Mandi sat beside Lane in the hard pew of the funeral chapel and watched the images of Brittney play on an endless loop. Her life had been cut short, so the video lasted only a few minutes. Her whole existence reduced to a few minutes in pictures. Several photos of Brit as a toddler and schoolgirl flashed across the screen – everything from Brit in a ballerina’s tutu to a high school knockout in a sequined gown. Had that bastard considered for one second that he was killing someone’s little girl? Stealing a life that meant something to the people who loved her?
Quiet music played in the background, and Mandi couldn’t help feeling that Brit would’ve wanted something more lively. She’d want to be remembered with more fun and flair. Mandi glanced down at the silver necklace she’d worn. With the tassel at the bottom, it dangled almost to her waist. It’d been a gift from Brit, and even though it might be a bit flashy for a funeral, Mandi was glad she’d worn it. For you, Brit, she thought, toying with the tassel.
When the music faded, the video stopped, and a minister stepped onto the platform at the front of the room. Brit’s brother took the stage as well, and lit a candle on a small stand. He unfolded a piece of paper and turned to the audience. Before he could say a word, tears streamed down Mandi’s face. Lane squeezed her hand.
Steve thanked everyone for coming and for their prayers and friendship. He told a couple of stories that made some of the people in the room laugh. Shared history, Mandi supposed. She didn’t have a lot of years with Brittney, but they’d bonded over shared circumstances. Even so, Brit had been a friend, but not a confidante. They didn’t share their most personal thoughts and feelings. Mandi kept those to herself. She sucked in her breath as a wave of heat washed over her. In the last forty-eight hours she’d told Lane everything. Everything. And she’d barely known him two weeks.
As soon as Steve finished his eulogy, the minister took over and began a prayer. Mandi bowed her head, and it occurred to her that the last funeral she’d attended had been her own daughter’s. And she had almost no memories of it. Just a few fuzzy images. Had there been music? She had no idea.
She felt Lane’s eyes on her, and peeked over at him, grateful now that he’d offered to come with her. She’d be pelted with questions at work tomorrow, of course. But she’d just have to deal with it. For now, she took comfort in his solid presence beside her.
Mandi listened to the minister speak, and wondered if he’d even known Brittney.
“Jesus told us to love one another,” he said. “That didn’t happen here. There is no reason. No excuse for one human being to inflict this kind of pain on another.”
She glanced toward the pew where Brit’s family sat. Her mother held a tissue to her eyes.
People did such horrible things to each other, Mandi thought, letting the reverend’s words fade into the distance. In her mind, Mandi could hear the loud laughter from the girls in high school – intended to let Mandi know she wasn’t part of the group. She thought of how she’d hurt others with the lie she’d told Aaron. How the man in the convenience store a few blocks from Jimmy’s had been robbed and beaten to death. She thought of the young girl who’d been abducted and killed on her way home from school last year. And now Brit.
“We commit Brittney, our friend, daughter, sister, to the comforting arms of a gracious and loving God,” the minister said.
Mandi’s eyes welled again. And she knew in that moment that she would be a surrogate mother. She had to. She had to do something good to balance out so much evil.
Lane watched Mandi as she turned from hugging her friend’s brother. He’d let her go to the more personal graveside service on her own. She walked slowly toward him, her eyes downcast and her hair blowing back in the breeze, her somber expression in sharp contrast to the blue spring sky behind her. She wore a short-sleeved black dress that fell a few inches above her knees, and dress shoes that almost looked like short boots. From his vantage point, she could just as easily have been strolling down a fashion runway or posing for a magazine ad as making her way across a cemetery from a funeral.
When she looked up and swiped a tear from her cheek, Lane’s chest tightened. And he knew he was developing feelings for Mandi Evans. Just as surely, he knew he’d have to keep them in check. Though the timing was still uncertain, this relationship came with an expiration date.
**
“I’ll stop by the diner tomorrow night,” Lane told her as he pulled into The Meadows. He still hadn’t had an opportunity to fill her in on his meeting with either Jimmy or the owner of the trailer park. Neither had gone well, but he didn’t want to add any more stress to her life.
She’d obviously forgotten about the meetings in all of the trauma over Brittney. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her about the mobile home park. Nothing was definite according to the guy at the city. Still, Lane knew she’d be pissed if she found out it might be sold and he’d known about it beforehand. He didn’t want to break her trust.
“Yeah. Come around eight-forty-five, if you can,” she said. “That’s when I’ll be on break.”
He nodded. “Will do.” Perfect. By then, Jimmy’d be gone. He could handle Jimmy, but he didn’t want Mandi caught in any potential crossfire.
Mandi didn’t invite Lane in. She needed to regroup, mentally prepare for going back to DataPlus. And she wanted to get on the internet and fill out the application of interest on a couple of agencies’ websites. She’d waited long enough.
He didn’t seem surprised. He kissed her goodbye, and she leaned against the doorframe, watching him until he disappeared into his car. Lane Whitmore had been the classiest, best-dressed man at the funeral. Like an alien, he’d stood apart from the blue-collar crowd. And she’d taken a tiny bit of pride in the fact. Did that make her a hypocrite?
With a sigh, she pushed off from the wall and locked the door. Probably, but she didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. She sank onto the sofa and opened her laptop.
One of the agencies simply requested basic information on her background and health to get started. The other one – the one recommended by Dr. Bensen – also required an essay on why she wanted to be a surrogate. Mandi flopped back against the sofa. Ugh. What difference did it make? And how much did she want to tell them?
When her phone rang, Mandi checked the number. Her mother. Mandi had figured she’d call. “Hey, Mom,” she said into the phone as she wandered into the kitchen.
“Hi. You doing okay?”
“Sure.”
“How was the funeral?”
Mandi pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and pushed her hair back from her face. How was any funeral? Awful, of course. “It was nice,” she said.
“Oh, good. Do you want to come for dinner tonight?”
A home-cooked meal sounded wonderful, but she wasn’t at all interested in driving over there. She could get by on some eggs or a bowl of cereal. She’d made a point to buy milk on her last trip to the grocery store. “I don’t think so, Mom. I’m wiped out. And I’ve got to work tomorrow.”
“We could meet you somewhere over there,” her mother offered, though Mandi heard the hesitation in her voice. Her mother did not like to venture into the “dark side.” She’d been inside Mandi’s place maybe twice in the three years since Paige died.
“Thanks, Mom. But I think I’m going to pass. I need to get to bed early tonight. Maybe next Sunday.”
A heavy sigh came over the line. “All right. But be sure to eat something. Don’t push yourself. I’m sure your boss will understand if you go in late, or need to leave early.”
Mandi wasn’t so sure. Joe had been great so far, but still, he had a business to run, and he was already short a person. Besides, Mandi couldn’t afford to miss more work. If she didn’t work, she didn’t get paid.
“I’ll check in with you later,” her mother said.
“Okay. Bye.”
Mandi opened a Diet Coke and returned to her computer. She decided to go with the balancing-the-bad angle for her essay, and leave out her personal agenda. Honestly, she doubted the couple desperate for a baby really gave a damn about her reasons. They just wanted a baby. An hour later, she took a deep breath and pushed the submit button. It could be up to ten days before she got a response, according to the materials. She’d have to put it out of her mind.
She stretched out on the sofa and closed her eyes, but opened them immediately when the sound of shouts broke the silence. She sat up and listened. Sounded like they were coming from next door. Mandi opened her front door and peered outside. Sure enough, Maria’s angry voice carried through the air. Oh, man. Should she go over? Call? She’d never seen Maria or any of the kids with bruises, and they seemed basically happy. Still, she knew how fast things could change, especially if alcohol was involved.
Was the whole world going crazy? In her head she recounted the weeks and months that had passed by without any kind of drama. She’d gone about her business and stayed out of everyone else’s. That was the way she liked it. Quiet. Routine.
She took a deep breath, and closed the door with a soft snap. But as she leaned against it, her neighbor’s shouts clanged in her head. She hadn’t done enough to keep Brit safe, and she refused to make that mistake again. Whether they welcomed it or not, she had to intervene. In one quick move, she snatched up her phone and yanked the door open again.
A call would at least interrupt the argument, and maybe give them a minute to calm down. She pushed Maria’s number, and could hear the phone chime inside her neighbor’s trailer. The shouts stopped almost instantly, but it took four rings before Maria spoke into the phone.
“Hello?” came the sharp voice.
“Hey, Maria, it’s Mandi. Is everything okay? I don’t mean to interfere, but I heard some yelling. Do you need me to watch Dannie for a bit?” She heard Maria let out a tense breath.
“No. It’s all right.”
“Maria, you’d let me know if you were scared, right?”
“Of course. You’re sweet to call. I’m sorry we bothered you.”
Mandi tried to assess the tone of Maria’s voice. It sounded a little strained, maybe, but that was all. Could she mask fear that easily?
“You didn’t bother me,” Mandi told her. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Thanks, Mandi. I’ll talk to you later.”
Unsure what else she could do, Mandi ended the call. But she hovered near the door for a few minutes, listening. There was no more yelling.
**
Mandi’s stomach churned in the stillness of the office Tuesday morning. She arrived a few minutes early, forcing each step down the bank of cubicles. She purposely approached her workstation from the north side instead of the south to avoid walking past Brittney’s cubicle. Didn’t matter, though. She could tell from her side of the partition that Brit’s side was dark. Hugging herself around the middle, she stood in the center of her space. In the end, though, she couldn’t resist peeking over the wall.
The computer and chair sat in their regular positions, but all evidence of Brit was gone. Mandi blinked back tears and forced herself to look away. It was exactly what she expected. She sank into her chair and saw the note from Joe propped on her computer. He wanted to see her in his office. Hopefully just to touch base. She’d missed nearly two full days of work. Now, she wondered if those days would be unpaid, or whether they could be counted as sick days or vacation.
Joe stood outside his office speaking with his secretary when Mandi approached. He motioned to her, and ushered her inside, closing the door behind him. Mandi glanced around. None of the offices at DataPlus could be considered plush, but Joe’s left no doubt that he was part of the management team. The spacious room was dominated by a large wooden desk with a bookcase behind it, had nice padded chairs, and a real door.
“Have a seat, Mandi. How are you?”
She nodded. “Doing okay, thanks.”
“Good. Good.” Joe rubbed his hands together. “I know today’s gonna be rough on everyone.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve asked a couple of people to put in some extra hours to cover Brittney’s workload. But I have something else I want you to do.”
Mandi lifted her brows. “Sure.”
Joe leaned forward. “The other girls respect you, seem to see you as their leader.”
“Really?” Where in the world was this going? She uncrossed her legs and sat straighter.
“I want you to come up with something to get everybody back on track, brighten their spirits a little. It could be a party, a lunch, or a fundraiser of some sort in Brittney’s honor. Whatever you think would help give people some closure and pull everyone together, you know what I mean?”
Mandi realized the gist of it was to get the department refocused on work and keep up productivity. Still, it was a nice gesture. The other girls thought of her as a leader? That was interesting. Without even giving it any consideration, an idea popped into her head.
She regarded Joe a moment. She’d never really had much contact with her boss. Thought of him as a non-descript middle-aged man without a lot of personality. But as she looked at him now, the concern on his face touched her. He was a good guy.
“Okay,” she said. “You want to do this right away?”
“The sooner, the better,” Joe said.
“Uh-huh. Well, what would you think about bringing someone in to conduct a self-defense class? If we did it during the workday, everyone could participate. I know a lot of the gals who have kids have a hard time doing things like that on weekends and evenings.”
Joe sat back in his chair and twirled a pen, studying Mandi. Finally, he nodded. “That’s a good idea,” he said. “You look into it and let me know what you find out.”
“Is . . . is there a budget? Or would each person need to pay for the class themselves?”
Joe rubbed his jaw. “I’m sure we can arrange something. You find out how much it would cost, then we’ll figure out how to handle it, all right?”
“Okay.” Sensing that was the end of the discussion, Mandi stood. “Do you want me to do that today?”
“Definitely. Make the calls while you’re here. I don’t expect you to do it on your own time.”
She offered a tentative smile. “Thank you. I’ll keep you posted.”
With a bit more spring in her step, Mandi returned to her office and powered up her computer. After only a few strokes of her keyboard, several options flashed onto her screen. It took longer to make the calls, though. A steady stream of visitors stopped by. Some just wanted to check in and say hello. Others wanted to talk about Brittney. A few who’d been at the funeral pounced on Mandi with questions about Lane, but she refused to be diverted from her task.
Besides, she hardly knew what to say about Lane. She’d never connected with someone in such a short amount of time. There were all kinds of reasons for her to be attracted to him, of course. But what did he see in her? He told her at the park that she was ‘amazing.’ Mandi had a hard time getting her head around that concept. She wasn’t fooling herself, though. She wasn’t his type. He was just passing time. Could be he thought being nice to her was doing a good deed. Maybe he felt sorry for her. Or maybe he was tired of being so good, and having a little fling on the bad side of town appealed to him.
When Carlie tapped on her wall, Mandi forced her thoughts back to the present, and shared her plan.
“Sounds great,” Carlie said. “I can’t believe they’re going to let us do it during office hours. And for free? That’s awesome.”
Mandi agreed. So far, everyone liked the idea of a self-defense class. The more she talked about it, the more ideas she had. She added calling the police to her list, and some hardware stores to see if anyone would donate or give a discount on small pepper spray canisters.
She had to admit it’d been a smart move on Joe’s part. Concentrating on the project he’d given her, the day passed more quickly than she expected, and by the time five o’clock rolled around, Mandi had secured a promise for two dozen canisters, a commitment from the police department, and had price quotes from three programs. She left the building with a sense of accomplishment, and arrived at Jimmy’s with more energy than she’d felt in days.
Mandi smiled as Jimmy stepped out of the kitchen wiping his hands on his apron. “Hi, Jimmy. Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s it going?”
“Hey, Mandi. I want to talk to you a minute,” Jimmy said, his voice curt.
Mandi stared at him. Was she in trouble for something? That wasn’t a friendly greeting. “Sure,” she said. “What’s up?”
He leaned against the wall, regarding her with searching eyes. “That’s what I was going to ask you. What do you know about this guy Lane Whitmore?”
A warm flush spread over Mandi. What was this all about? Not knowing, she hedged. “Not too much, really. Why?”
“Gina says she’s seen you with him, and he’s been hanging around a lot.”
“I’ve talked to him a few times.”
“Told him anything about me or my place?”
“What?” Mandi crossed her arms. “Jimmy, what’s this about?”
“It’s about the city trying to get their hands on my property again. Run me out of business.”
“He doesn’t work for the city.”
“You sure about that? How do you know? You talked to the city?”
“Of course not. They’re trying to do redevelopment around here again.”
“And this guy’s part of it.”
“He’s an independent planner. Yeah, he’s working on a proposal. I know he’s been talking to people around–”
“Yeah, he’s been talking, that’s for sure. I hear he’s got people all around getting information for him. He’s banging some broad down at city hall.”
Mandi’s face flamed, but she tried to keep her composure. “Oh, bull. How would you know that?”
She remembered now that Lane was supposed to meet with Jimmy and the owner of the trailer park last week. Why hadn’t he filled her in? Obviously Jimmy wasn’t too happy.
“People like to talk,” Jimmy said.
“Yeah.” Mandi snorted. “They sure do. Whether they know what they’re talking about or not.”
Jimmy leaned toward her. “Listen, I want you to stay away from that guy. We don’t know him or what his agenda is. And I don’t want him using you for information. He can take his business somewhere else. Anybody tries to get information out of you, you tell ’em you don’t know.”
Mandi resisted rolling her eyes. “Jimmy, come on. What could I possibly tell anyone about you and your place, other than I work here?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t trust these monkey suits. They might hear one thing and turn it into something else. I’ve seen some shit go down before, you know.”
She decided placating him was the path of least resistance. “Okay, Jimmy, don’t worry. I’m not talking about your place to anyone.” She ran her thumb and finger across her lips. “Sealed,” she said. “Now, I think I better get to work before the boss catches me goofing off.”
Lane had said he’d be in tonight. Hopefully later for her break – after Jimmy left for the night. She couldn’t wait to find out about their meeting. Something had spooked Jimmy for sure. Not for a minute did she think Lane was messing around with someone down at city hall. He was too decent for that. Still, he had a lot more time on his hands than she did. What did he do on weeknights when she wasn’t around? She had no idea. And she had no proprietary claim on the man.
At eight-forty, Lane walked through the door and took the back booth. Mandi quickly finished taking an order for a table of other men. She turned in the order then whispered to Kendra, “Going on break. Can you deliver table three when it’s ready?”
Kendra slid a glance toward Lane and looked back at Mandi with raised eyebrows. “Sure.”
Ignoring the unspoken question, Mandi grabbed a sandwich, poured two cups of coffee and headed to the booth. This should be interesting. She couldn’t decide whether to come right out and tell him what Jimmy had said, or fish a little bit.
“Hey,” Lane said. “You look good. So you slept all right last night?”
“Yeah. Guess I was so tired, I went right to sleep.” To her surprise, and relief, she’d crashed hard.
“How was work?”
Mandi took a sip of the coffee and nodded. “Not as bad as I expected, actually.” She told him about her meeting with Joe and the self-defense class she was organizing.
“That’s a great idea, babe. Perfect.”
“At least it’s something useful,” she said. “I like that better than a party. This will benefit everyone.” Mandi squirmed in the seat and considered her next words. “Good thing you didn’t come in earlier.”
Lane’s eyes narrowed. “Why’s that?”
“Jimmy might’ve thrown you out.”
“Ah. Jimmy. Yeah, I don’t think he likes me very much.”
Understatement, Mandi thought. “I think you’re right. So tell me about that.”
Lane spread his hands. “What can I say? The guy’s paranoid. Thinks everyone’s after his land. Or trying to put him out of business. That’s the last thing the city wants. They need established business in here.”
“I know. He’s had some issues with the city over the years. The problem is, every time they try to make improvements around here, they reassess the land and decide it’s worth more, then the taxes go up. But the big influx of new customers never does materialize. This is a very big deal for Jimmy.”
“To put it mildly.”
“He thinks you’re in cahoots with the city.”
Lane’s eyes widened. “He said that?”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s B.S. I told him I work for myself.”
“Well, like you said, he’s kind of paranoid. The biggest problem is he’s so professionally constipated. He wants to be a businessman, but he doesn’t really know what to do, so he just sits on all this land. He’s scared to sell it because he’s afraid someone else will make money off of it, then he’ll look like a fool.”
“We could probably help him if he’d listen for a minute.”
Mandi shrugged. That was enough about Jimmy. Besides, she’d told him her lips were sealed. “I heard some other things too.”
Lane grimaced. “Uh-huh. Like what?”
She paused a minute to heighten his suspense. “Word on the street is, and I quote, that you’re banging some broad down at city hall.”
Lane sputtered coffee. “Where the hell did you hear something like that?”
“I have a tail on you,” Mandi said.
Lane leaned back, with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You have a blind person with an overactive imagination following me?”
Mandi bit back her own smile. “You deny said charges?”
“What if I plead the Fifth?” Lane countered.
“I’m afraid I’d have to impose a heavy sentence.”
“Such as?”
Mandi thought a minute. “Incarceration.”
“Hmmm. Sounds interesting.”
“Pure torture for you, buddy. Several nights confined to a trailer park.”
Lane laughed then, a warm chuckle that crinkled his eyes and made Mandi wish she didn’t have two more hours of work. And more work at eight o’clock in the morning.
“Listen,” Lane said. “I don’t know what Jimmy’s heard, but he’s rattled about this project. As far as I can tell, they’ve got some pretty serious federal grant money, and there are a lot of rumors flying around. For some reason, people are looking to make money off of this.” He met her eyes and pointed his spoon at her. “Including ol’ Bobby Boyd, your landlord.”
Mandi glanced around the diner. Kendra seemed to be handling the tables, but Mandi knew she’d want to leave on time. Break was almost over.
“Can you stay a while? When these people leave, maybe I can talk some more. I want to hear what Boyd had to say.”
“Got all night,” Lane said. His hand curled around her arm before she could move on, and his voice lowered. “And for the record, the only banging I’m doing down at city hall, is with my knuckles on a lot of doors.”
Mandi sucked in her breath as his eyes locked onto hers. She simply nodded, then hurried back to the counter. Before she drowned in those eyes. Before she forgot that Lane Whitmore did not belong to her.
Twenty minutes later, when her heart rate had returned to normal, Mandi stopped back at Lane’s table. “Okay, what’d he say?”
“I hate to tell you, babe, but he’s looking to sell. He wants commercial zoning and a higher price than a trailer park would bring, for sure. He was feeling me out pretty good, and I’m sure he’s talking to people. The man smells money.”
Mandi tapped on the table, her lips pursed. “He would, the tight ass. Never put anything into it, but wants to get a lot out of it. Tell you what, if he makes money, I should sue him. He got off way easy when Paige died.”
“I really don’t know how much interest there is in the land,” Lane told her.
Fiery eyes met his. “What are you putting in your proposal? Housing or commercial?”
He should’ve expected that question. She was sharp. Lane shook his head. “I honestly don’t know yet. I’ve got to sit down and review all the comments from people and the specs from the city, and start sketching out some ideas. That reminds me, I’m holding a town meeting over at the Methodist Church. One o’clock on Saturday. Can you come?”
Mandi shrugged. “I suppose so. Maybe I can get a few people to come with me. You said proposals are due June first. Then we have until the end of the year or so to try to convince Boyd not to sell?”
Lane ran a hand over his jaw. “Probably not quite that long.” He could see the wheels turning. Was she going to take on the trailer park as a personal crusade? That could be awkward. He reached out and touched her arm. “Listen, I know you want to save it, but it might be too late. With or without the redevelopment plan, I don’t think that place is going to survive.”
“Why not?”
“Boyd doesn’t want to invest any more money into it.”
“Can he just sell it out from under everyone without any warning?”
“I’m sure he’ll have to send out some kind of notification. But it might only be a thirty-day notice. You’d have to check the lease agreement. Do you still have your original documents?”
“I don’t know. But I bet I could find someone who does. I’ll ask Maria about it. Maybe we can protest somehow. Or talk to whoever buys it. If they’d fix it up a little, it wouldn’t be so bad.”
“You know, Mandi, if you’re planning to leave, does it really matter what happens to this run-down trailer park?”
Pink splotches dotted her cheeks, and her voice rose. “It’s not the trailer park, Lane. Don’t you get that? It’s the people. If that guy closes the trailer park and develops more expensive housing there, all of those people will get kicked out. What are they supposed to do?” She shook her head. “You’ll force them to move to an even worse area.”
Not for the first time, Lane was struck by her compassion for the people around there, the underdogs. “I get it, babe,” he said softly. “I just need you to keep reminding me.”