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Twenty-Eight
On paper,Maggie Carlyle was a risk. Twenty-eight years old, and she’d had more than a dozen jobs in a decade. Not just different jobs, but different addresses all over the country. She’d worked at a toy store in Boise, Idaho, and a shoe store in Miami, Florida. She’d been a housekeeper in Sacramento, and a seamstress in Austin. Her job ranged from the banal to the unique.
Still, something in my gut told me to bring her in, and after talking to her for the past ten minutes, I was glad I had. She was energetic and sweet, willing to work hard. Her references were glowing, despite the fact that she’d never worked any place longer than seven or eight months.
“One final question,” I said as I put down my pen. “And I’m sure you already know what I’m going to ask.”
Her smile faltered a bit, and the light in her eyes dimmed, but she squared her shoulders and nodded. “I do, and I understand why you need to know. I’ve moved around a lot, had tons of different jobs. I know how it looks, like I’m not reliable. I won’t lie and say that I plan to be here for years, but I can promise that I will show up on time, and I won’t leave early. I rarely call off, and I always work hard.”
She paused, and I knew she was waiting for me to tell her none of that mattered. Instead, I made a gesture for her to continue.
“I didn’t have a stable childhood, but I’ve always wanted to find a home.” Her fair complexion flooded with color, but she didn’t flinch. “After I graduated high school, I didn’t really have anywhere to live, so I got on a bus and left. I tried different places, but nothing ever…stuck.”
I wanted to reach across the desk and tell her that I understood, but I wasn’t looking for a friend. I needed an employee first. I didn’t think she’d take advantage of me if I was more friendly than professional, but as I’d proven recently, I wasn’t the best judge of character when it came to people I hadn’t known long.
“I’ve never left an employer in the lurch,” she continued. “If I’m going to leave, I’ll tell you and give you as much time as you need to find someone to take my place.”
I had the strangest sense of déjà vu as I looked at her, but it wasn’t because I’d been in this position before. I’d been her only a few months ago. A stranger in the city, looking for a job after having moved around because nowhere felt like home.
“I’d like to see if this would work for us,” I said with a smile. “Can you start first thing Monday morning?”
Her entire face lit up. “I can. Thank you, Miss Quick. Thank you.”
“You can call me Rona,” I said.
Before I could move anywhere past that, the front door opened. Shit. I’d forgotten to turn over the sign to say that we were closed. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and the weather was shitty, so I hadn’t expected anyone to come by.
“Hello?”
“I’ll be right out,” I called before turning back to Maggie. “Monday, eight o’clock.”
She stood and shook my hand. “I’ll see you then.”
I followed her out of the office, turning my attention to the tall, burly man brushing snow off his massive beard. “I’m Rona Quick.” I put out my hand. “How can I help you?”
“I’m Dave Orville.” His hand engulfed mine, but he was careful not to squeeze too hard. “My Suzie’s missing.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. I motioned to my office.
“I don’t need much of your time, miss,” he said, shifting from one foot to the other. “I just need to know if I can hire you to find my Suzie.”
“I’m often hired to find people.” If he didn’t want to sit, that was fine with me. “Do you have a picture of Suzie?”
The best thing about smartphones was that most people had at least one picture on it of whoever it was they wanted me to find. Sure enough, he held out his phone with a picture pulled up on it.
Suzie was a cocker spaniel.
I bit back the sigh that wanted to escape me and smiled up at him. “When did you last see Suzie?”
* * *
I shiveredand pulled my coat more closely around me. I was crazy for taking this case, but Dave had been sincerely upset that he hadn’t been able to find his little dog after she slipped off her leash during their morning walk, and there was something about seeing a man like him so distraught over his dog that had made me want to help him.
Besides, if I hadn’t taken his case, I would’ve gone back to staring at that stupid email I couldn’t get through while trying not to think about Jalen.
“Suzie,” I called as I walked down the street.
I doubted that calling the dog would do much good since she didn’t know me, but I felt pretty foolish walking with a dog leash in one hand and a treat in the other. Calling for a dog at least made it clear I was searching. If someone had found her and they heard me calling, they’d know to bring her to me.
