Woman Without a Name by Emilie Richards

Author:Emilie Richards [Richards, Emilie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488025297
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2016-10-16T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

Celestine practiced lifting the roll of paper towels with her right hand. Pain shot through her arm and shoulder, but not enough to make her stop. She set the roll on the kitchen counter, then lifted it once more and let it swing to her hip. This time she lifted it with her arm perfectly straight until the roll was shoulder high.

She set it back on the counter and rested.

“Going all right?”

She hadn’t heard Noah come in. She turned to the door and shot him a tentative smile. “It feels good to be out of that sling and doing something to help myself.”

“Betty warned you not to overdo.”

“I’m not. I don’t want to reinjure myself. But I’m encouraged. I wasn’t sure how much damage Bobby had done.”

“She seems to think you’ll have full range of motion. But she told me again that you’ll need physical therapy to make sure of it.”

“That’s impossible. I’m just going to have to work at it by myself.”

“I suppose it’s tough scheduling appointments in your situation. One here. One wherever. One beyond wherever.” He shrugged.

“I don’t like running, Noah.” She leaned against the counter and watched as he opened the refrigerator and took out a canned drink.

“But you won’t let me do anything to help you.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

He popped the top and took a sip. This was the first time in the two days since he had found her by the stream that he had broached this subject again. He had left her strictly alone. Except for meals, they had scarcely even been in the same room.

She had spent the time resting and planning what she would do next. Whit had promised her that the money would be available today, and she knew that once she had it, she would have to decide exactly what she should do with it. The rest of his news had been more disturbing. He’d informed her that none of his inquiries had turned up a consultant working for Tri-C by the name of Noah James. He had promised to continue the investigation and warned her to be careful.

She knew that Whit could be wrong. He had admitted that Tri-C was a conglomerate with fingers in a wide variety of pies. Various enterprises under the Tri-C umbrella existed all over the globe. And Noah wouldn’t appear on the regular payroll. But Whit’s dead end hadn’t increased her sense of security.

She wasn’t sure what Noah had done with his time for the past two days. She’d often detected the telephone ringing and the soft purr of his computer during the long hours when she didn’t see him.

He had rarely left the cottage. Yesterday morning he had gone to visit Teddy. She only knew that because Marian had appeared that afternoon with a picture Teddy had drawn for him. She had seen the picture later, pinned up on his bedroom wall, a smudge of black and orange that only a parent could love. She had wanted to ask him about it; she had wanted to ask him about a great many things.

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