Chapter 17 #2
Swallowing hard, Amanda grabbed a bra, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt from the pile and turned her back on the bedroom.
She changed in the hallway and, still fighting tears, went back into the main living area.
Her phone and laptop were sitting on the table where she’d left them earlier.
She grabbed her phone, shoved her feet into a pair of flip-flops, grabbed her purse, and picked up Rain’s leash that was still attached to his collar.
The dog had followed her from room to room, staying right by her side. He was a comfort for sure. Amanda wasn’t certain what she would’ve done without him by her side.
Her first inclination was to call Nash. But what was he going to do?
He was at work. He couldn’t come running home every time she needed something.
She wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t in jail. Nothing had happened to her person.
Had she been inconvenienced? Yes. Had she been a little scared?
Also, yes. But this experience was nothing like what she’d been through not too long ago.
She’d be fine. She just needed some air. To get away from the apartment for a while.
Rain jumped into the backseat of her Volvo and as soon as she got in the driver’s seat, he rested his chin on her shoulder. Reaching back and giving his head a pat, Amanda pulled out of the parking lot and drove off.
Eventually, she found herself at a park on the other side of the city. It had large trees and a huge open space where people could run around, or lie in the sun if it was a warm day, or even play a game of Frisbee or something.
It was silly to continue driving. She had no idea who’d given the DEA the “tip” that there were drugs in her apartment.
It didn’t make sense. She didn’t interact with a ton of people, and since she wasn’t working yet, she didn’t have anyone she spoke to on a regular basis who even knew where she lived.
The only people she interacted with were Nash and his friends.
And she didn’t think for one second that any of his fellow pilots, or Laryn, would’ve done such a vile thing.
She’d been racking her brain for most of the drive.
It could’ve been one of her neighbors. A few of them knew she was going to South America.
Maybe they were upset she was back. Maybe one of them had been hoping she’d stay gone so they could have her apartment.
It had the best view…but she honestly couldn’t see anyone doing such a thing, especially over something ridiculous like an apartment.
This felt like harassment, plain and simple.
The agents knew she’d been in Guyana, specifically…so someone had to know her fairly well to be able to communicate that to the authorities, maybe even give them other reasons to check out their “tip.”
Taking a deep breath, she got out of her car and opened the back door for Rain.
He’d been cooped up for a while now. This park was a great opportunity for him to run, to stretch his legs.
She wasn’t afraid he’d disappear, Rain had been glued to her side ever since he’d found them in the jungle.
He knew he had a good thing going, and she highly doubted he’d run off now.
But when she encouraged him to run around, he sat at her feet and stared up at her.
“It’s okay, Rain. I’m all right. You can go play.”
Rain didn’t budge.
Sighing, Amanda walked over to one of the picnic tables situated at the edge of the huge open space. The park was nice. She’d never been here before, it was a little far from her apartment, but it granted her the peace and quiet that she needed to think.
She climbed up and sat on the tabletop and propped her feet on the bench, staring into space as she did her best to work through what had happened.
She desperately wanted to talk to Nash, but she didn’t want to be a clingy girlfriend.
She wasn’t hurt. Wasn’t really threatened. Just embarrassed and confused.
She’d tell him tonight for sure. Wouldn’t have a choice; the second he walked into her apartment, he’d know something was up, considering its state.
The more she thought about it, about who might’ve called in the so-called tip the DEA had received, the more Amanda couldn’t shake a particular suspicion.
A sick feeling welled up inside her…
Could the tip have come from the very people she’d thought were her friends down in Guyana? Were they upset that she’d left? Did they know she hadn’t had a choice? That Blair had basically kicked her out?
But what good would lying about her to the DEA do? She was gone. They could be mad or upset, but nothing that happened to her in the States would ultimately have any effect on them or the school.
Unless…
She didn’t want to believe it. But it was literally the only thing that made sense.
The only person who might want to discredit her, might want to smear her reputation, was the one person who knew she wanted to adopt two of the children at the orphanage. Proving Amanda was unstable or unsuitable to be a mother would be the perfect way to kill any adoption application.
Was it a huge leap to think that Blair might’ve had something to do with this? Not really. She had more connections than the rest of the workers and volunteers. And she certainly hadn’t been happy when Amanda told her that she might want to adopt Bibi, the little girl Blair seemed so attached to.
Suddenly, anger replaced the uncertainty and confusion. She had no proof Blair had done anything, but there was no one else who had a reason to get the freaking DEA to knock on her door and search her place.
Pulling her cell out of her pocket, Amanda decided she was going to confront the woman. She probably wouldn’t admit anything, that she’d been the one to contact the DEA, but at least she’d know that Amanda was on to her and maybe she’d think twice about doing something like that again.
She had Blair’s office number saved in her contacts, and she clicked on it, eager to see if her suspicions were correct.
The phone rang four times, but it wasn’t Blair who answered.
“Desmond Williams.”
“Desmond? It’s Amanda. Why are you answering Blair’s phone?”
“Thank you for calling, and for your interest in our school. Yes, we can always use donations.”
Confused, Amanda said, “Did you hear me? It’s Amanda Rush. I’m calling from the States.”
“I can hear you just fine. And yes, blankets would always be welcome. As would food. Anything that is nonperishable is best.”
Something was wrong. Way wrong. It was obvious he didn’t want someone to know she was on the other end of the line. Blair? Was she in the same room, listening to the call?
“I’m calling because the Drug Enforcement Agency came to my apartment today, saying they got a tip that I’d brought a bunch of cocaine into the country. They also knew I’d recently come from South America. Do you know anything about that?”
“I don’t. But I’m not surprised. You can come by anytime with those donations. We’d be happy to have them.”
“Was it Blair? What’s going on, Desmond?
” Amanda was frustrated. And alarmed. Something was happening, and she obviously couldn’t get any answers from Desmond because of whoever was listening to his conversation.
“Are the kids okay?” she asked, suddenly needing to know that more than she needed intel about what had happened with the DEA.
“Yes. The kids are wonderful. Happy and healthy, thanks to donations like yours.”
Relief made Amanda feel dizzy.
“I must go now, but we appreciate your interest in donating. We are a small organization and need all the help we can get.”
“If you can call me later, please do,” Amanda said quickly. “I’m worried.”
Desmond hung up without responding.
Amanda had resisted calling Nash earlier, but after that phone call, she didn’t hesitate to reach out. She didn’t have the resources to figure out what was going on. But Nash did.
Rain whined at her feet. Maybe he felt her seesawing emotions.
Amanda moved so she was sitting on the bench and reached down to reassure the dog.
“It’s okay, Rain. I’m okay. Something’s going on back at the orphanage though.
I have no idea what. But I think they need help.
Maybe the rebels are back, and they’ve taken over.
I don’t know. Nash will know what to do. ”
Clicking on Nash’s number, Amanda held her breath, hoping he’d pick up.
He didn’t. It went to voicemail.
She left him a vague message, asking him to call her when he could. Letting him know it wasn’t anything life-or-death important, just something she needed to talk about.
Not sure what else she should be doing right now, Amanda decided to head back to her apartment.
She needed to put everything back to rights.
The more she thought about it, the more anxious she was to do just that.
Nash wouldn’t be happy if he got there and saw the state those agents had left the place.
His protective instincts would kick in and he’d probably freak out.
She wanted to prevent him from doing anything that might hurt his career.
She got Rain back in the car then headed toward her apartment. She wasn’t worried that Nash hadn’t called her back yet. He’d warned her that there’d be times when he was in meetings and couldn’t use his phone.
Amanda arrived back at her complex and, after Rain did his business, she grabbed the mail from the mailroom then headed up to her apartment, determined to straighten the place up as best she could before Nash got home from work.
She put her keys and Rain’s leash on the hooks by the door, threw the mail onto the counter to go through later, and decided to start with the kitchen.
She’d just finished putting all the pots and pans and dishes back in their proper places when her phone rang.
Seeing Nash’s name on the screen made something inside of her ease. He’d help her figure out what was going on, of that she had no doubt.
“Hey,” she said, answering the phone.