Read Online Delaney's Shadow by Ingrid Weaver - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ingrid Weaver
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yesterday.
But she had made him up; therefore she was the one who had rejected herself, and now she was the one who was coping.
This was getting far too complicated. Of all the things she had to worry about, the return of Max shouldn’t be one of them. It simply meant her imagination was functioning again. Hopefully, her memory would follow suit.
She flexed her fingers and leaned over to retrieve the pillowcase.
“Hey, Delaney.”
She turned toward the voice.
Phoebe Spencer, the student who was helping Helen for the summer, was hurrying toward her from the direction of the back door. Along with her usual outfit of cut-off shorts and a tube top, she wore one of Helen’s ruffled gingham aprons. She waved one hand at the laundry basket. “Mrs. W.’s going to kill me.”
“Why?”
“I was supposed to hang that stuff up.”
“I’m almost done. You can pretend you didn’t see me.”
Phoebe shook her head, knocking loose a clump of hair. She’d pulled it into a spiky, magenta-streaked version of Helen’s pouf this morning. “No, that’s not why I came to find you. You’ve got a visitor.”
Delaney immediately envisioned a tall, dark-haired man with broad shoulders and a go-to-hell attitude. Her pulse skipped. “A visitor?”
“He said his name’s Leo Throop.”
A flesh-and-blood visitor. “He’s my lawyer.”
“A lawyer? You’re kidding. He looks just like the algebra prof I had last year.” She gestured at her elbows. “His jacket has those things on the sleeves.”
“He cultivates the rumpled look. It makes some people underestimate him.”
“I guess that’s why Mrs. W. made him show her his ID. She wanted to be sure he’s who he said he is.”
“Leo must have loved that.”
“I couldn’t tell. I know Mrs. W. enjoyed it.” Phoebe took the pillowcase from Delaney’s hand. “I’ll finish this up for you.”
“Thanks.” She turned toward the back door.
“He’s on the front veranda.”
Delaney nodded and changed direction, walking across the terrace and around to the front yard. The veranda was considered a second sitting room during the summer. Leo was in one of the wicker chairs that were grouped to the left of the front entrance. He was a plump man, so it was a tight squeeze. A tweed sport coat with suede elbow patches was draped over the back of the chair and a bulging leather briefcase rested on the floor beside him. He used the chair arms to push himself to his feet as she climbed to the veranda. “Good morning, Delaney. I hope I haven’t caught you at an inconvenient time.”
“Hardly. I was hanging up the laundry.”
He regarded her over the tops of his glasses and widened his eyes in mock horror. “You?”
“I need to exercise them,” she said, waggling her fingers. “Consider it therapy. Clothespins work just as well as the rubber ball they gave me in rehab.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, thanks. How was the flight?”
“Aside from the uncivilized earliness of the departure time, it was pleasant. I learned a great deal about outboard motors from my seat mate, who was a sales rep for your local factory. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I loathe boats.”
“They’re not my favorite mode of transport, either. Thanks for coming so quickly, Leo.”
“It was my pleasure. I was planning to drop in during the weekend to check up on you anyway. This way I can bill you for the trip and the hotel.”
It was an old joke. Leo had been a frequent visitor during her initial stay at the hospital and later during the months at the clinic, both as her friend and as her lawyer. They’d first met when he’d gone to work at the same firm as her father. She could have afforded to hire a more high-power attorney, yet there was none she trusted as much as Leo, especially when it came to dealing with her stepdaughter. Stanford’s lawyer was an old friend of the Graye family and had known Elizabeth all her life, so she couldn’t gamble on his
But she had made him up; therefore she was the one who had rejected herself, and now she was the one who was coping.
This was getting far too complicated. Of all the things she had to worry about, the return of Max shouldn’t be one of them. It simply meant her imagination was functioning again. Hopefully, her memory would follow suit.
She flexed her fingers and leaned over to retrieve the pillowcase.
“Hey, Delaney.”
She turned toward the voice.
Phoebe Spencer, the student who was helping Helen for the summer, was hurrying toward her from the direction of the back door. Along with her usual outfit of cut-off shorts and a tube top, she wore one of Helen’s ruffled gingham aprons. She waved one hand at the laundry basket. “Mrs. W.’s going to kill me.”
“Why?”
“I was supposed to hang that stuff up.”
“I’m almost done. You can pretend you didn’t see me.”
Phoebe shook her head, knocking loose a clump of hair. She’d pulled it into a spiky, magenta-streaked version of Helen’s pouf this morning. “No, that’s not why I came to find you. You’ve got a visitor.”
Delaney immediately envisioned a tall, dark-haired man with broad shoulders and a go-to-hell attitude. Her pulse skipped. “A visitor?”
“He said his name’s Leo Throop.”
A flesh-and-blood visitor. “He’s my lawyer.”
“A lawyer? You’re kidding. He looks just like the algebra prof I had last year.” She gestured at her elbows. “His jacket has those things on the sleeves.”
“He cultivates the rumpled look. It makes some people underestimate him.”
“I guess that’s why Mrs. W. made him show her his ID. She wanted to be sure he’s who he said he is.”
“Leo must have loved that.”
“I couldn’t tell. I know Mrs. W. enjoyed it.” Phoebe took the pillowcase from Delaney’s hand. “I’ll finish this up for you.”
“Thanks.” She turned toward the back door.
“He’s on the front veranda.”
Delaney nodded and changed direction, walking across the terrace and around to the front yard. The veranda was considered a second sitting room during the summer. Leo was in one of the wicker chairs that were grouped to the left of the front entrance. He was a plump man, so it was a tight squeeze. A tweed sport coat with suede elbow patches was draped over the back of the chair and a bulging leather briefcase rested on the floor beside him. He used the chair arms to push himself to his feet as she climbed to the veranda. “Good morning, Delaney. I hope I haven’t caught you at an inconvenient time.”
“Hardly. I was hanging up the laundry.”
He regarded her over the tops of his glasses and widened his eyes in mock horror. “You?”
“I need to exercise them,” she said, waggling her fingers. “Consider it therapy. Clothespins work just as well as the rubber ball they gave me in rehab.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, thanks. How was the flight?”
“Aside from the uncivilized earliness of the departure time, it was pleasant. I learned a great deal about outboard motors from my seat mate, who was a sales rep for your local factory. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I loathe boats.”
“They’re not my favorite mode of transport, either. Thanks for coming so quickly, Leo.”
“It was my pleasure. I was planning to drop in during the weekend to check up on you anyway. This way I can bill you for the trip and the hotel.”
It was an old joke. Leo had been a frequent visitor during her initial stay at the hospital and later during the months at the clinic, both as her friend and as her lawyer. They’d first met when he’d gone to work at the same firm as her father. She could have afforded to hire a more high-power attorney, yet there was none she trusted as much as Leo, especially when it came to dealing with her stepdaughter. Stanford’s lawyer was an old friend of the Graye family and had known Elizabeth all her life, so she couldn’t gamble on his
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