LITMIR.BIZ

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with news of the donation. It was all anyone had talked about ever since the press release had hit the wire. Kerri swallowed back the knot of guilt in her throat and kept weaving Amber’s hair.

      Lying to the town was a repercussion she hadn’t thought through. Everyone was so excited by the prospect of the lab opening up again.

      She didn’t want to hurt these people. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She’d been so intent on simply getting the funding for Dr. Wallace that she hadn’t considered there were other lives on the line. If Nathan King didn’t come through…

      He had to, she reminded herself. Just that morning there’d been an article in the Seattle paper about how Nathan’s charity work should be considered when it came to giving him the zoning he wanted. If he was exposed as a man who went back on his word, maybe he wouldn’t get his towers. Of course, if she were exposed as a liar and a fraud, he might get the sympathy vote.

      “Hey, Mom.”

      She turned and saw Cody at the front of the salon. Most days she tried to be done before he got out of school, but Thursdays she worked late.

      “Hey, kiddo. How was your day?”

      “Okay.”

      Cody balanced on his crutches. Kerri was pleased to see that the new style, with the bracing around his forearm, seemed to be helping his balance. That and the fact that she’d finally cleaned out his backpack. It had gotten so heavy, she’d been afraid he would fall on his back like a turtle and be unable to get up.

      “Be right back,” Kerri told Amber, then crossed to her son.

      Cody was on the short side for his age group—not a surprise, considering his condition—but smart, with that emotionally mature edge sick kids seem to get. At nine, he’d reached the point where he was uncomfortable being kissed by his mom in public. Kerri had yet to reach the point where she didn’t care.

      “Math test,” she said as she pulled him close and dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head. “Tell me you kicked fraction butt.”

      “They’re all totally kicked,” he said as he squirmed away, then smiled at her. “I missed one.”

      “One? One? Oh, man. I have to disown you now.”

      “Leave me on the curb for some stranger to take me away?” he asked with a grin.

      “Absolutely. Someone who doesn’t care about kids who aren’t perfect. You missed one. I may never recover from the disappointment.”

      “Spaghetti with garlic bread.”

      She opened her eyes wide. “Excuse me? Young men who miss one question on their math tests do not get to demand things like spaghetti with garlic bread for dinner.”

      “It was an A, Mom. You know missing one is still an A.”

      “Are you kidding? An A? What is this world coming to? I’m appalled. And you know how I get when I’m appalled.”

      She reached for him. He ducked away, but the crutches hindered him. Kerri dove in and began tickling him. She was careful to stay away from his ribs. Like all his bones, they were fragile.

      He giggled and squirmed, then relaxed in her arms.

      “I’ll make spaghetti,” she murmured into his hair. “Then we’ll tackle the spelling words. You’ll wait for me at Brandon’s?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “Good. Try to keep Tiger out of that tree, okay? I’m on a Wonder Mom break for the next couple of days.”

      Cody looked up at her. “I will, Mom. See you later.”

      She was supposed to let him go and she would…in a second. But staring into his eyes like that, she was reminded of Cody’s father. Cody was so much like her late husband. It was a unique combination of pleasure and heartbreaking pain.

      “Be good,” she said.

      He nodded and left the salon.

      “DON’T BE STUPID,” Jason Hardy said. “I’m telling you this based on my personal experience as your lawyer. You pay me three hundred dollars an hour for that experience, Nathan. So listen.”

      “I’m listening.”

      “No, you’re not. If you were still listening, you’d be back in the city. Instead you’re driving up I90 by yourself. I don’t want you confronting that woman alone.”

      “That woman” was one Kerri Sullivan. A single mom and hairdresser. Nearly every detail of her insignificant life was listed in the folder next to him on the passenger seat of his Mercedes.

      She’d been an average student in high school, a cheerleader. Her parents had been killed when she’d been fairly young and she’d been raised by her maternal grandmother. She’d gone to community college, but had dropped out after less than a year to go to beauty school. She’d met and married Brian Sullivan. Brian had been in the army and died when his truck had overturned. Eight and a half months later, she’d given birth to her only child.

      Cody Sullivan, age nine. His Gilliar’s Disease had been diagnosed when he’d been five. He’d lived longer than most and was only now entering the truly degenerative stage.

      In the past four years Kerri had lived in Texas and Minnesota. She supported them by working in beauty salons. Her location choices weren’t random. She moved to where the research was being done. She’d run out of options, until she discovered Dr. Abram Wallace’s work in Songwood. She’d moved there three months ago.

      “I won’t let her blackmail me,” he told Jason. The built-in speakerphone in his car picked up his low voice.

      “So what are you going to do? Threaten her? That’s my job, and let me say, for the record, I resent you trying to take the fun out of it.” Jason sighed. “I mean it, Nathan. You’re going to get angry and say some things you shouldn’t.”

      “She thinks she’s trapped me. She thinks I can’t back out because I’ll look bad. Who the hell does she think she is?”

      “A desperate mom?” Jason asked. “You have nothing to say to her.”

      “I’m going to make her stop. No one holds me hostage.”

      “You’re going to make the situation worse. You have a very competent staff. We want to do our job. Let us deal with her. You don’t need any more negative publicity.”

      “I want her ass in jail,” Nathan muttered.

      “Not going to happen. Let’s imagine that headline. She’s got the sympathy factor. I don’t like what she’s doing, either, but let’s be logical.”

      Logic? Nathan wasn’t interested. Whether it was a well thought-out plan or just dumb luck, Kerri Sullivan had gotten plenty of play from her bogus statement. He’d actually been contacted by someone at the research facility in Songwood, asking about the particulars for the donation. They were, she’d informed him, ready to begin hiring. Two other parents of kids with Gilliar’s Disease had also tried to get through to him. Just to thank him, their messages had said.

      “How the hell does one hairdresser get all this done?” he demanded.

      “She’s got balls,” Jason said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

      “Remember whose side you’re on,” Nathan told him.

      “You don’t have to remind me. Being on your side is the reason I’m telling you to turn around and come home. Let me handle her.”

      Nathan grimaced. “You’re breaking up,” he said into the perfectly clear connection. “I’ll call back when I’m on my way down the mountain.”

      “Dammit, Nathan. Don’t you hang up. And don’t do anything either of us will regret.”

      Nathan disconnected

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