J. Jance - Cruel Intent

“Good sharing,” Haley told her son. To Ali, she added, “He likes having company.”

“He’s adorable,” Ali said. “What’s his name.”

“Liam,” Haley answered. “After my grandfather.”

Not after his father, Ali thought. She couldn’t help wondering how this clearly African-American child would go about explaining his very Irish first name as he grew up. And was the fact that Haley had been expecting a mixed-race child part of why she and her grandmother had pulled up stakes and moved to Arizona?

“I’m here on behalf of the Amelia Dougherty Askins Scholarship fund,” Ali explained. “The first Askins Scholarship was given to me years ago, when I was a senior in high school, and it made all the difference. My parents own the Sugarloaf Café in Sedona. At that point they had a viable business but not much money. Without the scholarship, I wouldn’t have been able to go on to college; with it, I could and did. They say what goes around comes around. Now I’ve been put in charge of distributing the scholarship that was so helpful to me.

“You’ve been brought to our attention as an especially deserving student. I wanted to have an opportunity to talk to you about it. I wanted to see if your receiving a scholarship from us would help you go on to college.”

“With him here and getting into everything, it’s hard enough just going to high school,” Haley said. “How could I possibly go on to college?”

“But you’d like to?” Ali pressed.

“I suppose so,” Haley admitted a little wistfully. “But I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“What were you planning to do instead?” Ali asked.

“Work,” Haley answered. “My manager at Target promised me a full-time position once I graduate. All I want to do is earn enough so Liam and I can rent a place of our own. Give Grandma a little peace and quiet for a change. She already raised me. It’s not fair that she’s having to raise him, too.”

“If you could do anything you wanted, what kind of work would you choose?” Ali asked.

“I suppose I’d be a nurse,” Haley said without hesitation. “I’d also like to be Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. The chances of that happening aren’t very good, either. For now all I want is to graduate from high school and for Liam and me to be on our own.”

“But if someone would help you,” Ali began. “If someone offered to help pay your way-”

Liam came back over to his mother, scrambled up into her lap, and cuddled up against her breast. Ali knew that, as a general rule, it was a bad idea for babies to have babies, but clearly, Haley Marsh was a good mother-an exceptionally good mother.

“If you had a better education, there’d be more opportunities for Liam,” Ali said. “And more opportunities for you, too.”

Suddenly, Haley’s bright blue eyes sparked in anger. “You don’t know that,” she declared hotly. “You don’t know anything about us. You don’t get to come in here with your fancy checkbook and think that gives you the right to judge us or tell us what we should do or shouldn’t do.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Yes, you did,” Haley interrupted. “But this is my baby. I had him on my own, and I’m raising him on my own. Grandma’s been wonderful to us. I don’t know how we would have made it without her. But I’ll be eighteen in May. It’s not fair to ask her to do any more. It’s time for us to move out and be on our own. I can’t do that and go to school, too. So thanks for the scholarship offer, but no thanks.”

It wasn’t quite the response Ali had expected. She had thought Haley would be as thrilled as Ali herself had been to learn she was even under consideration for a possible scholarship. She never expected that her offer would be turned down cold.

“This is important. Before you decide, shouldn’t you at least discuss it with your grandmother?” Ali asked. “Yes, if you go on to school, it may take a few years longer for you and Liam to be out on your own, but obviously, your grandmother loves you very much. Surely she wouldn’t mind-”

“No,” Haley insisted. “I don’t want it. We’ll be fine. Give it to someone else.”

“But-”

“I’m not going to ask her,” Haley said. “My grandmother looks after Liam while I’m at school, and then she works from four o’clock in the afternoon until midnight. She can’t go on working that hard forever. It’s bad enough that she’s doing it while I’m in high school. I couldn’t ask her to do the same thing so I can go to college. I can’t and I won’t. She’s done enough for us already. Now go, please. I’ve got homework to do.”

“Won’t you please reconsider?” Ali asked.

Haley was having none of it. “Thank you but no thanks,” she said. “I appreciate the offer.”

Rebuffed, Ali stood up and held out the toy truck. Liam scrambled out of his mother’s lap and dashed over to collect it. As Ali made her way to the door, she opened her purse and pulled out a business card, which she handed over to Haley. “Given the cost of tuition, books, and room and board, the scholarship could turn out to be a substantial amount of money over the next several years,” she said. “If you happen to change your mind…”

Haley took the card and then dropped it on a nearby end table. “Right,” she said. “I’ll let you know.”

Moments later, feeling as though she’d been given the bum’s rush, Ali found herself in the yard outside.

What kind of a salesman does that make me? she wondered. I can’t even give money away.

With both Ricky Farraday and Haley Marsh officially out of the running, Marissa Dvorak was the only remaining candidate for that year’s scholarship. Ali’s appointment with Marissa was scheduled for tomorrow. In the meantime, awash in a sense of failure, she headed back to Sedona. She couldn’t help but contrast the ecstatic, grateful way she had felt when Anna Lee Ashcroft had told Ali about her scholarship with the way Haley Marsh had received similar news.

Ali picked up the phone and dialed Leland’s number. “How’d it go?” he asked.

“Not well,” Ali told him. “Haley Marsh told me to take my scholarship and shove it, then she threw me out of the house.”

“She wasn’t interested?”

“You could say so. She was vehemently not interested. Not interested in going on to school and not interested in receiving a scholarship.”

“That wasn’t the impression I got from speaking with her grandmother,” Leland replied. “It sounded as though she was interested in Haley continuing on to university.”

“You talked to Nelda Harris about the scholarship?” Ali asked.

“Only in the most general terms,” Leland replied. “I led her to believe Haley was being considered for some kind of academic award, but I didn’t mention the scholarship per se.”

“Then grandmother and granddaughter need to get on the same page,” Ali told him. “At this rate, we’ll be lucky if we award an Askins Scholarship this year.”

“Don’t be discouraged,” Leland counseled. “There’s always Marissa Dvorak.”

“She’ll probably throw me out, too,” Ali said despairingly. “What’s happening on your end?”

“Bryan Forester came by and dropped off another load of wallboard,” Leland said. “Dropped it off and unloaded it, too. The crew had run out of materials and gone home.”

“He unloaded it by himself?” Ali asked. “That stuff is heavy.”

“By himself,” Leland confirmed. “And I can understand where he’s coming from. Mr. Forester strikes me as a man of action. Doing some hard physical labor probably did him a world of good. Maybe he’ll be tired enough to sleep. I doubt he did last night.”