Free Trust No One by Jayne Ann Krentz Page A

position I’ve ever had. I would have been happy to stay there.”
    “Well, that’s not an option now, is it?”
    “Careful, you’re starting to sound like Mom.”
    “I’m just doing my job as your older sister,” Alison said. “You know that as far as Mom and I are concerned, Sprague Witherspoon took advantage of you.”
    “That’s not true. He gave me opportunities.”
    “You wrote that cookbook and blog that took him to the top of the self-help-guru world but it was his name on both.”
    “I’ve explained to you that it is not unusual for successful people to pay others to write their books and blogs,” Grace said.
    This was not the first time Alison had raised this particular argument. Grace decided that she did not have the patience for it this morning. She was working on a plan that had popped into her head a few minutes earlier when Julius had run past the house. Time was of the essence.
    “Sorry,” she said, “I’ve got to go.”
    “Where are you going at this hour of the morning?”
    “I’m going to focus on the first stage of my new career plan. Inspiration just struck.”
    “You sound serious,” Alison said. “I’m impressed. And, may I say, it’s about time you settled on a realistic career path. I was startingto worry that you would end up working as a mime out in front of Nordstrom’s.”
    “Thanks, Big Sister. You do know how to motivate a person. Now I really do have to hang up and get busy.”
    “Doing what, exactly?”
    “I told you, my date last night suggested that I build a business plan designed to help me find a career path. He just went past the house on his morning run.”
    “So?’
    “He’ll turn around at the southern end of the lake where the path ends at the marina.”
    “I’m not following you.”
    “That means he’ll be coming back this way in a few minutes. I’m going to intercept him.”
    “Why?” Alison asked.
    “I’m going to ask him if he will consult for me.”
    “On what?”
    Alison sounded dumbfounded now.
    “On a business plan,” Grace said. “Evidently he’s an expert on business strategy and stuff like that. Talk to you later.”
    “Wait, don’t hang up. What do you know about this man you’re going to intercept?”
    “Not nearly enough,” Grace said.

Nine
    G race ended the call and glanced at the clock. Given Julius’s pace and his adherence to his running routine she thought she had about ten minutes left to prepare. She opened the refrigerator and took out two hard-boiled eggs and a bottle of spring water. Next she went into the pantry and found the old wicker picnic basket.
    Eight minutes later she was ready. She bundled up in her down jacket, picked up the picnic basket and went out onto the sheltered back porch. A light rain was falling. She pulled up the hood of the coat.
    She crossed the porch, went down the steps and hurried through the simple winter garden. Now that her mother and Kirk were spending a good portion of the year in sunny locales, the landscaping around the house had been reduced to the basics. The hardy shrubs and the trees that remained made a stark contrast to the glorious greenery that surrounded Agnes Gilroy’s pretty little house. But then, Agnes was a serious Pacific Northwest gardener.
    As if she had been alerted by a psychic intercept, Agnes came out onto her back porch and waved.
    “Good morning, dear,” she sang out. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
    Agnes had always been one of Grace’s favorite people. Agnes was a relentless optimist but Grace’s mother had observed on more than one occasion that beneath her cheery exterior the older woman was not only smart, she was also a shrewd judge of character.
    She wore her long gray hair in a bun at the nape of her neck and dressed mostly in baggy denim jeans, flannel shirts and gardening clogs. She had been born a free spirit and had evidently lived the lifestyle. A botanist by training, she had traveled widely in her younger days collecting plant