C.J. Carmichael - Leaving Enchantment

Kim had the oddest, most inappropriate impulse. She wanted to hug the little girl, to crush her to her chest.

“I’ve been trying to put my sister and brother-in-law’s affairs in order. I found your invoice in a stack of unpaid bills. It seems their account is over ninety days delinquent, but that can’t be right.”

She ignored him, looked back at the girl. “That book was one of my favorites when I was little.”

Sammy edged closer to Kim’s desk. “Do you keep stuff in those drawers?”

Opening the one at the top, Kim found a blue marker and a pad of notepaper. “Would you like these, Sammy?”

The little girl nodded. “I like making pictures.”

“Would you like to make one now? How about you go sit in one of the chairs beside that nice lady who walked you in here?” If she and Nolan McKinnon were about to start haggling over the Davidsons’ invoice, she didn’t want Sammy to witness the scene.

She glanced at the uncle. “Trish will keep a close watch on her.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Kim walked the little girl back to reception and stopped to talk with Trish. As she’d expected, the receptionist was only too pleased to help.

Back in her own office, Kim resolved to regain control of the situation. Realizing Nolan McKinnon was the editor of the Bulletin, then identifying the little girl as Mary and Steve Davidson’s daughter had thrown her a little. But her hands were almost steady once more.

“Okay.” Kim sat down and leaned over her desk. “We can discuss your business now.”

Nolan gave her another smile. The sincere kind. “Wow.”

“Pardon me?”

“Sammy must really like you. She doesn’t speak as much in a day to me as she did to you right now. I suppose you’re one of those people who is just naturally good with kids.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not what you’d call a people person.”

She saw him fight back a smile and clenched her pen tightly. Damn him for laughing at her. Did he think she cared what he thought of her?

McKinnon had taken a seat without an invitation. Now he leaned over his knees and regarded her intently. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No. I grew up in Denver.”

“How long have you been in Enchantment?”

“Almost a year.”

“But I haven’t run into you anywhere.”

“I’m not one for socializing.” Her glasses sat perfectly on her nose, but she pushed a finger against the bridge. “Um, I assume you wanted to talk about this invoice?”

The little spark in his eyes disappeared.

She carried on. “It really is more than ninety days delinquent. Our policy is to start charging interest after the third month an invoice is unpaid.”

“I see. But surely in special circumstances you’ll make an exception? You see, Steve quit his full-time job about six months ago and started his own business. He signed with a new insurance company, but since Mary was already pregnant at the time…”

Kim sat impassively. Over the months she’d worked here, she’d heard all sorts of stories. But here was the bottom line—someone had to pay. If the Davidsons didn’t have insurance, then the money would have to come from their estate. And she could not let them get off paying months and months late without an interest penalty.

Eventually Nolan clued in to the fact that she wasn’t being swayed.

“Never mind the details. All I’m asking for is a two-month extension with no interest.”

She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sorry about your sister, Mr. McKinnon, but we gave her the best care possible.”

“Yes. I didn’t mean to imply that you hadn’t. Believe me, I checked into the full circumstances of her death.”

She bet he had. He was a reporter after all. He’d have made certain his sister had received top-notch care, both here, and then, later, at the hospital. She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t found anything amiss. If it had been humanly possible to save Mary Davidson and her baby, Lydia would have done so.

“The thing is—” Nolan adjusted the invoice on her desk a few inches “—the majority of Mary and Steve’s assets are frozen until their wills pass probate. And I still haven’t been able to sort through their health insurance papers…”

Nolan let his sentence trail off. Damn, but this was embarrassing. He’d pay the bill himself, but he’d just sunk everything he’d saved for the past year into his annual principal payment to Charley.

He’d been forced to take a loan to pay for the three funerals, and how much of those costs would eventually be covered by insurance was anyone’s guess.

Now he had a niece to somehow provide for, including the expense of before-and after-school care.

He did not need Mary and Steve’s old bills to worry about, too.

“I don’t want to sound heartless, Mr. McKinnon. But since my arrival, I’ve instigated a new policy. All patients are billed in installments, with the final payment due by the thirty-sixth week of pregnancy. I understand the Davidsons’ assets are in probate. But I cannot suspend our interest charges.

“We have salaries to cover here. Overhead. When our patients are late paying their bills it costs us money. Of course, in cases of financial difficulty we make exceptions. Your sister and her husband, however, did not seem to be in that category.”

He knew what she referred to. Mary’s expensive clothing, the pricey vehicle they’d driven, the area in which they’d lived. No, Mary and Steve had not wanted for much.

“But—”

“One of my policies, Mr. McKinnon—” she removed her glasses and stowed them carefully in a leather container “—is that I make no exceptions.”

Did she know she sounded like a ninety-year-old British schoolmarm? Which, given her delicate beauty, was pretty damn incongruous. Kim Sherman looked like one tiny mouse would send her screaming. In actual fact she could probably stare down the entire Internal Revenue Service.

He would be damned, though, before he saw his niece’s estate further eroded through additional interest charges. “I’ll put the bill on my Visa, then.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, then slipped out the gold card. The accountant frowned.

“We only accept cash or personal check.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” He slapped his wallet against her desk.

“I’m sorry, Mr. McKinnon, but that’s our—”

“I know, I know. That’s your policy.”

Kim Sherman spoke quietly. “The reception area isn’t far away. Your niece might well be listening as you yell at me. Perhaps you could keep your voice down?”

And perhaps you could try being human for five minutes. He bit back the comment. Losing his temper here wasn’t going to solve anything. He peeled a blank check away from his last twenty. He’d cover this later, with a cash advance from his Visa. What did Ms. Sherman care that he’d be the one stuck with an outrageous interest charge as a result?

Kim took a stamp from her desk. Once he’d handed her the check, she pressed a red-inked “Paid” across the face of the invoice and passed it back to him.

He stuffed the invoice into his pocket, feeling exhaustion down to his bones. What he needed was a good nap, but no chance of that now that he had a six-year-old on his hands full-time.

He pushed out of his chair. “Well, I guess I’d better leave you to get back to your policies.” Kim Sherman sure was a piece of work. He wondered if anyone ever got the best of this woman.

As he turned to leave, Sammy opened the door and peeked inside.

“I finished my picture.”

The grim expression on Ms. Sherman’s face vanished. “Can I see?”

Nolan waited impatiently while his niece shyly presented her work to the accountant. When Kim expressed an inordinate amount of pleasure in the picture, Sammy offered it to her.