Read Online The Witch’s Grave by Shirley Damsgaard - Free Book Online

cutting me off. “And if they have a false Social Security number and work for an employer, they pay not only federal and state taxes, but Medicare and Social Security.” Claire caught her breath. “There are billions that they’ve paid in, but that will never be claimed because of their legal status.”
    Picking up my pen, I tapped it on the edge of my desk. “That’s interesting, but you know how nonpolitical I am. I don’t keep up on these things.”
    “Ophelia,” she said in a frosty voice, as I imagined her peering at the phone over the top of her glasses, “how can you make an informed decision at the polls if you don’t keep abreast of the issues?”
    She had me on that one.
    “Well, ah, I…” I stuttered.
    Claire ignored my mumbling. “The status of undocumented workers needs to be addressed on both a national and international level.” Her voice rose in excitement. “And between the countries engaged in the fair trade agreements…”
    My eyes glazed over listening to her as I tried to think of a graceful way to end the conversation. Claire would keep me on the phone for hours expounding her political views.
    “…then there are the corporations that actually lure immigrant workers to this country with flyers promising jobs. Once here, without documents, these people have no voice. They—”
    “Gee, Claire, sorry to cut you off,” I interrupted, “but I’m down in my office and someone’s at the door.” I rapped a couple of times on the corner of my desk. “I’ll pick up the guest list later and get right to work on those thank-yous.”
    I groaned after hanging up. I felt guilty lying to Claire, but while she might be focused on an upcoming election, Ihad more weighty matters on my mind…like attempted murder. I appreciated Claire’s passion—people like her changed the world.
    All I wanted to do was save mine.
     
    At four o’clock I ventured out of my office and upstairs. Darci stood at the counter, looking bored.
    “Slow day?” I asked, crossing to her.
    “Yeah,” she replied with a toss of her head. “I think it’s too hot for people to venture out today. Did you know school was let out early?”
    My thoughts flew to Tink. Did she ride the bus out to Abby’s? Another pang of guilt hit me: What kind of mother was I? I didn’t even know where my kid was.
    I grabbed the phone from behind the counter and called Abby.
    “Abby’s Greenhouse,” Tink answered.
    A hand flew to my chest. “Good. Darci just told me that school was dismissed early, and I—”
    “Ophelia,” Tink interrupted with a tinge of exasperation. “You’ve got to quit worrying. I’m okay. I rode the bus like I was supposed to.”
    “Okay, okay,” I replied, trying to hide my relief. “How’s it going?”
    “Hot.” She sounded grumpy. “Abby had me repotting plants all afternoon.”
    “How was your first day of school?”
    “All right…Mrs. Olson gave us homework. Can you believe it? The first day of school and she assigns an essay.”
    I gave a low chuckle. “You’re in ninth grade now. Your teachers are starting to prepare you for what it will be like when you go to college.”
    A tiny feeling of loss squeezed my heart as I said the words. Tink had been in my life such a short time, and already we were planning for the day when she’d be on her own.
    Her voice in my ear broke the spell. “I don’t care what they’re trying to do, it’s still not fair.”
    “Is the essay going to be hard?”
    “Ha,” she said with snort. “It’s one of those stupid ‘how was your summer’ things.” She giggled in my ear. “Think I should write about Gert and Winnie?”
    “Ah, probably not,” I answered with a shake of my head.
    The kid amazed me. She was held captive for a week, yet had never been afraid. When we finally found her, she was more annoyed at Gert and Winnie than anything else. Her total lack of fear was just one more reason that I needed to keep her out of the current