Sandra Marton - Ring Of Deception

“Was there ever a doubt?” Faith Marshall, Lily’s mother, smiled at Abby. “‘Today we’re wearing blue,’ my daughter announced this morning.” Faith shook her head. “You think maybe we’ve got twins who were mysteriously separated at birth?”

Abby chuckled. “Sometimes it seems like we do.” She bent down, gave Emily another quick hug. “Now, scoot. Otherwise, you’ll miss morning storytime!”

The little girls kissed their mothers and skipped off, hand in hand. Abby turned to Faith and smiled.

“They’re quite a pair.”

Faith grinned. “Two peas in a pod.”

“I was going to call you and see if Lily can come over tomorrow and spend the night. I promised Emily we’d bake chocolate chip cookies.”

“You’re off tomorrow?”

“That’s the other thing I was going to tell you. I’m off Saturdays from now on.”

Faith grinned. “Will miracles never cease?”

“My manager called me in and gave me the news just yesterday. I’d asked for that when I first began working at Emerald City, but Mr. Black—my boss—said it was impossible.”

“What changed?”

Abby shrugged. “Who knows? My manager simply said she’s decided to work Saturdays.” She grinned. “Mine not to reason why—”

“Yours just to reap the trickle-down benefits. The guys on top always get what they want.”

“In this case, that’s fine with me. I’d much rather have a normal weekend—and you won’t have to watch Em for me Saturdays anymore.”

“Lily and I will miss her.”

“Just remember, you can still leave Lily with me anytime you have a freelance job nights or weekends.”

Faith smiled. “Trust me, Abby. I won’t forget.”

“So, how about it? Want to bring Lily by tomorrow?”

“Sure. What time’s good?”

“One, two, whatever works for you.”

“Fine.” Faith pushed open the front door and she and Abby trotted down the steps to the gate in the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the day care center. “You have time for coffee?”

Abby shook her head. “Sorry. I’m almost late as it is.” She looked across Sandringham Drive at the big windows of the Emerald City Jewelry Exchange. “My boss is probably already wondering where in heck I am.”

Faith nodded. “Another time, then.”

“Absolutely,” Abby said, and wondered if the word sounded as false as it felt. “See you tomorrow.”

“Sure. See you then.”

The women exchanged smiles. Then Abby checked for traffic and ran across the street.

Their daughters had grown close, and she and Faith Marshall had quickly discovered that exchanging occasional baby-sitting duties was a lot less expensive—and a lot more reassuring—than paying strangers to watch their children for them.

Still, the women hadn’t moved beyond a superficial friendship. It wasn’t Faith’s doing, it was Abby’s. Of necessity, she’d settled for something less.

There was too much risk in getting involved with people. When you’d run away from a man who’d sworn never to let you go, you never really knew who you could trust.

Abby stopped before the Emerald City door and tapped lightly on the glass. Bill, the security guard, smiled, opened the lock and let her in.

“‘Morning, Abby. Lovely day.”

“‘Morning, Bill. Yes, it is,” she agreed as she hurried up the main aisle of the exchange.

It was a couple of minutes before ten and all the counters—fine watches, gold and platinum jewelry, gemstones, sterling and china—were staffed and ready for customers. Well, all except hers. She sold estate jewelry at a counter right up front in one of the big windows that looked out on the street.

She wasn’t late. Not really, she thought, and glanced up at the loft. Yes, her boss was there, tall and distinguished-looking, his hands clasped behind his back.

He smiled pleasantly.

Abby jerked her gaze down.

Mr. Black had never given her a hard time about being a few minutes late. She’d explained she was a single mother, that she had to drop her daughter off at the day care center every day, and he’d been wonderfully understanding. But sometimes he looked at her in a way that made her feel . . . uncomfortable.

Silly, she knew.

It was just that any man looking at her made her feel uncomfortable, whether they were polite like Mr. Black or surly like the stranger at the day care center. Frank had taught her enough about men to make her more than cautious.

As far as she was concerned, she didn’t want a man anywhere near her, ever again.

To that end, Abby had made certain rules for herself and Emily when she left Eugene, though “left” wasn’t exactly the right way to put it. What she’d done was just grab Emily and run as if the devil was on her heels, with only one suitcase crammed with clothes and baby things, and the last of the money she’d inherited from her parents in her purse—money Frank hadn’t been able to get his hands on.

At two, Emily had thought their flight was a great adventure.

“We goin’, Mommy?” she’d kept asking.

“Yes,” Abby had answered, “we’re going somewhere special.”

That was better than the truth, which was that she’d had no idea where they were going until they got there. At first, she’d fled to a shelter, then to Portland, because it was familiar. But Frank found her there, and when she ran next, it was to San Francisco, where she’d figured on the security quotient of being swallowed up by a big city.

Wrong. San Francisco was too big. Too expensive. Within a week, she’d abandoned it for Seattle. The city was large enough to get lost in, small enough to make her feel comfortable. She’d loved the waterfront on sight, and when the clouds parted and she saw Mount Rainier shouldering up against the sky, she felt as if she’d come home.

Abby opened the door to the back room and went to her locker.

She’d been in the city a year now and she still loved it. She’d found an apartment in a converted Victorian house in a nice neighborhood. The apartment was tiny, but how much space did she and Em need? Plus, it included a small porch and use of a handkerchief-size yard. The rent deposit had taken a big bite out of her remaining funds and she’d gone searching for a job right away.

Who’d have imagined she’d luck out and find one like this so quickly?

Abby put her purse on the bench that ran the length of the lockers. The door swung open and Bettina Carlton strolled in. Bettina had handled the estate jewelry counter before Abby. Now she was Emerald City’s manager.

As always, she looked elegant. Cool and ladylike.

“Good morning, Abby.”

“Hi, Bettina. I know I’m late, but—”

“Not yet,” Bettina said pleasantly. “The front door’s still locked.” She opened her locker, took out a nail file and worked carefully at one perfectly manicured nail. “We’ll be short one clerk today, Abby. Phil’s out with a cold, so I’ll have to relieve you a bit later than usual for lunch.”

Abby closed her locker. Looking at Bettina always made her want to check her hair for flyaway strands, her panty hose for runs.

“No problem.”

Bettina gave the nail one last brush with the file. “Is one-thirty okay?”

“Fine.”

“Great. I have a private client coming in at noon.” Bettina put the file away and looked at Abby. “I noticed you’re doing well.”

“Sales have been good,” Abby said.

“Better than good.” Bettina paused. “That’s one of the primary reasons for the scheduling change we implemented.” She smiled. “Sort of a bonus for you. I know you have a little girl. Emily, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I recalled that you’d originally asked for Saturdays off, so when I had the chance to juggle things a little . . . ”