Page 70 of Fraud
I let out a great sigh of relief, knowing my job was done for the day, as the parents began to file out of the auditorium, eager to find their children and enjoy some free lunch provided by the college.
Me?
I just wanted to find a quiet spot for an hour and not have to speak to anyone, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not today anyway. With this many people on campus, I’d be lucky to get a minute in to stuff half of a sandwich in my mouth between meetings.
“Kate!” Amy hissed as several parents filed past me, all smiling and giving their thanks.
I turned to her as she made her way through the crowd.
“Your phone has been going off for the last thirty minutes!”
That sent alarms off in my head.
I quickly grabbed the phone from her, typing in my code.
Four messages, several texts. All from Jane.
My heart raced as I tried not to think of all the things that could be wrong.
Car accident, cancer…death in the family.
The text messages were no help.
Call me.
Call me now!
NOW!
SERIOUSLY!
Well, at least I knew she was able to use her fingers and was cognizant. That probably ruled out most injuries. I checked my voice mail messages next. The first one played.
“Kate, it’s me. Listen, I did a thing. A bad thing, and I need you to call me. Like, now.”
My quick paced pitter patter of my heart calmed a little. So, maybe not cancer. And she sounded way too guilty and far too put together for someone who had just lost a family member.
I decided to skip the rest of the messages and go straight to the source. Amy—being the helpful, somewhat nosy twenty-two-year-old that she was—clung to my every move, ready to step in and help.
“Kate!” Jane answered, relief clear in her voice.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“You’re going to kill me.”
I huffed and resorted to pacing. The large auditorium was now empty, and my voice carried far more than it had moments early. “Can you just tell me what you did?”
“A few weeks ago, a very large bookstore chain offered you a lot of money if they could get their hands on the first signed copies ofScandal, since you obviously haven’t done any appearances or given any copies away. Knowing you’d never agree to a public signing, I thought this would be the best way for your fans to get a precious autographed copy.”
“Okay, go on.”
“I meant to discuss it with you when I was out there, but we got to dancing, and, well—anyway, you signed the paperwork, and—”
“I signed the paperwork?” I said loudly, startling Amy, who’d taken to collecting the stray pamphlets that had been left all over the room.
Those would be the parents who called me in two weeks with a dozen questions.
I shook my head, trying to stay on topic.
