Page 28 of Out of Time (Undaunted Courage #3)

Natalie circled the desk. Opened the top drawer, where the journals were stored. Ran her finger down the spines of the stack.

“They’re all here, exactly as I left them. I don’t know why Lydia would have an interest in these, anyway, since no one but me can read them.” She closed that drawer and leaned farther down to pull out the one below. “Hmm.”

“What’s wrong?” Cara edged closer and peeked into the drawer. It contained what appeared to be albums of some sort. Two of them.

“These have been disturbed.”

“What are they?”

“My father’s stamp collection. He was an avid philatelist. Made quite a study of the subject.

Through the years he amassed an enviable collection.

I never had much interest in the hobby, but since his stamps meant a great deal to him, I’ve left them in his desk all these years.

On occasion, when I’m missing him, I take one out and page through it.

I always feel as if he’s watching over my shoulder when I do that.

” She stroked a gentle hand across the cover of the first one, where the name Robert Boyer was embossed in gold.

“How do you know they’ve been disturbed?”

“The stamp tongs and magnifying glass are out of position. They’ve fallen down beside the albums. I always leave them on top, as Papa did.

” She removed the albums one by one and set them on the desk.

“I’ll look through these. I’m not suspicious by nature, but I also don’t believe in turning a blind eye to behavior that raises red flags.

Thank you for alerting me to this, Cara. ”

“I hope it comes to nothing.”

“I do too. Lydia’s been a reliable housekeeper for several years.”

“What did you think about her brother, if I may ask?”

Natalie shrugged. “I wasn’t impressed. He may be a hard worker, but he didn’t strike me as a go-getter, or the sort of person I’d want to call a friend. An interim fix at best, I’d say.” She rested a hand on the albums. “I do hope I don’t find anything amiss inside.”

“Me too.” Cara lifted her tablet. “Now it’s back to work for me.”

“I’ll see you at dinner, my dear.” The woman settled behind the desk.

When Cara looked back from the doorway, Natalie’s head was bent over the first album.

She continued down the hall and out the door, locking it behind her.

It was Natalie’s decision, of course, but in her benefactor’s shoes she’d be nervous about keeping someone around who snooped into private areas.

And despite Lydia’s excuse, she had been snooping. Cara knew that as surely as she knew the cold days of winter would soon follow this lingering interlude of fall warmth.

Strange how she’d initially been concerned about Micah, who’d turned out to be a gentle soul with a soft spot for animals, when someone who’d seemed far more innocuous might end up being much less trustworthy.

Or not.

Depending on what Natalie found—or didn’t find—in the albums.

“I THOUGHT IT WENT WELL. What do you think?”

As her brother maneuvered his truck down the long gravel drive from Natalie’s house back to the road, Lydia curled her fingers into a ball on her lap.

No, it had not gone well.

Just the opposite.

In fact, unless Lady Luck decided to smile on her, all of her plans may just have gone up in smoke.

Why, oh why, had the professor forgotten her tablet today of all days? And why had she come into the study at the exact wrong moment?

Lydia mashed her lips together.

Half a minute later, the drawer would have been shut and she’d have been sitting on the couch, the stamp tucked in her purse, no one the wiser.

Instead, Cara Tucker had shown up seconds after she’d stashed the prize and was putting the album back.

If only the gift of a silver tongue hadn’t passed her by. It was obvious the professor hadn’t bought her stumbling attempt to—

“Hey. Are you listening to me?” Randy sent her an annoyed glance and turned on the radio.

A country-western tune blasted through the cab.

Her head began to pound, and she reached over and punched the dial.

Blessed silence descended.

“What’s with you?” Randy glared at her.

“I have a headache, okay?”

“You were fine on the drive out here.”

Not exactly fine, since she’d been less than thrilled about the idea of him working here even part-time. But if that bought her another week or two to wheedle her way into a live-in position with Natalie, she’d have sucked it up.

However, the incident in the study aside, the brief exchange she’d witnessed between him and Natalie before Natalie asked to speak with him alone hadn’t been promising.

As far as she was concerned, her brother had bombed the interview with his tendency to brag and blow his own horn.

Natalie would have seen through all that, and she wouldn’t have been impressed.

Bottom line, his chances of getting the job were lower than a snake’s belly.

And at this point, so were her chances of keeping the job she had.

Lydia closed her eyes. Swallowed.

Her one foray into a life of crime, and this was how it ended.

“Are you sick?” Randy actually sounded concerned.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Sick at heart, if nothing else.

“Roll down your window.” He opened his as he spoke.

“Why?”

“We gotta let the germs out. I can’t afford to get sick. I don’t have any sick days left for this year.”

So his concern was self-centered.

Surprise, surprise.

She lowered her window, leaned back against the seat, and angled her head to watch the passing scenery.

Nothing much to see except trees with heat-parched leaves that were waiting to drop at the first sign of frost. Spent and hanging on by a thread.

Kind of like she was, with all her plans to leave Randy’s place for cushier digs collapsing around her.

Because Natalie would discover the missing stamp. If not today, soon.

And there would be only one suspect.

Of course, admitting the theft would be stupid. Just like it would be stupid to admit she’d spiked Natalie’s wine with Ambien. And Lydia Foster wasn’t stupid. No one would ever be able to prove she’d done either of those things.

Unless the sheriff checked the stamp album for fingerprints.

Her stomach kinked.

Would he do that?

Maybe, if Natalie reported the stamp missing and the professor said she’d seen the housekeeper looking in the desk.

She’d have to get rid of the fingerprints. Fast.

But that wouldn’t erase the suspicion.

Meaning that come tomorrow, she might not have a job or a place to live. All she’d have was the two grand that had been bid on the stamp in her purse. But that would be a one-off. The stamp well had dried up.

The scene before her blurred, and she sniffed. Swiped at her lashes with the back of her hand.

Her life was a train wreck.

“Are you getting a cold?” Her brother scowled at her. “I told you, I don’t want no germs.”

“No, I’m not getting a cold.”

But a cold would be much, much easier to deal with than the mess she’d made of her life.

Unless she could figure a way out of her bleak situation before tomorrow.