Squinting, Dani watched the person struggling to remove a flat tire. A sudden gust of wind made the figure stagger backward, and Dani saw that it was an older woman.
Dani tapped the brakes, then hesitated as the good and bad angels on her shoulders argued. Ms. Pitchfork whispered in her ear that she was tired and it was dangerous to stop for strangers, assuring her that the woman could call a garage for assistance. Ms. Halo pointed out that the poor lady was clearly in need of help and maybe she didn’t have a cell phone or the money to pay for a tow truck.
Knowing she’d never be able to sleep if she didn’t pull over, Dani parked the van behind the incapacitated car, then took a moment to consider the situation. She had an umbrella in an organizer on the back of her seat, but the wind would destroy it in seconds. And although it wasn’t super cold, she didn’t want to get soaked and have to drive home in wet clothes.
Deciding that the disposable poncho she kept in a pouch in her emergency kit would be her best hope for remaining dry, she dug the box out from under the passenger seat and rummaged until she found the sealed envelope. It looked a bit melted, but when she pulled apart the packet, the poncho appeared to be undamaged.
Once Dani was shrouded in plastic, she reluctantly emerged from the van. Tiny shards of hail stung her cheeks and she nearly jumped out of her skin when the van door slammed shut behind her.
After checking to makes sure she had her keys, Dani approached the stranded station wagon. Sickly moonbeams tinted the street an eerie silver, and when the woman looked up from her battle with the tire, she jumped to her feet, clutching her chest and stumbling backward.
With the headlights now illuminating the woman’s face, Dani recognized her as the Bourne’s housekeeper, Mrs. Carnet. Didn’t she live in? What in the heck was she doing out this late in such bad weather?
Pushing her hood back a little so the woman could see her face, Dani said, “Mrs. Carnet, it’s Dani Sloan. I don’t know if you remember me, but I catered Regina’s luau. I just finished cooking dinner for the Karneses and was heading home when I saw you.”
“Of course I remember you. You and your girls were so sweet. Thank you for stopping.” Regaining her footing, the housekeeper pushed her hair out of her eyes and trudged back toward the disabled vehicle. Abruptly, she stopped, her shoulders slumped, and she covered her face with her hands. “This is the worst day of my life and I don’t know what to do.”
The rain made it difficult to tell if Mrs. Carnet was crying, but Dani automatically reached for the packet of Kleenex she always kept in her pocket.
When she realized that in this weather offering her a tissue would be futile, Dani sighed and asked, “What happened?”
“The Bournes fired me this afternoon.” Mrs. Carnet started to sob. “I’ve been with them for twenty-one years and they told me I had eight hours to vacate the premises or they’d have me forcibly removed.”
Dani glanced into the ancient station wagon and saw that it was loaded with boxes and suitcases that looked as if they had been hastily piled in the car.
“Why in the world—” Dani cut herself off. The older woman was shaking and Dani wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from the shock. Either way, she needed to get Mrs. Carnet out of the rain. “I’m not sure I could change your tire, so how about I drive you wherever you were going and you pick up your car tomorrow?”
“I…I can’t leave it.” Mrs. Carnet gazed at the station wagon. “Everything that I own is in there. What if it gets stolen?”
“If you want, we can call for a tow truck.” Dani took the woman’s elbow and tugged. “But let’s wait for it where it’s dry.”
“My cell phone is dead.” Mrs. Carnet allowed Dani to help her into the van. “With everything that happened, I forgot to charge it.”
“No worries.” Dani took her cell from her pocket, swiped the screen to unlock it, and handed it to the woman. “You can use mine.”
Mrs. Carnet carefully placed the phone on the dashboard, took off her fogged-up glasses, then, realizing her clothes were soaked, she looked around helplessly. Dani handed her a stack of paper napkins and watched silently as the older woman carefully wiped the lens, then settled the frames back on her face. Finally, Mrs. Carnet picked up Dani’s cell from the console and stared at the tiny, black rectangle as if she’d never seen a cell before.
Shaking her head, Mrs. Carnet said, “I don’t even know who to call. The Bournes have always had me on their insurance plan, but I’m guessing that I’m not covered by that road assistance anymore.”
“Most likely they haven’t had a chance to cancel it yet,” Dani said slowly. “You could probably use it this one last time.”
Mrs. Carnet shook her head violently. “No! If I do that, they might have me arrested.” She glanced at Dani. “They’re merciless.”
“Fine. How about if I call who I use?” Dani asked, tucking the info about the Bournes into the back of her mind to consider later.
“I guess that would be okay.”
Mrs. Carnet returned the cell phone to Dani, who woke up the screen again, brought up her contacts, and tapped the icon. After she’d reached the emergency tire business and spoke to the serviceman, she held the cell against her chest.
Turning to Mrs. Carnet, she said, “The guy wants to know if you have a spare tire available, and if so, are you sure that it’s good.”
“I
