rights? And if the omnimancerdidn’tintend to get your input on important matters, he’d be a danged idiot. Do you know what I mean?”
She nodded, surprised and touched. Gray had called her a radical, but no one would make that case about Croft.
“Well, that’s all I wanted to say.” He gave a sheepish smile. “Please excuse my language.”
She almost managed a laugh at the idea that “gosh” and “danged” was language requiring an apology. “Thank you, Mayor. It means a lot to?—”
A crash that sounded like at least a dozen cans tumbling to the floor rang out from the back. Croft squeezed his eyes shut.“Billy,” he muttered under his breath, making his nephew’s name sound more like an expletive than any of his actual stabs at curse words.
“Can I help?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Happens at least once a day. Go on, make your calls.”
“Thank you again,” she said, patting his arm, and went off to the office.
She phoned every attorney in the book, each time getting the same response. No, he was not available. No, he would not be able to return a call that day. No, not even for an emergency. Would she still like to leave a message?
When she reemerged, Croft was somewhere amid the shelves, talking to a customer. She left him a note of thanksand slipped out, hoping Peter would have more luck. But he was already back at the house, and his expression said it all. They trudged to the bedroom and he handed over a sheet of paper with the contact information for five men. Beside each he’d written an X.
“These are the Maryland and D.C. lawyers who specialize in hospital bills,” he said. “But?—”
“Let me guess: No one could speak to you today.”
He nodded.
