It took him over three hours to get a phone number for Sarah Linton. She did indeed sleep during the day, according to one of the places that came up on her information. It was, he said, “damned difficult” to call her in early when they needed her.
She worked nearly thirty hours a week at two different restaurants as a waitress and another twenty-five at a place where she sold timeshares. According to that boss, she was a good person to work with, but she was exhausted all the time. He said it made her less friendly to the people there wanting to date her. Neither place seemed to know she had children. Nor did they know where she lived. A post office box number was all they had.
The lady that lived in the apartment below her had two children as well. They would, when necessary, trade-off sitting each other’s kids, so they didn’t have to pay a sitter. The third job was for her kids to go to a private school. Sarah graded papers for the local teachers at the school where her boys went to pay for extras. Like their lunches. Tuition was paid by her cleaning the place on weekends, with her boys helping. Cass hurt for the way she was struggling to make ends meet.
Once he had the phone number, he was able to leave a message for her. All he said was his name and that he had some information she needed concerning Robin Quarter. Also, he made sure he told her Robin was in prison. Either she’d call him back or she’d not—it was up to her now. Almost as soon as he closed the connection to his phone, his cell rang back that it was her.
“What do you mean calling me at my home about Robin Quarter? What business is it of yours that—? You said he was in prison. You’re sure about that? Last time I heard, he was above such laws and did whatever the fuck he pleased.” He heard one of the boys telling her to put a penny in the jar. Cass listened as she told the child she was sorry, then he heard a door closing, shutting off the sounds of the household. “Why are you calling me? Has he told you what he did to me? Do you think to get something from me? I’ll tell you right now, I don’t have anything, thanks to him. I don’t get to see my parents. My sisters and brothers. I lost my job.” She sobbed, and he wanted to go there now and take her into his arms. “What is it you want, Mr. Foster? The only thing in the world I have is my sons, and I’d rather die than to let that bastard near them.”
“Are they Robin’s children?” She said they were. “What do you know of Robin’s father? Mr. Robby Quarter.”
“I thought he was dead. That’s what that prick told me. That he owned his family ranch and that I should feel privileged that— Why is it I’m telling you this? Do you have some kind of mystical powers? Are you a shifter? That’s it, you’re making me tell you this personal stuff.”
“I am a shifter, Miss Linton. A lion, as a matter of fact. However, I’m not making you tell me. I think you’ve been through enough without having someone make you relive it. No, I’m not making you. But I will tell you that I have the same strange feelings toward you. That I need to protect and take care of you. I’m sorry about all this, all the things that have happened to you, but Mr. Quarter, Robby, would like to meet you. And the boys. He’s only just found out about you three.” She asked him why she should believe him. “You shouldn’t, I suppose, believe me or him. But what harm can it do for you to meet with us? If you need proof that Robin is in prison, pull up the paper in his hometown. Read how he was arrested for the murder of several people. That rather than stand trial and more than likely get the death penalty, he decided to tell the state where the bodies were and spend the rest of his life in prison, without the chance of parole.”
“I don’t have a computer. I don’t have enough money to pay the electric bill that is overdue at the moment. I’m sure if you’ve been looking into our lives, you know a good deal more about me than I do you.” He told her he was sorry. Then he told her about the money in the bank. “I’m not even going to tell you that you shouldn’t have done that. Bouncing a single check could be a trickle-down disaster for us right now. Look, let me talk to my sons. Tell them what’s going on and who it is that wants to meet them. I’m not making any promises. They’re leerier of people than I am.”
“Thank you for this.” She said she’d not done anything as yet. “No, but you’ve given Mr. Quarter a chance, and that’s much more than he had before. You call us back at this number and tell us where we can meet you if you decide you will, and we’ll be there.”
After hanging up, Cass had to calm himself before he spoke
