The man in the passenger seat opened the door and rose from the car. He was short with gray hair and squinty eyes. “Miss Jordan, my name is Paul Forno. I represent the House of Devereaux. My associate and I need to discuss an important matter with you.”
The House of Devereaux? Coco wasn’t sure if it was a fashion label or a collection agency. When the driver opened his car door, panic raced through her. “Listen, this is private property. This is also where I work.”
“Yes, ma’am. Please accept our apologies, but this is news that must be delivered in person. If you could give us a few moments of your time—”
“Not right now,” she said. “I’m on my way out.”
The man sighed. “As you wish, miss, but we don’t have a lot of time. Please accept my business card and call me at your earliest convenience,” he said and offered her the card.
Confused, but not wanting to show it, she gave a brisk nod, stuffed the card into her small purse and strode to her car. We don’t have a lot of time. What could that possibly mean? And who was we? Her hands shook as she stuck the key into the ignition of her five-year-old economy car. Looking in her rearview mirror, she felt a microbit of relief when she saw the black Mercedes pull away from the ranch.
Coco opened her car window and took several breaths. The men looked like the same kind who had frequented her mother’s home the last two months before she died. Her mother had fallen deeply in debt, and lenders had become impatient with her inability to pay her bills. Coco had helped as much as she could, but near the end she was only working part-time. Her mother’s care had required the rest of her time and energy.
She wondered if somehow she was responsible for some of her mother’s bills. She’d never cosigned loans, but she had used a credit card when they’d had an electrical problem and her car had needed an emergency repair. She’d thought she’d paid it off, but now she thought she needed to review her check register.
Her mind reeling, Coco drove off the property onto the highway into town. All the time, she wondered what she should do. She remembered a friend who had been a legal assistant. Maybe she could call her.
Reaching the small town of Silver City, she pulled alongside the town diner and got out of her car. She wanted a good cup of coffee or hot chocolate or hot apple cider and maybe a little sympathy from her friend Kim, a waitress at the diner. She’d known Kim back in high school, and Kim had since married and moved to Silver City. Coco and Kim had shared a meal when Coco had first come to town last month. Since then, Coco had dropped into the diner with Emma a couple times.
Coco walked inside the homey diner and the hostess immediately greeted her. “How are you doing, miss? Can I seat you?”
“Fine, thank you. Yes,” Coco said. “Please do. Just one.”
“We’ve got plenty of room. I’ll put you in a booth.”
As soon as Coco slid into the red booth, Kim Washburn winked and waved at her. Coco shot her a weak smile in return.
A couple moments later, Kim trotted to Coco’s table. “Where’s the little one today?” Kim asked.
“I finally got a couple hours off so I left her sleeping with Sarah at the ready to take over. I need to run some errands.”
“I would say so. You haven’t taken a break since you signed on for this gig, have you? What can I get you?”
“Hot chocolate,” she said. “Or apple cider.”
Kim laughed. “You want both?”
“No. I’ll take hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.”
Kim studied her thoughtfully. “Something wrong? Now that I think about it, you don’t look too happy.”
“Just distracted,” Coco said.
Kim shrugged her shoulders, but clearly didn’t believe her. “If you say so. But if you need some help, I’ll give it my best try,” she said, then headed for the kitchen area.
Coco bit her lip. She was so used to fending for herself that she almost didn’t know how to accept help when it was offered. Kim returned with a mug of hot chocolate overflowing with marshmallows.
Coco smiled. “Thanks. Can you keep something confidential?” she asked in a low voice.
“Sure, what is it?”
“I may need some legal advice,” Coco said reluctantly.
Kim’s eyes widened and she slid into the booth across from Coco. “Well, you’re not married, so you don’t need a divorce. I can’t believe you’ve committed any crimes.”
“It’s not that,” Coco said. “I just need to check on what happens to a person’s debts when they die. I need to know if I’m responsible for my mother’s debts.”
“Well, I can tell you that. As long as you didn’t cosign anything, you’re not responsible. How do I know? When my husband Hank’s parents died, they had a boatload of debt and none of the kids had to pay. Now the repo company took everything his parents owned and that meant no inheritance for the kids, but the kids did not have to pay.” She frowned. “Why are you worried?”
“These strange men have come to Benjamin Garner’s house. They remind me of the bill collectors who kept coming around when my mother was sick,” Coco said.
“Well, if they’re angling to get some money out of you, they’re just crooked. You should tell Benjamin. He’ll take care of them in no time.”
“But he’s my employer. It would be embarrassing to have to tell him about this,” she said.
“If they keep coming around the house, he’s going to find out anyway. Better to nip it in the bud. And trust me, there’s no one better-suited to take care of someone trying to pull some sort of money scheme on you than Benjamin.” Kim thumped the table with her knuckles. “I gotta get back to work. Enjoy those marshmallows and talk to Benjamin.”
Coco stared at the marshmallows, her stomach churning at the prospect of discussing her mother’s debt issues with Benjamin.
* * *
“She’s okay as long as I bob up and down. I just hope it doesn’t make my fillings fall out. You’ll have a high dental bill if that happens,” Sarah warned Benjamin as she jiggled Emma.
Emma had spotted him and was throwing a hard glance at him. It amazed him that a kid under six months old could kill a man with her eyes. Maybe she was a chip off the old block after all. He turned to go to his office.
“Not so fast,” Sarah called. “The least you can do is come here and say hello to your daughter.”
“I’ll just make her cry,” he said.
“I’ll take that risk. You can’t run from your own child forever,” she said.
“I’m not running,” he said. “I just don’t see any need in upsetting her.”
Benjamin slowly walked toward Sarah and Emma. The baby glared at him like a gunfighter ready for action.
“Boo,” he said in a low voice.
Both Sarah and Emma gasped. “Why’d you do that? You’re just gonna scare her even more.”
Benjamin shrugged and walked closer. He lifted his hand to the sweet skin of the baby’s chubby arm. “Hey, Princess, sooner or later, you’ll realize that I’m gonna be around a long time. I can just tell you’re gonna give me hell till you figure that out.”
Emma frowned, but she didn’t cry. She shot him another hard look and stared at his hat.
“Does this bother you?”