Read Online Dead Giveaway by Leann Sweeney - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Leann Sweeney
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a day off, and we spent Sunday shopping on the Kemah Boardwalk, then overdosed on shrimp and crab at Pappas Seafood Restaurant. It was a good distraction, one I needed.
My appointment with Molly Roth, the social worker who had worked Will's abandonment case, was for nine a.m. Monday, so I was on the Southwest Freeway heading toward Roth's office in Sugarland by eightthirty. Houston freeways at that time of day? Basically a cuss-off with hand signals.
I'd researched Roth and discovered she'd left Children's Protective Services many years ago and currently ran a private agency that supplied parents with certified nannies—that according to the sales pitch Roth had insisted on delivering over the phone when I called her for an appointment. I wasn't even sure I'd convinced her I had no interest in hiring anyone from her agency unless they wanted to babysit a spoiled cat.
Her tenth-floor office was housed in a smoked-glass high-rise right off the freeway. When I entered suite 1012, a woman in her late fifties wearing glasses and a vintage navy suit with pale blue piping on the lapels flew into the waiting area the minute I arrived. She nearly tripped over a child-size table and chairs piled with books and puzzles.
''Hi,'' I said, extending my hand. ''I'm—''
''You're late. You must never be late in this business. Now get in here.'' She grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the waiting area into an office populated by enough stuffed animals, cartoon posters, dolls and toys to rival a Disney World gift shop.
The woman squinted at me through lenses so thick they magnified her dark eyes and made her look like a koala bear.
''What's happened to you?'' she said. Her voice sounded like the Molly Roth I'd spoken with the other day but with the frantic button turned on. ''You did something different to your hair. And we talked about clothes. No clingy T-shirts like this.'' She pulled at my pink V-neck and appraised the rest of me. ''The khakis are okay, but—''
''Ms. Roth, I think you've mistaken me for someone else. I'm Abby Rose. Remember, we spoke on the phone and—''
''You're not Julie?'' She craned her neck and moved in so close we were practically nose to nose. ''God, you're not. Okay, you're new. Do you have a criminal background? And don't lie to me, because if I get you this job and find out later you lied, I'll—''
''We have an appointment, Ms. Roth,'' I cut in. ''About a case you worked for CPS.''
Roth blinked, her jaw slack. Then came the dawn of realization. ''Oh. That's today ?''
''Yes, ma'am,'' I said.
''I really don't have time for you. A nanny hasn't shown and—''
A cell phone twirped from its resting place on Roth's cluttered desk. Papers went flying everywhere when she swooped down on the phone. She flipped it open and said, ''Julie? Where in heaven are you?''
I saw color rise up the woman's pale neck and
scorch her cheeks. ''Oh. Yes. Of course. That's right. Thank you for checking in.''
Roth closed her phone and then her body went slack, her arms limp at her sides. ''Today is Monday. Did you know that?''
''Um, yes. That's when you told me to be here.''
''And Monday is not Tuesday.''
''Not last time I checked.'' Why did I have the feeling I'd be getting absolutely nowhere with this interview?
Roth smiled, adjusted her glasses. ''But that's a good thing, Ms. Rose. No child is without their nanny because today is Monday. Now. How can I help you?''
''Um, could we sit down?''
''Yes, certainly. Absolutely.'' She glanced around in what I assumed was her usual agitated fashion and scooped up a pile of folders and neon stuffed fish off the chair that faced her desk. Then she opened a closet to my left and tossed them inside, quickly shutting the door before the other thousand things inside fell out.
She gestured at the empty chair. ''There. Sit. Coffee?''
''No,'' I said quickly. Besides the fact that I'd
My appointment with Molly Roth, the social worker who had worked Will's abandonment case, was for nine a.m. Monday, so I was on the Southwest Freeway heading toward Roth's office in Sugarland by eightthirty. Houston freeways at that time of day? Basically a cuss-off with hand signals.
I'd researched Roth and discovered she'd left Children's Protective Services many years ago and currently ran a private agency that supplied parents with certified nannies—that according to the sales pitch Roth had insisted on delivering over the phone when I called her for an appointment. I wasn't even sure I'd convinced her I had no interest in hiring anyone from her agency unless they wanted to babysit a spoiled cat.
Her tenth-floor office was housed in a smoked-glass high-rise right off the freeway. When I entered suite 1012, a woman in her late fifties wearing glasses and a vintage navy suit with pale blue piping on the lapels flew into the waiting area the minute I arrived. She nearly tripped over a child-size table and chairs piled with books and puzzles.
''Hi,'' I said, extending my hand. ''I'm—''
''You're late. You must never be late in this business. Now get in here.'' She grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the waiting area into an office populated by enough stuffed animals, cartoon posters, dolls and toys to rival a Disney World gift shop.
The woman squinted at me through lenses so thick they magnified her dark eyes and made her look like a koala bear.
''What's happened to you?'' she said. Her voice sounded like the Molly Roth I'd spoken with the other day but with the frantic button turned on. ''You did something different to your hair. And we talked about clothes. No clingy T-shirts like this.'' She pulled at my pink V-neck and appraised the rest of me. ''The khakis are okay, but—''
''Ms. Roth, I think you've mistaken me for someone else. I'm Abby Rose. Remember, we spoke on the phone and—''
''You're not Julie?'' She craned her neck and moved in so close we were practically nose to nose. ''God, you're not. Okay, you're new. Do you have a criminal background? And don't lie to me, because if I get you this job and find out later you lied, I'll—''
''We have an appointment, Ms. Roth,'' I cut in. ''About a case you worked for CPS.''
Roth blinked, her jaw slack. Then came the dawn of realization. ''Oh. That's today ?''
''Yes, ma'am,'' I said.
''I really don't have time for you. A nanny hasn't shown and—''
A cell phone twirped from its resting place on Roth's cluttered desk. Papers went flying everywhere when she swooped down on the phone. She flipped it open and said, ''Julie? Where in heaven are you?''
I saw color rise up the woman's pale neck and
scorch her cheeks. ''Oh. Yes. Of course. That's right. Thank you for checking in.''
Roth closed her phone and then her body went slack, her arms limp at her sides. ''Today is Monday. Did you know that?''
''Um, yes. That's when you told me to be here.''
''And Monday is not Tuesday.''
''Not last time I checked.'' Why did I have the feeling I'd be getting absolutely nowhere with this interview?
Roth smiled, adjusted her glasses. ''But that's a good thing, Ms. Rose. No child is without their nanny because today is Monday. Now. How can I help you?''
''Um, could we sit down?''
''Yes, certainly. Absolutely.'' She glanced around in what I assumed was her usual agitated fashion and scooped up a pile of folders and neon stuffed fish off the chair that faced her desk. Then she opened a closet to my left and tossed them inside, quickly shutting the door before the other thousand things inside fell out.
She gestured at the empty chair. ''There. Sit. Coffee?''
''No,'' I said quickly. Besides the fact that I'd
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