Page 15 of Trapped (Sheppard & Sons Investigations #6)

Ashley

“ G ran I—” A thud from the kitchen interrupted me. “What the hell?”

I raced to the kitchen to see Prince sitting on the counter, licking a paw. On the floor in front of him was my bottle of vanilla creamer, creating a puddle as it spilled out of a crack in the plastic bottle.

“Stupid cat.” I grabbed the roll of paper towels and got down on my hands and knees to clean the mess off the brown marbled floor tiles.

I spent extra time to make sure it was clean and dry so Gran wouldn’t slip.

After cleaning the cat’s mess and finishing my cold breakfast, I left to meet with John, Mary, Blake, and Emily about the Wyatt Foundation.

“Bye Gran. Don’t let that cat destroy the house while I’m gone.” I half-joked.

“He’d never. He’s a good boy.” She scratched his head between his ears. “Aren’t you?”

Gran and I had drastically different opinions of what defined a good boy. But I wouldn’t win any arguments with her, so I left.

During the short drive, I considered the challenges of working as a contractor. Redesigning the foundation’s social media sites and making them work seamlessly with the new website would be easy. It was the business part of contracting that’d be hard.

I was grateful for the opportunity to help the foundation grow and eventually help a lot more people, and it’d be fun working with Emily.

I was already thinking of myself as part of the team. I’d do the work for free if I wasn’t struggling.

I turned onto the main street where Grannie’s was located, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

I’m being watched . Only that made zero sense; I was driving.

Unless. I glanced in the rearview mirror.

Was that the same black car from Gran’s street?

Were they following me? I should’ve paid closer attention when I pulled out of the driveway, but then again, why would I?

It wasn’t like I expected someone to follow me.

I grabbed my phone out of my purse, ready to call 9-1-1.

It’s probably a coincidence. No need to overreact.

“John always says to trust your instincts,” I said to no one.

When I pulled into the parking lot across the street from Grannie’s, the car kept going.

If they were following me, they would have pulled in too. Right?

I convinced myself it was nothing. Using the mirror on my visor, I touched up my lip gloss to buy myself a few seconds and calm my nerves.

If I walked into Grannie’s nervous, John would notice.

He was a former county cop and detective; I’d never be able to fool him.

And like his sons, he’d want to help. Technically, they were like him; he’d raised them to be kind, generous, and protective men.

People watching a tennis match turned their heads less than I did as I crossed the street to Grannie’s. I felt like an overreacting idiot. Plastering a smile on my face, I opened the door, setting off the bell.

“Morning, Ashley,” Mary greeted me.

After a round of hugs, we settled down.

“Are you okay?” Mary asked. I saw John’s eyebrow raise before I shifted my focus to Mary.

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re fidgeting.”

Crap.

“Just excited to join the team,” I lied, avoiding eye contact with John.

It occurred to me he’d probably heard all about his new employee and me making a scene here a few days earlier. I didn’t think he’d bring it up, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t nervous he might.

She nodded. “We’re happy you’re here. Though I’m sorry you lost your job.”

“Thanks, I’m sure I’ll find something soon.” The confidence in my voice shocked me.

“You and Emily should open your own business,” Blake suggested.

“Maybe someday.” I smiled at Emily.

Blake didn’t know we’d just had this conversation, and that the idea was on hold because of Emily’s pregnancy.

A problem I might have, too. Though Emily didn’t think of her impending motherhood as a problem.

Beth set an iced vanilla latte in front of me.

Beth Wyatt was the first recipient of The Wyatt Foundation funds, before it was a foundation.

When John and Mary decided to create a foundation, they named it in honor of Beth’s late husband, a cop who worked with John and died in the line of duty.

Beth was on the board of directors but wouldn’t be joining us today.

“Thanks, Beth.” If I sipped slowly enough, I might not finish it.

She smiled. “Thanks for helping.”

“It’s an honor.”

“Let’s get started,” John said.

John and Mary explained what they hoped to achieve and what my role would be in helping them. The foundation was originally just for local recipients in Parker County, but it’d grown so much they wanted to include the adjacent counties this year.

“We’re not expanding much this year, but we’re adding two scholarships, thanks to Blake.” Blake blushed and looked down. She’d donated fifty thousand dollars to fund the scholarships for kids who needed help with college tuition.

“We’d like to include all of Texas next year or the year after, and add more scholarships if we can,” John added.

It was ambitious, but given the foundation’s growth in three years, I thought the goal was attainable.

Emily’d redesign the website, and I’d update and run their social media accounts. Hearing them say they wanted me to maintain it was a relief; it meant a steady paycheck, even if it was small.

“How many hours a week do you think you’ll need?” Mary asked.

She had a Facebook page for Grannie’s, but rarely posted.

As a local and tourist favorite, customers posted more than she did.

SSI had a website, recently updated by Emily, but no social media presence.

Which meant that neither John nor Mary understood what it took to grow a business via social media.

Which is why I’m here .

“It depends on how many media sites and what kind of engagement you want, and how fast you want to grow.” Steady, focused engagement would grow the foundation faster, but it’d still take time.

Mary looked at John, then at Emily. “We have no idea.”

“Why don’t you draw up a proposal with the different levels of service, and your rates, and we’ll go from there,” John suggested.

“When do you want the proposal?” I asked.

Ideas flooded my mind as I thought of different ways I could engage the audience with regular posts, features, livestreams, and recipient followup interviews.

Creating content was easy. It was the business aspect that I’d struggle with. My boss always did that part. Look on the bright side; it’s good experience for when we start our company.

“If I may?” Blake asked.

“Of course,” Mary answered.

“Ashley, can you include market research on which sites would best serve a nonprofit as well?” Blake asked. Fresh out of law school, Blake understood social media better than the Sheppard parents.

“Of course. Do you know your target audience? Having the demographics of your biggest donors would help too.”

“I’ll send it by the end of the day,” Blake answered as she jotted down notes on her yellow legal pad. Blake hadn’t been with the foundation long, having only passed the bar a few weeks ago, but it was clear she’d done her homework and was in her element.

“I don’t have any more questions,” I said as we wrapped up. “When would you like the proposal?” I asked again, because we’d moved off topic before anyone had answered.

“How about a week from today? We’ll meet here next Thursday,” Mary said. “Does that work for you, John?”

He pulled up the calendar on his phone. “I’m free before eleven.”

“Will nine work?” I asked, hoping they wouldn’t want to meet earlier. I hated not having a job, but loved sleeping in.

After we agreed, I hugged the girls goodbye.

Mary held me a little tighter than usual and whispered, “I’m here if you want to talk.” Of course, she’d noticed I wasn’t myself.

“Thank you. I’m fine. Really.” I lied.

When I walked out the door that I saw the black car. No, a black car. You’re being paranoid. There were millions of black cars, so the chances of it being the same one were slim to none.

My nervous system didn’t believe me, but a quick look around and I saw four other black cars. I couldn’t have picked one from the others in a police lineup.

Forcing myself to walk casually, I made it to my car, tossed my bag onto the passenger seat, and slammed the door behind me. I heard John’s voice in my head “Always lock your doors.”

I hit the lock button before starting the engine. To avoid the street where I saw the car, I used the exit on the opposite side of the lot.

Not caring if I seemed paranoid, I checked the rearview mirror to make sure no one followed me.

Prince greeted me at the door. “Hey shithead, where’s Gran?” I asked as I leaned down to scratch his head. “Please tell me you didn’t destroy anything else today.”

He swished his tail and trotted down the hall.

“In the kitchen,” Gran answered. “You got flowers.”

“Who sent them?” I asked, half hoping they were from Nathan.

“There’s no note.” Bummer, I thought as I entered the kitchen.

What the fuck! Someone sent me black roses in a crystal vase.

Fucking Red Flag Finn. Who else would send me black roses?

I should call Jamie. The roses themselves weren’t a big deal, but I wanted an official record if things escalated.

Meg answered on the second ring. “Sheppard and Sons Invest—”

“Hey Meg, it’s Ashley.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, no. I don’t know.” I sighed. “Is Jamie available?”

“He’s in a meeting.”

“What about Jack or AJ?” Really, anyone not named Nathan would do.

“I’ll put you through to Jack.”

Soft music filled the line while I waited.

“Hey Ashley, what’s wrong?”

“Someone sent me black flowers, without a note.”

“You think they’re from Finn?”

“Probably. Who else would send them?”

“Who delivered them?”

“I don’t know. They came while I was at Grannie’s. Hold on.” I held the phone away from my ear before asking, “Gran, did you talk to the delivery person?”

“No, they knocked on the door, but were gone before I answered. The vase was sitting on the top step.”

“Jack?”

“Yeah. I heard. I’ll be right over,” Jack said.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I’ll see you in a few minutes. Don’t touch the vase or the flowers.”

Too late . I’d already touched both, so had Gran.

“Do you think they’re poisoned?”

Jack chuckled. “You watch too many crime shows, Ashley. I’m hoping we can lift prints.”

“Right, right.” Probably not poisoned.

“I’ll be right there.” He hung up.

“If we can’t touch them, you can’t eat them,” I said, pulling Prince off the counter before he could chew on the petals or knock the vase on the floor.