Not This Time (13 page)

Beth pumped up the group to open their wallets, praying the phone wouldn’t ring. Afterward, she fielded and sidestepped a few questions about Robert and then talked with Darla Green. Stunning in red, she wore her hair darker, short and jet black, and her bright green eyes gleamed.

“You need some good news.” Darla hooked their arms and led her to a quiet corner. “When you talk to Sara, tell her she can have the property on Airport Road. I know she wants it. I’ll even contribute a hundred thousand dollars toward a building. That will motivate her to get well.”

“It will.” Beth smiled. “She’ll be thrilled, Darla. Thank you.”

“Glad to do it.” Worry creased her arched brow. “Anything new on her condition?”

“Still in ICU, but Jeff checked on our way over. She’s stabilizing.”

“That’s good news.”

“Every minute she breathes is good news.”

Darla clasped Beth’s hands. “She’s lucky to have you for a friend, Beth. We should all be so blessed.”

Clearly she was thinking about her son, Lance, shunning her. “Things work out. Keep hoping.”

“I’m beyond hope for myself. Too many skeletons.” Sadness flickered in her eyes. “But I’ll hope for Sara.”

“No one is skeleton free. You only lose if you give up. Keep hoping anyway.”

“No sense in it. Not for me.”

“Darla Green. I never pegged you as a coward.”

Darla sobered, her lips drawing tight. “Excuse me?”

“Hope when you have reason to hope is easy. It’s when you can’t see a reason and hope anyway—”

Darla’s expression softened and her eyes misted. “I hear you, but I’m beyond that too. I’ve made too many mistakes.”

“Need a superhero, huh?”

Darla laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “At least a superhero.”

Beth clasped her arm. “I’ll lend you mine.”

“Joe? Honey, you’re crazy. I’d never lend him to any woman.”

Joe. Everyone came back to Joe. Mr. Unreachable. He wasn’t even hers to lend. “I was talking about God.”

She sputtered. “Trust me, hon. God doesn’t want me.”

“He already has you. He’s just waiting for you to remember it and welcome Him,” Beth countered. “But enough said. Some things you have to realize on your own.”

“Pray for that then, will you? Because after all I’ve done, I can’t see God ever being anything but disgusted with me.”

“You’re wrong about that, and I will pray for you.” Beth gave Darla’s arm a pat. She was thawing. Opening up to the idea. Maybe eventually she’d open up to Him.

“Just encourage her as you have been. Ultimately, it’s her choice.”

Free will. I’m not exactly a shining example
. Her feelings about Robert proved it.
I’d hate to fall short and disappoint You or mess up her chances for finding You
.

“You’re My choice.”

Beth smiled. Loved. Warts and all.

“Beth, do you really think a person can’t get past the point of redemption?” Darla asked.

“I know it.” Through Christ all things are possible.

“Interesting. I’ll have to muddle on that.” Darla blinked hard. “I don’t believe I’ve ever thanked you for supporting me—during the hard times. I know it wasn’t easy. John was beloved here, and … and …”

“You’ve done a lot of good here too, Darla. Don’t forget that. There weren’t many who believed you would do … what they said you did.” Killing John? It was absurd. He adored Darla and she adored him.

“Very few thought I was smart enough to kill John.” She shrugged, and a whiff of her cologne breezed Beth’s way. “It’s okay. I know most of the villagers think I’m an airhead.”

“You’re not an airhead.”

“I know, but they believe I am. Anyway, I appreciate your kindnesses. They helped me through some dark days.”

“Those days are behind you now.”

“Yes.” Darla sniffed. “Now, have you reached Sara’s fund-raising goal?”

“Not yet.” Beth hated to admit it, but Sara would get the money even if Beth had to cover it herself.

“How much more do you need?”

“Five hundred thousand or so.”

Darla tapped her cheek with her fingertip. “Well, I’d better get busy then. You know, I’m pretty good at fund-raising. I did it for John every campaign.”

She still missed him, and likely the social life that came with his office. “You were a great Mrs. Mayor.”

“I enjoyed it.” Darla lifted her chin. “Don’t worry. I’ll get Sara her money. I know everyone’s secrets—and they know I know them.” She wiggled her eyebrows, then laughed. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I won’t blackmail anyone. I’ll charm them.”

Relieved, Beth seized the opportunity. “Work on Ben Nelson about financing the construction on the mom apartments?”

“Already done, dear. Miranda Kent and I visited him at the bank yesterday morning. If you or Sara will stand behind the loan, he’ll do it.”

Beth had no idea what Sara would or could do. Robert had been playing some bizarre financial games that worried the SaBe accountants. But Beth did know her own position. “What’s the projected cost?”

“Seven million, more or less. Mark Taylor told Sara cottages would be safer than a traditional apartment building, but either way she goes, seven should cover costs.” Darla hiked her brows. “Reduced, of course, by however much I can wrangle out of these stuffed shirts.”

Seven million was a lot of money. Butterflies swarmed in Beth’s stomach. “I’m in.”

“Then I’d best get busy.”

Some of the tension lifted from Beth’s shoulders. “I appreciate it, Darla.”

“It’s a good cause,” she said with a little grin.

“Good for the soul too,” Beth said as Darla stepped away.

Nathara tapped Beth’s arm. “Don’t you love it when the two go hand in hand?”

“Excuse me?”

“Soul work and good causes. When they come together.”

She’d overheard their conversation. “Yes, I do.” Even Nathara had left her
mean streak at home tonight.
Thank You!
“Glad you could come. How’s Nora doing?”

“She’s fine. Finally dozed off just before I left. Annie’s fluttering around, making sure no one disturbs her, and that Mark is like a personal bodyguard.”

Envy etched into Nathara’s tone. It didn’t look good on anyone, but it seemed doubly odd coming from a woman who looked so much like Nora. Identical twins could be so different. “They love her and she’s mourning. She and Clyde were inseparable.”

“They’re separate now.” Nathara cocked her head. “Darla’s an excellent ally, but I have to say I’m surprised you associate, considering she was jailed for her husband’s murder.”

“She was found innocent, Nathara.” Beth put a bite in her tone.

“After she was convicted, little one. Everyone knows her partner took the blame.” Nathara grunted, leaned closer. “Bet that set her back a pretty penny.”

Anger roiled in Beth. She paused a second to let it pass. “Can you prove that?”

“No need. Common sense says nothing else could have happened.”

“Without proof, we’ll have to agree to disagree on that.” Beth sent Nathara a frosty smile. “If you’ll excuse me.” Beth had to get outside away from Nathara or her head would explode. Some villagers speculated that what Nathara suspected was exactly what had happened, Hank among them. But there wasn’t any proof of it. Going around saying horrible things about someone without proof was just wrong. And it wasn’t lost on Beth that if things ended badly with Robert, she could be next in line as a victim of sharp tongues.

Beth slipped through the french doors onto a terrace that overlooked a Mardi Gras fountain. From beneath the water’s surface, gold, green, and purple lights shone up on the cascading water. The night air was calm, and quiet surrounded her. Nora was right about her coming. The ground gained for the moms would make Sara happy. Beth breathed in deeply, satisfied, and listened to the frogs croak.

“Don’t turn around,” a man said from behind her.

Startled, Beth stiffened. Her heart pounded a rapid tattoo and the hairs on her neck stood on end.

“I have a message for you.”

Beth didn’t utter a sound. His voice didn’t sound threatening; his tone was actually gentle, and though she should be terrified, for some reason she wasn’t.
He could be NINA. Robert’s kidnapper
.

“Are you listening?” he whispered close to her ear.

His breath warm on her neck, she nodded.

“Sara has been to the hospital three times in the last six months.”

True, but not what Beth had expected. “Yes?”

“Not for asthma or mild attacks.”

He was wrong about that. Beth instinctively started to turn to tell him so and to ask his purpose for passing this message to her. Who was he? What was this about?

He grabbed her shoulders, held her firmly in place. “Not for asthma or mild attacks.”

She didn’t understand. His words were clear, but his message wasn’t. “What are you telling me?”

“Sara’s in deep trouble. She needs your help.”

Her cryptic messages to protect herself from Sara … to protect Sara from herself, if Beth could … Sara’s odd reactions to the club attack … her wanting to go back to a time before Robert … What was really happening here? Did Sara’s trouble tie to Robert’s abduction? Did it tie to the club attack? Beth fisted her hands at her sides. “Then what put her in the hospital?” Each of the three times, she’d told Beth it was a mild attack.

“Find out.” He uttered a throaty growl, released his grip on her shoulders.

She waited but he added nothing else, his body heat at her back disappeared, and then the scent of his cologne faded. He was gone. She knew it, yet her knees shook so badly she couldn’t make herself turn around to verify it.

A long minute later, a man called out to her. “Beth?”

Jeff
. Had he seen the messenger? He walked across the stones toward her, skirting decorative urns overflowing with lush blossoms. “Yes?”

He searched her face. “Are you all right?”

Worried sick about Sara’s health, terrified she’d mess up and get Robert killed, being treated with suspicion and watched by Jeff and Kyle and virtually all of Robert’s friends, and now a strange man scared her with yet another cryptic message that Sara was in trouble and needed help—no, Beth wasn’t all right. She was anything but all right. “I’m fine.” What was the point in saying anything else when the man asking considered her suspect? If Joe had asked … No point going there. For reasons only known to him, he couldn’t be here. “Did you see a man standing behind me?”

“No, just you.” Jeff scanned the terrace. “Is something wrong?”

Keep your mouth shut. It’s amazing how twisted up things get
. She couldn’t share what had happened. The messenger could have been a crackpot. If she sent Jeff on a wild-goose chase, it could wreck what was left of her credibility. Nora and Joe’s warning echoed in her mind yet again. These were Robert’s friends. Their distaste for each other was their main topic of conversation. Besides, there was something going on with Sara that she didn’t want even Beth to know. Revealing that to Jeff would be betrayal.

“Everything’s fine.”
Someone
needed to know about this. Someone … Peggy. Beth could tell Peggy Crane. The director of Crossroads Crisis Center could be trusted with anything.

“Can we leave now?” Jeff tried not to sound hopeful.

He felt as uncomfortable as Beth in this group. “Yes.” She turned for the french doors. “Just need to do the fare well tour, then we can go.”

She said her good-byes, thanked Darla again, and then went to the car. Who was the messenger? What had he meant? And what drove him to tell Beth about Sara?

No way could Beth dismiss it. He’d been blunt, not cryptic. Sara was in deep trouble and needed help.

What kind of trouble? With whom? And if not mild attacks, then what had sent her to the hospital three times this year?

And what kind of friend was Beth that she didn’t know?

Half an hour later, Beth was back in her own clothes and sitting on Sara’s beautiful-but-comfortable-as-a-concrete-slab sofa, tuning out the activity buzzing around her. Men and electronics were everywhere. She checked with Peggy and Harvey at Sacred Heart—no change on Sara—then called Nora with a fund-raiser update. Beth debated telling her about the terrace messenger, but she’d had enough shocks. Beth hadn’t told Peggy either. To talk to either of them about it, Beth needed privacy and she just didn’t have it.