“Dammit, Arielle, it has nothing to do with us.” He stops because he knows there’s no ‘us’. “I’m just looking out for you. It’s my duty…to take care of my partner’s wife.” Although his voice is gentle, the fact that he refers to me as Steve’s wife sends a firm message. I shouldn’t be thinking about other men.
Except him, of course.
“Just don’t be naive, okay, Arielle? We both know that kind of money doesn’t just fall out of the sky. There’s usually some kind of funny business attached.”
“So, you’re telling me to suspect him of something underhanded, even though you have no idea what it might be, just because you don’t know how he made his money?” There’s an accusatory tone in my voice. I know Tim’s not attacking Sam personally, but I feel the need to defend him in his absence. “We live in Vegas, Tim, maybe he’s a punter…a high-stakes gambler? It wouldn’t be unheard of.” I can see from his expression that it hadn’t occurred to him, but he doesn’t like it. Come to think of it, Ihadnoticed some strange gambling memorabilia around his place. It’s starting to form a picture for me. “And who cares if he is? That doesn’t make him dangerous.”
“Maybe not dangerous, but definitely suspicious,” Tim says. “And his ‘manager’,” he raises his hands to put air quotes around the word, “isn’t all that upstanding either. Cory Smith has been accused of several counts of sex with a minor.” I open my mouth to argue, but Tim cuts me off. “Maybe you’re not a target here, being a grown woman, but good guys don’t go around seducing underage girls.”
“Why did you call Cory a ‘manager’?” I ask, mimicking Tim’s air quotes.
“Because Samuel Foster’s occupation is listed as Gentleman of Leisure. And it seems highly unlikely that a guy who doesn’t work needs a manager. It also makes me wonder what he does on all of these ‘business trips’ he takes.” There are the air quotes again.
I will admit, something’s not adding up. But I can’t reconcile this guy with the man I’ve come to know as Munchkin’s owner. I take a deep breath. I’m surprised to find that I’m a bit worked up.
“Okay, you might have a point. It does sound fishy. But I’m not convinced that he’s someone I should be worried about. And even if he is, it’s not like I’m doing anything unlawful by feeding his cat.”
“Unless you’re being paid with money that he earned on some illegal gambling circuit,” Tim says.
Crap, I hadn’t thought of that. “Can’t I claim ignorance?”
“Maybe. But if that works, it only works for the two cheques you’ve already deposited. If you take any more money from him, that argument won’t hold up.”
I nod, even though he’d be the one who shattered any hope I had of pleading innocence. “Okay. But there’s still a lonely cat who’s expecting me to feed him tonight. I’m not going to abandon him because you don’t trust his owner.”
“Arielle, you’re not—”
I cut him off. “You said it yourself. I’m not in any danger. Especially since Samuel and Cory are in Europe right now.” I put on my stern face, not mentioning that Sam’s told me he’ll be back tomorrow. “I’m not going to leave an innocent animal to starve. I’ll discuss this with Sam as soon as he’s back in town and we’ll sort all of this out. If he’s involved in anything dodgy, I’ll stop working for him.”
Tim holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I know when I’m beat.” He looks at me gravely. “Just promise me that you’ll be careful. And that you’ll call if something doesn’t feel right.”
“I promise.”
Despite the conversation, I just can’t believe that Sam is a bad guy. As I drive to his house that afternoon, I go over all of the conversations we’ve had, all the times he’s told me how much his cat means to him. How well taken care of Munchkin is. The flowers he sent me. The phone call that night… It still makes my heart beat faster.
Intellectually I know that criminals can be caring people, and that his actions don’t automatically preclude him from breaking the law. But my intuition tells me he’s a good guy…special even. I feel confident that once we can all sit down and talk the air will be cleared.
Munchkin is waiting for me in his usual spot. “Your dad is a good man,” I tell him. Even though he has no idea what I’m talking about, the cat gives me an affirmative meow. I push the thoughts to the back of my mind as I turn my attention on my charge. “What are we going to do today? How about I load up the treat ball?” Munchkin perks his ears at the mention of treats. “I thought you’d like the sound of that,” I say with a smile and make my way to the kitchen.
Chapter 18
Arielle
Samuel Foster
The plane touches down and I feel my spirits soar. It’s not just because I’m back safe, though there’s certainly that – for a while, I truly feared for my life. But right now, I’m eager to collect my bags and get home. Home to my Munchkin…and more.
Home to Arielle.
A couple of hours earlier we’d texted again. She’ll be there to greet me when I return. I’d been afraid to broach the topic, but I couldn’t resist suggesting that she wait for me at the house. I kept the conversation light.
See you at home later. I think it’s time to put a face to the name,I’d said.
Great idea,she’d replied, just as casually.
My mind is spinning in circles, wondering what she’ll look like. Her profile picture on her phone is a photo of sunflowers and some kid’s feet.Dammit, why do people do that?God, I hope she’s not ugly. Does that make me shallow? Probably.
Deep down, a part of me doesn’t care. I can sense the size of the heart that beats in her…it’s huge, and that’s what matters. Besides, Atticus was no oil painting and he made me the happiest kid on the planet.
