Free Passions of the Dead (A Detective Jackson Mystery/Thriller) by L.J. Sellers Page A

Helen’s expression pleaded with her to understand.
    “Do you think it’s temporary?” Carla’s voice felt weird, as if the words were getting stuck in her dry throat. She should have made the damn tea.
    “I don’t know. Either way I have to cut payroll immediately to stay in business. This isn’t personal; you just happen to be the newest designer.”
    “Can I go back to sales?”
    “I’m cutting someone in sales too.”
    Tears built up and Carla fought for control. “Jared was laid off last week, you know.”
    “Oh shit.” Helen looked like she might cry too. “I’m so sorry.”
    Carla wondered if she was meant to go home right now. She couldn’t bring herself to ask. “I’ll clear out my personal files, then get out of here.”
    “Take your time. Everyone will want to say goodbye.” Helen blew her nose as Carla walked away. Tears burst from their wells and she hurried into the bathroom to cry in private. For a few minutes she let herself sob, without thinking, without recriminations. When it was out of her system, she repaired her makeup as best she could and began to plan. She could find a job in sales. There were always sales jobs. She had to be employed or the kids wouldn’t have health insurance. First she would file for unemployment. How much of a weekly check would she get?
    Before she made it out of the bathroom, her stomach revolted and she was once again hanging over the toilet. Rinsing the sour taste from her mouth, Carla wondered if she had a flu bug. Or was she getting an ulcer? Teenagers could do that to you. Lori had been especially moody lately, and with Jared laid off, Carla had been worrying herself into a frenzy.
    Still, it was unlike her to vomit. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thrown up. Carla headed for the door, then stopped dead in her tracks. Oh shit. She’d just remembered the last time she’d lost her breakfast. Fifteen years ago, about seven months before Nick was born. No! This couldn’t be happening. Her doctor had assured her the IUD was effective. She’d reluctantly gone off the pill after fifteen years because her doctor was worried about the long-term effects on her health.
    She was thirty-six for Christ’s sake. And unemployed. No longer needed in the building. Pregnancy was not an option.
    Being the kind of person who rips off a band-aid rather than peel it slowly, Carla strode to her desk and made short work of deleting personal e-mails and files. She grabbed a box from the mailing room, packed her Christmas cactus and family photos, and marched out of the building, head held high. She smiled and waved but didn’t stop for hugs. She was done crying….and puking for the day.
    Two nights later, Carla took a lasagna out of the oven and calculated it had cost her twelve dollars to make. They were headed over to Tracy and Kevin’s for a potluck dinner and she had to bring something nice. Jared had wanted to buy steaks but she’d vetoed the idea. Her unemployment check would be $310 a week. After paying rent they’d have $400 left for everything else. She couldn’t even buy groceries for a month with that paltry sum. Twice Carla had picked up the phone to call her mother, then set it back down. Her parents lived on social security in a two-bedroom trailer in Veneta. She couldn’t ask them for anything.
    Lori came into the kitchen and hugged her from behind. “Smells great, Mom.”
    “Thanks. I used real Italian sausage like everyone likes.”
    “I wanted to remind you I’m going to the WOW Hall after dinner to see a show. I’d like to take the Subaru.”
    “You can. Lori, I have to talk to you about something.”
    Her daughter crossed her arms but she didn’t roll her eyes. Carla was grateful. Lori had never treated her with contempt the way some teens did with their parents.
    Carla sat down at the kitchen table, which they’d stained and assembled themselves, and waited for Lori to do the same. “I know the money you make at