“All that shopping yesterday,” Dakota suggested.
“I think it was the number of door handles I touched going in and out of stores.”
“Do you have clients today?”
“After one. I’m probably fine, just a head cold.”
“If you need anything just holler. I’ll send Walt over with a biological warfare suit and some Tylenol.”
Mary couldn’t help but laugh with the image that came to mind. “I’m guessing the old Dakota is coming back.” Dakota had always been a closet prepper. Someone who stocked enough food for four months and medical supplies for a year. During her pregnancy some of that waned.
“The old Dakota needed to remove the cast and the ten pounds of baby in her belly. Do you have any idea how good that first shower felt when I came home cast free?”
“You’ve already told me.” About a dozen times.
“Feel better. If you plan on staying home, give me a call so I know it’s you running around in your house.”
“I will. Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
Mary almost asked her not to say good-bye, but didn’t.
She took a nap around ten, had some hot soup for lunch, and left for the office at twelve thirty feeling marginally better.
Right as she pulled into the parking lot at work, her phone rang.
“I was wondering if I’d hear from you today.” The eight-hour time difference between her and Glen was not something she wanted to get used to.
“Meetings all day. Dinner with clients. How are you?”
Mary rubbed her forehead as if it was going to ease the ache inside. “I’m actually kinda sick.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah, think I picked up something shopping yesterday.”
“Poor baby. I hate being ill.”
“Don’t we all. And I’m about to go into the office so I’m going to have to cut this short.”
“You go. I just wanted to tell you I was thinking about you.”
She cradled the phone as she sat in her car talking on it. “I miss you, too.”
“I’ll be flying back Wednesday and flying out again on Friday to come see you.”
“I can’t wait. I should be better by then.”
“And Mary?”
“Yes?”
“I’m really glad you said yes to our first date.”
“I’m really glad you asked.”
He disconnected the call and she forgot about her headache.
“I have some good news.” Officer Taylor had left a message when she was with a client, and when she called him back, this was how he started the conversation.
“I’m listening.”
“We have a partial match from the prints we took off your office door to that inside your condo.”
“Which means that whoever was in my condo has been in my office.”
“And that is enough of a reason to find Jacob Golf and bring him in.”
Mary wrapped the bulk of her hair in her hand and tossed it behind her back. “I thought you were looking for Jacob already.”
“Sending a car to his residence and work when you called was the extent of our search. We’ll bring him in, see if we can get him to consent to fingerprints to see if they match.”
“If he’s guilty, he won’t consent.”
“Maybe he’ll say something that gives us the right to run him through the process. We’ll get the prints.”
Mary leaned the phone away from her mouth to cough. “This is good news.”
“You sound sick.”
“I am sick.”
“I’ll give you an update as soon as I have one.”
“Thanks, Officer Taylor.”
“You watch yourself, Miss Kildare. Once we heat things up, the guilty often get active.”
“I’m picking up my shotgun next week. The guy at the store said it’s the best for home defense.” She held the thing once, went through the motions of loading it for the sake of buying it, but still wasn’t sure she should have it.
“Shotguns do the job. Every woman in my family owns one.”
Somehow, she knew he’d say that. “We’ll talk soon.”
“Feel better, Miss Kildare.”
Mary barely made it through her last client before feeling like she was going to fall asleep on the drive home.
The lights in the parking lot did a fair job of lighting her route to her car. Not that she paid much attention to them.
Halfway around the building, she saw Kent walking her way.
“You’re off early.”
She coughed twice and lifted her hand holding her briefcase. “Finishing at home tonight.”
“You look a little pale.”
“Head cold,” she said, even though she knew it was more than that. She used the remote on her keychain to unlock the door of her car.
Kent shuffled around her to open her door.
She muttered a thanks and climbed inside. “You’re working late tonight.”
“I told you I’d walk you to your car. I keep my commitments.” Kent leaned in as he spoke.
Mary turned her head to cough. “I appreciate your help. But don’t let me put you out.” Her head was splitting.
“You’re not putting me out.”
She offered a weak smile. “I should get home.”
“Good night.”
Mary waved as she pulled away and counted the red lights on her way home.