Abandon the Dark. Marta Perry

      A shiver went down her spine. It’s nothing, she told herself. An overactive imagination and an overtired body made a bad combination. But she locked the door carefully, just the same.

      * * *

      PUNCTUALITY HAD NEVER been Lainey’s strong suit, but she arrived at the attorney’s office a few minutes before nine the next morning, eager to get this meeting over with and go to the hospital. Why was it necessary, anyway? Jake Evans surely had fulfilled his duty by letting her know about her great-aunt’s condition, but he had insisted she stop by.

      She wouldn’t find out without asking, she supposed. The lawyer’s office was in the ground floor of a square, solid brick building right on Main Street. Evans and Son, Attorneys-at-Law, the sign read.

      Lainey pulled open the door and found herself in a wide entryway, bare except for a mounted moose head that stared down at her rather sourly. She hustled through a second door into a conventional receptionist’s space. Four or five padded chairs sat empty against the wall. Two identical doors apparently led to the offices of Evans Senior and Evans Junior.

      The receptionist, a gray-haired female with an unrelentingly stern face, turned from watering the philodendron that overflowed from the corner of her desk.

      “Ms. Colton?” Her gaze swept Lainey from top to toe, and a faintly pained expression formed as she took in jeans, boots and tucked turquoise shirt topped with a fringed suede jacket.

      “That’s right.” Lainey forced herself not to fidget. Deer Run must really be behind the times if the woman found this outfit inappropriate. It was probably the most businesslike thing Lainey owned. “I’m supposed to meet Jacob Evans at nine.” She brushed her hair back, setting the dangling silver-and-turquoise earrings she’d made jingle.

      “I’ll let Mr. Evans know you’re here.” The woman leaned across the desk to press a button on the phone.

      In an instant, the right-hand door swung open. The man who emerged was so unlike the image she’d formed from their brief conversation on the phone that Lainey had to stare.

      She had expected old, stuffy, businesslike and disapproving. The reality was tall, lanky and probably early thirties, with thick, reddish-brown hair, a long jaw, straight nose and a mobile mouth that looked as if it smiled readily.

      It wasn’t smiling now. The disapproval, at least, was as she’d imagined.

      “Ms. Colton, please come in. I’m Jake Evans, your great-aunt’s attorney.”

      She gave him a cool nod and walked past him into the inner office. There were plenty of reasons why a solid citizen like Jacob Evans would disapprove of her, but she couldn’t imagine how he’d know any of them. Maybe he just disapproved of outsiders on general principle. With the quick toss that sent her unruly mane behind her shoulders for a few moments, at least, she took what was obviously the visitor’s chair.

      “You must have made an early start to get here by nine,” Evans said, sliding into the leather executive chair behind the desk. He leaned back, looking for a moment as if he’d prop his foot up on a conveniently open drawer, and then seemed to think the better of it.

      “My flight reached Pittsburgh at nine last night. I rented a car and drove straight through, so I got in around midnight.”

      He blinked. “I didn’t expect... Well, that’s fine. You stayed at a motel out on the highway, then?”

      “I stayed at my great-aunt’s house, of course. Why not?”

      “No reason.” He straightened his tie, drawing her attention to his tie clip. The engraved lion gave him away as a Penn State graduate. “I just thought the lack of electricity might be a problem for you.” His lips quirked, making him suddenly more likable.

      “I did keep reaching for a switch, I admit.” She returned the smile, liking the way his face warmed when he forgot to be stiff and legal. “But the cat and I got along all right.”

      “Cat?” He looked at her blankly.

      “Aunt Rebecca’s cat. Big, black, furry, with green eyes?” Like yours, she thought.

      He frowned slightly. “Your aunt doesn’t have a cat.”

      “She doesn’t?” It was odd that Aunt Rebecca hadn’t mentioned a cat in her letters, since she talked about everything in her life. “Well, I guess I gave the neighbor’s cat a middle-of-the-night tuna treat, then.”

      Although in that case, how had the cat gotten into the house? It couldn’t have come in with her. She’d been tired, yes, but not so tired she wouldn’t notice a large cat.

      Lainey gave herself a mental shake. Not important now. She’d shelve that question until later. Unfortunately that thought reminded her of Phillip, telling her that she must be related to Scarlett O’Hara, with her tendency to worry about things tomorrow.

      He’d been more right than she knew. If she’d spent a little more time thinking about where their relationship was headed—

      “I don’t suppose the neighbors will mind,” Jake said, his thoughts obviously still on the cat.

      “I’d like to see my great-aunt,” she said abruptly. “Can you give me directions to the hospital?”

      “Before you head over there, I thought we ought to clarify your position.” His tone had shifted back to being formal.

      “My position?” she echoed, not sure what he was driving at.

      His green eyes narrowed, much like the cat’s had. “Didn’t your great-aunt speak to you about her arrangements?”

      “Arrangements?” She sounded like a demented parrot, echoing everything he said, but she honestly had no idea what the man was talking about.

      Evans rotated a pen slowly in his hand for a moment, and then tried to balance it on its tip. It fell over. “I was afraid of that. You see, your great-aunt has given you power of attorney. Do you know what that means?”

      “I know what power of attorney means.” He didn’t need to sound as if she were a dimwit. “But I’m not sure what effect it has in this situation.”

      “She should have talked to you,” he murmured, half to himself, she suspected. “Basically, it gives you the authority to make any decisions that are necessary in regard to her medical care or finances in the event that she can’t make them herself.”

      “But...she can, can’t she? I mean, you said she asked for me, so that must mean she’s able to talk and make decisions.”

      Evans shook his head, his face somber. “She did ask for you, yes. But after that she lapsed into what I suppose is a coma. She’s a little responsive, but she hasn’t been able to communicate.”

      Lainey stared down at her clasped hands, absorbing his words. She’d known it was serious, of course—even a mild stroke and a fall would be in a woman her great-aunt’s age. But she hadn’t imagined it was this serious.

      Evans sat quietly, apparently realizing that she needed time to absorb this news.

      Lainey rubbed her forehead, trying to think what she ought to do first. “How exactly did it happen?”

      He looked startled, as if he’d expected a different question. “No one knows, exactly. Her niece Katie stopped by the house to check on her and found her at the bottom of the stairs. The doctor says there’s no way of knowing whether she had the stroke and it caused her to fall or whether she fell and the shock brought on the stroke.” He gave her a rueful smile. “At least, that’s what he said with the medical lingo stripped away.”

      The stairs she’d been up and down last night, never knowing...

      “But do they think she’ll recover?” Lainey discovered she was holding her breath.

      He spread his hands, palms up. “Nobody’s willing to commit, either way.”