Nan Dixon - To Catch A Thief

“There.” She handed his phone back to him.

“Let’s try it.” He wasn’t stupid. She could have put in a fake number.

A phone rang in her purse. She pulled it out, shut off the ringer and created a contact. “I really have to get back to my mother.”

“Thank you for helping with my headache.” He grinned. “If I call tonight, would that be too soon?”

“I’d...like that.” She laughed as she walked away.

He waited until she’d stepped into the parking lot, then pumped both fists. “Yes!”

“What was that for?” Kaden’s voice came from behind him.

“I just met the most gorgeous woman.” Sage steadied himself before he pushed up from the table. “And got her number.”

Kaden shook his head. “A guest?”

“Nope. She applied for a job.” And if she got the job, he planned to spend a lot more time with Kaden. Excellent. He’d keep his partner happy—and maybe himself, too.

* * *

I’M A THIEF! What had she been thinking?

Carolina parked in their driveway and wanted to pound her head on the steering wheel.

Not only was she a thief, she’d touched a stranger. Just started rubbing his head. Sage must think she was the stupidest, most forward, craziest woman in the world.

It’s just—he’d been hurting. His headache had been so much like her mother’s, she hadn’t been able to stand by and let it eat at him. Even though he’d said it wasn’t her fault, it had been. If she’d paid attention, she wouldn’t have made him fall.

Worst of all, because she’d been so flustered, she’d walked away with the bird. She’d planned to stop in the B and B and return the darn cardinal.

But Sage had started flirting and she’d forgotten. A small zing had her straightening her shoulders. Would he call? Did she want him to? Time was her enemy—she didn’t have any to spare.

Shoving her hair off her face, she caught a whiff of something delicious. She sniffed her hand. Chocolate and citrus. Sage’s scent. Was this his shampoo? She’d had her fingers buried in his thick, gold-streaked brown hair. And his eyes matched his name—a sage-green filled with so much pain she’d needed to ease his distress.

She stared at her mother’s house. It was time to do the same for Mamá.

The door was unlocked so she pushed inside and set her purse on the coffee table. “You forgot to lock the door, Mamá.”

Her mother came out of the dark kitchen and stumbled, grabbing the archway. “What did you bring me?”

Carolina shouldn’t.

“You brought me something, right?” Her mother touched her hand to her temple and closed her eyes. “Nothing?”

Carolina didn’t answer her mother’s question. “Do you have a headache?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Her mother clutched at the doorway, as if she couldn’t stand. “My happiness doesn’t matter. My pain doesn’t matter.”

“Mamá. It does.” Carolina helped her to the sofa. “Would you like to sit outside and watch the sunset?”

“No.” A tear slipped down her mother’s cheek as she curled her legs under her.

She massaged her mother’s shoulders but Mamá pushed her hands away.

“I just wanted a token,” her mother whispered.

Would it hurt to give her the cardinal? Carolina twisted her hands. How many more days did she have with her mother? The headaches were getting worse.

She knelt in front of her mother and dug into her purse. “It was in the front parlor.”

Her mother’s eyes went wide. She turned the bird over. “How much is it worth?”

“Worth?”

“Yes!” Animation filled her mother’s face. “A lot?”

“I don’t think so.” Was that what this was about? Money?

“Maybe I should have it appraised.” Her mother turned the small bird over and over, then hugged it to her chest.

“They wouldn’t leave valuable things just sitting on a windowsill.”

“Of course they would.” Mamá’s eyes narrowed. “They’re greedy and selfish.”

“There were three other birds.”

“Why didn’t you take them all?” Rosa’s voice was as discordant as an out-of-tune piano.

“I couldn’t. I...wasn’t alone that long.”

“Next time.” Mamá admired the bird.

There wouldn’t be a next time. Carolina would ramp up her job search on the island. She wouldn’t steal for her mother again.

CHAPTER FOUR

“MAMÁ, ARE YOU HUNGRY?” Carolina asked two nights later from the kitchen entryway.

Her mother plucked at the pleat in her pants, staring out into the distance.

“Mamá?” Carolina hurried to her side.

She knelt, trying to look her mother in the eye. “Talk to me.”

Mamá stared right through her. No response.

This wasn’t normal. She pulled out her phone. Blank screen. Damn it. She’d forgotten to the charge the battery after Sage had called that afternoon.

“I’ll be right back.” She dashed to her bedroom for her charging cord. On the way back downstairs, she heard a thump. “Mamá?”

Her mother lay facedown on the floor.

“No!” She ran and rolled her mother over.

Rosa shook so hard, her head banged the floor.

Seizure. Dr. Laster said this could happen and had given Carolina some basic first aid.

She pulled a pillow off the sofa and tucked it under her mother’s head. “Mamá, I’m here.”

What else?

Check the time. 7:32.

Stay calm. Carolina’s breaths heaved in and out. She forced them to slow.

Make sure she can breathe. How? She closed her eyes. What had the pamphlet said?

Turn her on her side. Shoving her hands under her mother’s convulsing body, she rolled her. Then readjusted the pillow.

Snatching up her mother’s cell phone, she punched in 9-1-1. “It’s my mother,” she cried, interrupting the operator. “She’s having a seizure.”

“Is she safe?” The woman’s voice was so calm.

“I guess.” How could she be safe if this was happening?

“Is she still seizing?”

“Yes. Maybe not as bad as before. She has brain tumors. Cancer.” The words spilled out of her, along with tears.

“How long has she been seizing?”

Carolina checked the clock: 7:36. “Four or five minutes?”

“Paramedics are on their way.” The operator confirmed the address.

Her mother’s body stopped jerking.

Carolina pulled a throw from the sofa and covered her, and then clasped her mother’s clammy hand. “Mamá, can you hear me?”

Even though her mother’s eyes were open, she didn’t answer.

“Please be all right.” She stroked Mamá’s hair and rested her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Red and blue emergency lights flashed on the street. “The paramedics are here. I’ll be right back.”

She shoved open the door. “In here.”

Uniformed men and women filled the room.

“Patient’s name?” someone asked.

“Rosa Castillo.”

Carolina was shuttled to the side and a paramedic took her mother’s blood pressure and checked her pupils. Another installed an IV.

“What’s that for?” she asked, biting her lip.

“In case we need to administer medication.” They worked and talked, but not to Carolina. And that was fine. She wanted their full attention on Mamá.

She wrapped her arms around her belly, a chill settling deep in her bones.

Mamá groaned.

“Ma’am?” the female EMT asked. “Can you tell us your name?”

Mamá didn’t answer.

Please be okay. Don’t leave me. Please be okay. I’ll get you anything you want. If I have to steal or go into debt, just don’t leave me. She repeated the mantra over and over.

A gurney clattered up the steps. The paramedics gently lifted Mamá onto the flat surface. With precise movements, they strapped her in place. The gurney clacked as they hoisted it up.