Maggie's Place by Annette Haws

Author:Annette Haws
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2019-09-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

A Stray Puppy

Carly hid in the shadows, avoiding the streetlights as icy crystals from yesterday’s storm whipped down South Temple and felt like glass shards piercing her bare ankles. The Eagle Gate, lights glowing, stood across the plaza. She didn’t know if Bill worked at being tough or if he was just born nasty, but his sour breath lingered in the darkness as he snarled final instructions. “Don’t touch anything. Not a book of matches. Not a quarter under the couch. Not a cookie or a piece of cheese. Nothing that isn’t offered.” He shook her arm roughly as if to make his point clear. “They need to trust you. Don’t make them suspicious by doing something stupid.”

Wearing his long coat, Lemon nudged her other side and huffed into her ear, “Think of yourself as a stray dog. Better, a puppy. A hungry, pitiful, little motherless dog. Adorable, but needy. That’s what you are: needy. Can you do needy? No one likes a dog with an attitude. Those growling, flea-bitten mongrels. No one likes them. If you act like that, you’ll be out in the cold in a minute. And cough, but not too hard. You don’t want to scare them. Don’t act contagious for heaven’s sake. Cover your mouth when you sneeze.” Unlike Bill, Lemon didn’t seem worried. He seemed impatient—chiefly with her—but, on the whole, rather pleased with himself. His straggly pale hair fanned out in the wind. This plan he’d concocted was in play.

Pitiful. Hungry? She knew all about hungry, and her skin burned. Every joint and hair follicle ached. She was so dizzy all the streetlights had halos. When Bill poked her side, she groaned, “I hear you.”

“We’ll be watching,” he muttered. “Don’t blow this.” He shoved her toward the front entrance, and she limped across the plaza, a loose pebble cutting the ball of her foot—one of Lemon’s great ideas. She scratched at her neck as though she were wearing a collar and Bill was jerking on the leash. She had to get out of here. Leave. All she needed was a little money. Two bus tickets. One for her. One for Terry. That was all. Why didn’t she take that doctor up on his offer? Beg him for a ticket for Terry? Too late.

Pulling open the door against the wind took all her strength, but then it was quiet. Still. Muted silence. And warm. The vestibule was warm. She’d left the wind outside. Feeling lightheaded and weak, she leaned against the wall, her forehead touching the panel, and tried to breathe. Running her finger down the list of electronic names, she finally pressed the button next to M. Sullivan, and in a couple of seconds, she heard Maggie’s voice. “Yes?”

“Maggie,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, “It’s Caroline. I met you at the shop last week. I’m having trouble with my knitting.” She clutched her plastic sack in one hand. “Do you have time to help me?” Please say yes. Don’t send me back into the cold.

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