she pulled the copy off and handed it to him.
âWhy does she want to do that?â He folded up the paper and put it in his jacket pocket. He couldnât deny heâd wanted to know more about her, but now he wasnât sure he cared.
âThatâs not my story to tell, but for a young girl, sheâs had a difficult life.â
âA lot of people have tough times but donât act like that,â he said as he made for the door. He pushed open the door and paused.
âDetective, try not to give up on her.â Stella leveled her eyes in his direction, almost pleading.
âToo late for that.â He closed the door without looking back.
Chapter Three
A week passed, and Mavis didnât have any additional encounters with Weston. That should have pleased her, but instead, remorse poked at her. She didnât like it. Thoughts of him kept creeping into her mind. In a weak moment, she even dialed the police station intending to apologize, but hung up before anyone answered. She didnât want to open the door she had so vehemently slammed shut on any chance of a connection with him. Deep down she was attracted to him, and that made him dangerous. She had nothing to offer him. No. Sheâd decided long ago she had to be alone, and she was. She was downright lonely. This is how it has to be.
A tear hung on the lashes in the outside corner of her eye. If she was honest with herself, her severe reaction to him was pure self-preservation. Sheâd built a safe room around herself and wasnât going to let anyone in. It only brings pain when you start caring about someone and then you lose them, and in her mind you always lose them.
âHe got to you,â Stella said, leaning on the reception desk, and Mavis jumped in her chair, covering her heart with her hand as it lurched in her chest. The sun was setting, and the building had cleared out of prospective adopters. Mavis enjoyed the time right after closing, when the place took on a tranquil energy. Even the animals had settled for the night.
âLand sakes, woman, I didnât see you there,â she said, taking a slow, deep breath.
âThatâs obvious. You were long gone.â
âWho got to me?â Mavis asked, flipping another page of her celebrity news magazine.
âUh-huh. If thatâs how you want to play this, fine. Itâs your bed â you lie in it,â Stella said. She walked to the open timber staircase in the center of the lobby. Her hand rested on the whimsical woodland railing. âIâm going to my office to grab my purse, and Iâm heading home to someone who actually listens to my advice.
âHey, Stella,â Mavis called after her. âBefore you go home to bestow all your worldly advice on George, I have a favor to ask.â
Stella stopped halfway up the stairs to look back at her.
Mavisâs hands moved into prayer pose. She fluttered her lashes. âCan you come in a bit early tomorrow? Pretty please.â
âWhatâs up?â Stella asked.
âI talked to the vet about Lucyâs condition.â Lucy was a bloodhound that had developed a raging infection after being shot by a BB gun and dumped on their property a few days earlier. As of that morning, her temperature had spiked, and she was no longer eating or drinking, causing her to become dehydrated and weak. âBecause of the decline in her condition, Iâm staying here tonight to take care of her. Iâve got her on I.V. fluids and a huge dose of antibiotics â if she doesnât turn soon, Iâm just not confident sheâs going to make it. If something happens, I donât want her alone.â
âNot a problem. I planned to offer and stay myself, but Iâll do tomorrow night if itâs needed.â
âPerfect. If I donât see you before you go, have a good evening,â she said, looking back to her magazine again. After reading the same paragraph for