Free The Golden Chance by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

of him as the children were. She was also desperate to hold on to him. In her own way, she loved him.”
    “A sick kind of love, if you ask me.”
    “We see that kind of love a lot in this business, don't we, Thelma? The sick kind.”
    “Well, Spalding's in prison now, and he'll be there another year and a half. Thanks to you. Too bad it had to happen the way it did, though. You could have been seriously hurt or even killed. I shudder every time I think about how close it all was.”
    “So do I,” Phila admitted. And sometimes she did more than shudder. Sometimes she dreamed about it. And woke up in a cold sweat.
    “I heard you had a run-in with Mrs. Spalding last night at the diner. True?”
    “It's true. She's hurting, Thelma.”
    “I think she could be dangerous, Phila. Watch yourself around her, okay?”
    “Maybe it's just as well I'm leaving town.” But Phila's instincts told her Ruth Spalding was not the real threat.
    “I agree. Go off to the coast, friend, and see if you can't get that old gleam back in your eye.”
    “I didn't know I had an old gleam to recover.” Phila smiled.
    “You do, you know. In fact, I think I detect a few returning sparks already. You look a lot better than you did a couple of weeks ago.”
    “Thanks. I think.” Phila drew a deep breath. “Thelma, I'm a little scared.”
    “Leaving a career is always a little scary,” Thelma said gently.
    “I feel I'm changing more than just a career. I think I'm changing my whole life, and I can't see what the new direction is going to be.”
    “You're strong, kiddo. Don't ever forget that. Want some advice, though?”
    “Sure. You're one of the few people whose advice I trust and you know it.”
    “Choose carefully when you choose your next line of work. You were a good caseworker, one of the best, but you were a maverick. An urban guerrilla trying to work within the system. You were always twisting, bending and pushing the rules. That can be very frustrating after a while.”
    Phila wrinkled her nose. “I hadn't realized you noticed.”
    Thelma shrugged. “I let most of it go by because I wanted the results I knew you could get. But that's a hard way to work. Hard on you. I don't think you were really cut out to work in a bureaucratic system of any kind, let alone one like ours where you can see your failures in a string of little ruined lives. But you're a born crusader. A rescuer of others. it's your nature, Phila. It's one of your strengths. It's also your greatest weakness. Take that into consideration when you go job hunting again.”
    Later that evening Phila finished packing the last of her things and stood surveying the little house she had been renting for the past two years. It had been the closest thing to a home she'd had since the day her grandmother died. It hurt now to see her once cozy retreat looking empty and lifeless.
    There would be another house, she told herself. That was one of the things you learned in foster care. There was always another house. And one of these days she would have one that really belonged to her; a real home. For keeps.
    She was taking very little with her, just her personal belongings and the books she could not bear to give away. Most of the furniture and kitchenware had been put into storage. The phone would be disconnected in the morning.
    Phila realized she did not even know where she would be living a month or two from now. She felt as though she were starting over from scratch, and she knew that was the way it had to be.
    She had closed the door on her career as a social worker the day she had testified at the Spalding trial. She could no longer lay claim to being a professional, and she knew it. Everything for which she had trained and worked was over.
    The stupid tears started to burn in her eyes again. She dashed them away with the back of her hand just as the phone rang. Grateful for the interruption, she snatched up the receiver.
    “Hello?”
    “Hello.” Nick Lightfoot's voice