Race Against Time (7 page)

He sat back and lifted an ankle to rest on his knee. In control. Comfortable with the business of the situation.

“I need someone full-time, probably more than forty hours a week. Since you’re single, if you’re hired, I can offer you the one-bedroom cabin at the back of the property to live in. I need someone to live here to help keep an eye on things. We won’t take advantage of you being there, but it would add to your”—she made quote signs in the air—“‘benefit package.’” She looked into his eyes to see if he caught her joke, but he just seemed to be listening. With serious intent.

“Anyway, as you can tell, we have extensive property. One hundred and fifty acres total, with plenty of trail space to run the dogs. The kennel”—she pointed out the window—“the fenced-in area over there, takes up a good acre. We have seventy-five dogs at the present time, but that will be decreasing soon since two of the new litters are already sold.”

“Excuse me.” He cleared his throat. “Did you say seventy-five dogs?”

“Yes.” She watched the proverbial wheels turn.

“Wow.”

“Cleanup and feeding alone is a huge task.”

“An enormous undertaking, yes.” The first hint of uncertainty touched his features. “Would I handle cleanup and feeding?”

He was quick too. Seemingly unafraid of hard work. Not bad. Now to see if pretty boy passed the background check. “You would help me. You’d also watch over the kennel and dogs if I need to leave, help us train and run them, and assist at races. It would also be your responsibility to oversee the property and keep the trails in shape. A lot of it is trees and along the river, but we still keep the trails clear and watch out for anything that could potentially hurt us or the dogs.”

“Do you have other help?”

“I do. My daughter, Zoya, and I run the kennel together, and I normally have two or three part-timers who help out. Right now we have Joe, Beth, and Derek. Beth will be returning to the lower forty-eight soon, her grandmother is ill. That’s why I decided to bring on someone full-time again.”

“So you’ve had a full-time employee before?”

“Yes.” Anesia stood up and walked over to the window. She hadn’t anticipated this. She should have thought it through.

“Would you mind if I spoke to him or her to get a feel for the job? I’d like to be as prepared as possible.”

She turned to face him. No way around it now. “I’m sorry. But that’s impossible. Peter was killed last year.”

ZOYA

11:03 a.m.

My Bible sat open on my lap.

Nothing seemed to make any sense. No heavenly words of wisdom popped out on the page. No trumpet sounded.

No magnificent instruction came.

Nothing
.

I swallowed and focused on the words in front of me.

“Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders which You have done.”

Wonders? Like a murder was wonderful.

“
You, O LORD, will not withhold Your compassion from me; Your lovingkindness and Your truth will continually preserve me.”

Lovingkindness? Preserve me?

A little voice in the back of my mind started talking . . .

“He hasn’t done anything for you. He’s abandoned you. He didn’t protect you from those murderers. He didn’t help that man.”

My eyes shut.
No
. . . I would not let those thoughts take over. And yet, everything in me said to let the anger burn. To let God have a piece of my mind.

But why? The Bible said He was watching over me . . .

Why couldn’t I believe that?

I frowned down at the thick book.
And I thought you were supposed to be full of the truth . . .

I slammed it shut. Then walked over to the window.

Lovingkindness?

If You loved me, then why did You let this happen? If You’re a kind God, then why was that man murdered?

I tried to hold back the tears. Blinked.

What was I thinking? He was there.

Wasn’t He?

My squeezed eyelids did little to stop the flow of tears from escaping. One by one they fell.

Like bodies on a battlefield.

I may have failed Him, but
He
had abandoned me.
He
was the one that left, took off without warning. Left me behind to fend for myself. Couldn’t He see that I’d needed Him most right then and there? Did He know what kind of suffering I was going through?

Did He
want
me to go through this?

My brow furrowed. No, how could He? He was loving, kind, caring, devoted . . .

Or was I supposed to be the devoted one?

No! A strong shake of my head sent pain shooting through my shoulder, reminding me once again of the murder, of the images. Of the scars. Mute proof that God hadn’t watched out for me.

Or had He? I mean, I wasn’t killed, was I?

Ugh!

I flopped back onto my bed. Grabbed the blanket and held it against me. I needed to feel something . . . anything. Even if it was a soft
ts’ede’
. Or anger.

The bandage on my neck itched, hurt, was too tight. My wound hurt, burned. Just another reminder of the murder. Of that man . . .

Would those murderers come after me? Did they know who I was?

Of course not. How could they?

Stop it. Just focus.
Everything would be fine, I just needed to get back to normal.

If I even had a normal.

Stop it!
Focus. Focus. Focus.

It’s January 14. That gives me about two months until the big race. You can do it, Zoya.

But the more I did, the more questions rose within me.

God? Why did You take my dad away? Why did you let all those things happen to Andie and Auntie Jenna? Why haven’t You come again to take the sin out of the world?

Where was He?

My stomach knotted. Thoughts came flooding in. Memories. Emotions. Pain.

Andie in Uncle Marc’s arms. Andie playing with Uncle Marc.

Andie hugging Cole. Andie teasing Cole. Andie and Cole doing a craft. Andie and Cole laughing together.

Why did she get all the good stuff?

She had the faith. She had the dad.
Two
dads. How come she got two when I didn’t even have one?

I’d always believed God was my heavenly Father . . . but He was supposed to take care of me. Right?

It wasn’t fair. The tears kept building up. But I couldn’t let them escape . . . Mom didn’t need another thing to worry about.

It just isn’t fair!

I sniffed. I
would not
cry. Mom would hear. Try to talk me into spilling my guts. But she wouldn’t understand. She didn’t need more stress.

No. No crying.

I swallowed.
Why aren’t You here? I can’t feel You.

I stared at the Bible. Waiting. Searching.

Nothing.

I picked it up and threw it. Its thud against the wall made me wince.

But it felt good.

I did it again. Over and over. The spine tore. A chunk of 1 Timothy fell to the floor beside a few pages of Matthew and Job.

I let the tears fall. Bit my bottom lip, trying to hold back the sobs.

My Bible lay on the floor. Pathetic . . .

“Zoya? Are you all right?” Mom’s voice echoed up the stairs.

I poked my head out the door. “I’m fine.” Sasha sat like a sentinel and cocked her head at me. Blue eyes searching.

“I heard a bunch of thuds?”

She sounded worried.

Great.
Way to go, Zoya.

Whatever. “Yeah, that was um . . . just Sasha.” I dragged Sasha in and shut the door. Would Mom figure out my lie? Did it even matter?

My shoulders slumped. Why was I so angry?

I fell onto the bed and let every emotion simmer. Every tear fall.

God, what’s going on with me?

Sasha jumped onto the bed and whimpered. I wrapped my arms around her neck and buried my face in her fur.

The voice in the back of my head ranted:
“Don’t listen to Him!”

I jerked upward. Then picked up the tattered Bible and shoved it onto the top shelf of my closet.

Sasha barked. I sniffed and wiped my nose on my sleeve.
See if I care what that book of lies says.

Lovingkindness . . .

See if I care
.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SEAN

January 14

Naltsiine Kennels

11:09 a.m.

“Okay, Sean, I’m ready for you again.”

Sean turned to follow Anesia back into the office. He’d been pacing the hallway since she received a phone call that interrupted her explanation of how her previous full-time employee was killed.

“Sean, I’m so sorry for that interruption. It was my daughter’s doctor. If I hire you, I promise to explain everything in detail, but right now, well, it’s enough to say we’ve had some major things to deal with the last couple weeks.”

Sean sat down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Forgive me for asking, but is it financial?”

She waved a hand at him. “Heavens, no! Don’t worry about it.” She sat back in her chair. “Now, let’s get back to the interview.”

“Yes, Ms. Naltsiine.” He couldn’t blame her for brushing his question aside. He’d asked out of concern, but she probably thought he was worried she couldn’t afford to hire him.

“Anesia, remember? Now, what is your educational background?” She pulled out a pen and paper.

This could be awkward. He cleared his throat.

“Mr. Connolly, we don’t stand on ceremony here. There’s no need to be ashamed. Please, just be honest.”

Ashamed? Yes. But not for the reasons she thought. “I attended Harvard.”

Her gaze shot up at him, eyebrows raised. She stared him down for a moment and then wrote it down on her paper. “For how long?”

“Ten years. Bachelors, Masters, and Ph. D.”

She dropped her pen as her mouth fell open. Several seconds passed. Her mouth closed. And then opened again. “You mean to tell me that you have a Ph. D. and you’re asking
me
for a job?”

“Yes.”

Long dark lashes swept down on her cheeks in rapid succession as she blinked. But her eyes gave no hint to what she was thinking. “That’s interesting, Mr. Connolly. You do understand I will be doing a background check?”

“Of course.”

She blinked again. Several times. Then looked back down at her paper and wrote some more. “All right, then. What about work experience?”

“I’ve only worked for one company.”

“And that would be?” She continued writing.

“CROM, Incorporated.”

There went her eyebrows again. “
The
CROM? The multi-billion-dollar manufacturer?”

“That’s correct.”

She licked her lips and looked back down at her paper. “Interesting. What exactly did you do for them?”

“Do?” He stalled. Complicated didn’t even begin to describe the direction of this conversation.

“Yes, what was your title, your position with them?”

He straightened his shoulders.
Here goes nothing
. “I was a vice president, Miss Naltsiine.”

Anesia’s mouth closed again and her lips formed a thin, straight line. The pen in her hand made a slow journey down to settle on the desk as she tidied up in front of her. Each movement exact. Forced.

The chair rolled back and she pushed herself up to a standing position and leaned over, resting on her steepled fingers. “I know I asked you this before, but this time I’m serious. Are you running away from something, Mr. Connolly? In trouble with the law?” Her narrowed eyes were pure steel.

Sean didn’t flinch. “No. But I
am
starting over.”

“Might I ask why?”

“God wanted my attention, and He got it.” No need to say his family had taken a turn for the illegal. That would come out soon enough. He met her eyes. “I discovered I was being used for purposes that went against everything I believe in. So I left. What I want now is to find a job I love and work hard at it.”

Something flashed across her expression. Skepticism? Acceptance? He wasn’t sure.

“Mr. Connolly . . . Sean. I appreciate you sharing that with me. I don’t want you to think that I don’t believe you, but your story is a little uh . . . shall we say incredible? Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Not entirely, Ms. Naltsiine.”

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t very clear.” She sat down with a sigh folding her hands in front of her on the desk. “Your background is interesting, and your statement about your faith was refreshing to me. But please, understand that I can’t hire just anyone. I will not put my daughter at risk, or anyone else I welcome on my property.”

“I understand perfectly.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And you don’t want to change your story?”

“No, Ms. Naltsiine. It’s the truth.”

She hesitated a moment and narrowed her eyes. “Okay then. Well, maybe there is a solution to this problem.”

“Go ahead, I’m listening.”

“I have a friend with the FBI.” She shuffled a few papers and eyed him from the corner of her slit lids. “I’ll still need you to sign this form for a regular background check.” A paper and pen slid in front of him.

“I’m a bit confused. What exactly are you proposing?”

“I’m going to call him and check into your story.” A pause rested between them.

Was she waiting for him to tell her something different?

“Do you mind?”

Was she trying to scare him? Threaten him?

“Not at all. I have nothing to hide.” He hoped his quick response would portray he was unafraid of her finding anything. But deep down, he knew there was plenty he kept hidden.

“Good.” She stood. “Thank you for your time today. I’ll give you a call.”

And with that, he was dismissed.

ANESIA

January 14

8:00 p.m.

The living room floor took the ferocious pounding of Anesia’s feet with not a creak or a groan. “I just don’t get it. Why would someone like that come looking for a job here?”

Cole and Jenna sat on the couch saying nothing and watching her pace in front of them. As if it would be dangerous to their health at this point to interject anything. She cringed. Was she that bad? “Come on, guys. I need your input.”