I can’t continue like this.

She walked to the bed and removed some clothes from her suitcase. As soon as she was dressed, she grabbed her cell phone. The police couldn’t or wouldn’t help her. Shaye was doing her best, but she was up against something she had no experience with. It was time to take the one action she’d been putting off.

“This is Patty,” the Realtor answered on the second ring.

“Oh,” Emma said, surprised that Patty answered. “Hi. This is Emma. I was going to leave you a message but looks like you’re up and going.”

“I keep trying to sleep in, but sometimes my body won’t cooperate.”

Instantly, Emma felt guilty for her earlier mental whining about being sore. Patty lived with far harder conditions, and it would only get worse, not better. “I got the name of a therapist from one of the other nurses. She has a niece with MS and says it’s really helped improve her gait.”

“Really? Thank you. I’m always willing to try new things. You never know what my body might respond to.”

“Well, let’s hope this therapist is one of those things that works.” Emma pulled the card from her wallet. “Let me give you her information. Can you write it down?”

“Sure. I’m at my desk. Go ahead.”

Emma read the business card, then rushed forward with the real reason for her call. “I want you to list the house now. I know I could make more on the sale if I did the improvements, but I don’t think I can live there long enough to manage everything. I need to move on. As soon as possible.”

“Of course you do. The way you’ve handled things has amazed me. Most people would have crumbled, but you’ve stayed strong and working.”

“Working is what’s kept me going.”

“I get that. I feel the same way. Don’t worry about the house. I have plenty of pictures that we took for the before and after. I’ll get the listing ready and will let you know as soon as it’s posted. I don’t think you’ll have to wait long for an offer. In fact, I expect you’ll have multiple offers. Will you be home later so I can drop by and get a key, or can I get it now?”

“Actually, I’m not home right now. I headed out early to take care of errands and I work this afternoon. Can we do it tomorrow?”

“Of course. Whenever you have the availability, let me know. I’ll hold off posting the listing until I get the lockbox on, but I’ll pass the information around my office and to a couple of clients of mine who are looking in the area. It might be sold before I get a key.”

“That would be awesome. Thanks, Patty. I’ll call you later today or tomorrow morning and let you know when we can meet.”

“Great. And thanks for the therapist information.”

Emma shoved the phone in her jeans pocket and grabbed her purse. Her stomach rumbled and she felt slightly dizzy. First things first, she needed to eat. She grabbed her laptop. While she was having breakfast, she’d start researching the market for nursing jobs in other states. Maybe she’d start with California. Or even Alaska.

Anywhere far away from Louisiana.

Chapter Fifteen

Jackson frowned at the two news vans parked in front of the police station. Men with cameras and wiring walked around, hooking up equipment. Two reporters he recognized from the morning news stood as assistants attached earpieces onto them. He drove past and parked around back and entered through the rear door. “What’s with the circus up front?” he asked the desk sergeant.

“Senator Archer’s daughter was attacked yesterday evening.”

“Corrine Archer? Is she all right?”

“Word is she’s pretty banged up, but not life-threatening.”

“Who’s lead?”

“Boyd got the call yesterday, but given the political angle, I’m sure it will be pushed up to a senior detective as soon as the chief is filled in.”

Jackson nodded. The sergeant was right. Pierce Archer was a senator and one of the richest men in the state. Nothing but the best would be good enough for his daughter’s investigation. Which left Jackson totally out of the running as long as he was saddled to Vincent.

The sergeant shook his head. “It’s a darn shame it happened to Corrine. She’s a class act. You know she’s a social worker, right?”

“Yeah. I met her daughter the other day. They seem like good people.”

“The best. Back in the day, Susan and I fostered kids. Too old for it now, but Corrine was a big support to us then.”

“Really?” Jackson’s respect for the old sergeant went up a couple more notches. “I didn’t know that. That’s a great thing to do. Not many can handle it.”

“We weren’t sure we could at first, but after a while, you learn how to manage things. We couldn’t have kids ourselves, but we ended up with some in the long run. Had eight over the years. Two of them we got to adopt. The other six are still in touch, though. All of them are doing good. Either in college or working decent jobs.”

“Can’t ask for much more than that.”

“No. If they’re paying their own way, not hurting other people, and not in jail, I consider them a success story. But then Susan always said I set the bar too low.”

“How can that be? You married her.”

The sergeant laughed. “I’m going to use that one on her next time she trots that statement out.” The phone rang and the sergeant reached for it. Jackson gave him a wave and headed over to his desk. A stack of paperwork awaited him—his and Vincent’s. Not that it mattered. It didn’t require much effort to document next to nothing, and that’s what Vincent specialized in.

Jackson reached for the first folder and brought up the database to start logging the information. He’d been at it an hour when he saw Sergeant Boyd cross the street, pausing long enough to weave through the reporters. Jackson watched as he entered the building and headed straight for the break room. He grabbed his coffee cup and headed that way, hoping to catch Boyd alone.

He was in luck. Boyd was pouring a cup of coffee and nodded at Jackson as he entered. He looked like he hadn’t slept well.

“I heard you got the call on Corrine Archer’s attack yesterday,” Jackson said. “Is she all right?”

Boyd took a drink of his coffee and nodded. “She’s banged up and has a slight concussion, but she should be able to go home today.”

“What happened?”

“Somebody faked a call to her office, claiming a baby was in distress. Corrine went to the location given, but the building was empty. When she realized she’d been tricked, she tried to get away, but he shoved her down the stairs, then gave her a good kick in the head. A couple of painters showed up to measure for the renovations and chased him off. They called 911 and I got the nod.”

Jackson shook his head. “I know social workers make enemies, but that seems rather elaborate.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Whoever did it was clever enough to close all the apartment doors and clean up the lobby and hallway enough to make it look occupied. On the surface, it looked like any other rathole apartment building that she might walk into. It wasn’t until she opened the doors and saw the apartments were empty that she realized something was wrong.”

“You heading the investigation?”

Boyd snorted. “No lowly sergeant is going to draw the investigation of the assault on Senator Archer’s daughter. I’m sure it will be kicked up today. You interested?”

“Wouldn’t matter if I was. Vincent won’t take real work unless he has to.”

“That’s true enough.”

“But I wish I could. I met Corrine’s daughter the other day. She’s a nice girl.”

Boyd nodded. “I talked with her some at the hospital last night. Seems a class act, like her mother. Maybe a little tougher. Has a bit of an edge to her.”

Jackson held in a smile. Corrine’s attack must have had Shaye off her game, because there was no “bit of” about her edge. Shaye’s edges were sharp enough to cut glass. “Well, hopefully, it’s wrapped up soon. The last thing we need is some loon targeting social workers. Hard enough to keep good people in those jobs to begin with.”