Bentley started in again. “Our next step, then, is to see if we can find this woman. Remember, people, one of our own is sitting in jail for a crime she didn’t commit. It’s up to us to find a way to prove her innocence.” She paused for a second before changing topics. “As for today’s agenda. There aren’t any authors scheduled for presentations this afternoon, but at the conclusion of today’s fashion show, each and every one of you is expected to dismantle your authors’ booths. Ms. Lambert has made it clear that this responsibility is not to be left for her people at Southern Belles Bridal Company.” She turned to Jude. “Do you have an up-to-date sales record for us?”
Jude opened his portfolio, extracted a sales sheet, and began reading the numbers. So far, it seemed nearly every author had sold twice as many books as expected. “A smashing success!” Bentley concluded. We continued to talk about the expo and then moved on to new business for a while, each of us giving a brief status on new proposals and prospective new clients before Bentley started wrapping up the meeting. “Before we adjourn, there’s one more item on the list.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I believe Vicky has something she’d like to announce.”
All eyes turned to Vicky, who slowly rose from her chair, brushed the creases from her skirt, and moved to the front of the room. My eyes slid toward the pup in question, who, ironically, had behaved perfectly during the whole meeting: no barking, scratching, not even a whimper. Vicky removed a tissue from the front pocket of her sweater, dabbed at her top lip and began with a shaky voice, “I regret announcing that I’ve turned in my resignation. Next Friday will be my last day. Thank you.”
“What!” The room exploded in protest as she made her way back to her chair. Everyone wanted to know the reason for her resignation and began pelting her with questions. I’d expected as much, of course. What I was curious about was Bentley’s reaction. To my amazement, she appeared stoic, almost immune to the buzz around her. I couldn’t fathom what must be going through her mind. I knew she cared for Vicky, just as much as the rest of us. And the business side of her certainly realized what an asset Vicky was to our literary team. Why, just last fall, Vicky was out sick for three days with a terrible cold and the place about fell apart! But Bentley remained silent, watching and listening, her face empty of any expression that might reveal her true emotions.
For the next few minutes, everyone continued to fire questions at Vicky, who remained tight-lipped about her reason for resigning. I was only half listening, though. Instead, I tilted my head and let my eyes wander to where Olive slept peacefully, curled in a brown and white lump in the corner of the room. As I watched, she shifted in her sleep, yawned, and licked her muzzle with a lazy swipe of her tongue. I sighed and wondered how something so little and so sweet-looking could cause so much trouble. I thought back to the chewed furniture, the scratched-up door, the constant barking and begging for attention. It was almost as if Olive needed a team of owners to take care of her. A team of owners? I sat up a little straighter. Maybe, just maybe it might work . . . My eyes darted between Vicky and Bentley, the beginning of an idea forming in my mind.
Chapter 19
I’d barely settled behind my desk before I heard my cell phone buzzing. I opened my drawer and dug into my bag, only the moment my fingertips connected to the phone, it quit ringing. I checked the display, expecting to see that Rufus had called with the name of the couple. Instead, I was surprised to see several missed calls from Trey, apparently coming in while I was in the meeting. I was about to call him back when Vicky burst into my office. Trey was on her heels, his work apron hanging below his winter jacket. What could have prompted him to leave in the middle of work? “Trey. What is it?”
“It’s Nana. I was at work when Oscar called. He’s was getting ready to take her to the hospital. Said she was real sick.”
Mama is sick again? “But she was doing fine last night. I was at her place until almost midnight.” I blinked, a dread crawling up my neck as I realized I hadn’t checked on her this morning. I’d been too busy, my mind on the case, and hadn’t even thought about . . . “Really, she was much better when I left.” My last statement sounded pathetic, neglectful, even to my own ears as an image of Mama in a hospital bed shot shivers up my back.
“You get going with Trey and check on her.” Vicky shooed me with her hands, her voice of reason cutting through the haze of confusion and guilt clogging my mind.
I nodded, snatching my purse and motioning for Trey to follow me out. “I’ll inform Ms. Duke immediately,” Vicky called after us. “But please call and let us know how Althea is doing. We’ll all be worried.”
*
WE MADE THE normally half-hour drive to Dunston in a mere twenty minutes. The lady managing the front desk took one look at our frazzled expressions and immediately directed us through the double sliding doors that led to the emergency room area, where we were about creamed by a gurney zipping past with a bloodied man.