Free Land's End by Marta Perry Page A

glanced at her. “I’ll apologize to Miz—Dr. Wainwright. But you can’t fire me just like that.”
    Trent moved slightly, as if he’d block the man from looking at her. “I don’t tolerate criminals in my employ. The keys.” His tone left no room for argument.
    Farrell stared at him for a moment longer, looking baffled. Then he yanked a ring of keys from his pocket and thrust them at Trent.
    â€œThat’s not the end of this. I got rights.”
    â€œYou broke the law. Consider yourself lucky not to be under arrest.”
    Trent turned away, giving the door a nudge. It shut in Farrell’s face.
    Sarah sucked in a breath. For a moment she’d thoughtTrent would actually hit the man, his fury had been so palpable. And the way Farrell had looked…
    â€œMaybe you should call the police,” she said. “He might—”
    â€œI don’t need the police to deal with a coward like Farrell.” Trent’s gaze met hers. “But I suppose I have been a little high-handed. You certainly have every right to press charges against him. I hope you won’t, for obvious reasons, but I won’t stand in your way.”
    But her anger had disappeared sometime in the past few minutes. All she felt now was distaste, and an urge to have this business behind her. “That would only generate publicity that neither of us wants.”
    She thought there was relief in his gray eyes, but she couldn’t be sure.
    â€œI’ll make restitution for your losses, of course.”
    â€œYou don’t need to. It wasn’t your fault.”
    His eyebrows lifted. “I’m glad you accept that. Nevertheless, it’s my responsibility. Farrell was in my employ. I’ll take care of it.”
    She was too tired to go on arguing about it. She wanted to fall into bed and sleep for ten hours straight, but she had too much to do to indulge in that luxury.
    â€œAll right. Whatever you want.” She pushed her hair back from her forehead, trying to think what to do first. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to clean up this mess.”
    She expected him to leave, but instead he followed her to the bedroom. He bent to pick up a pair of slacks.
    â€œWhat are you doing?”
    â€œI said I’d take responsibility for this.”
    She took the slacks from him, shaking them out. They were crumpled, but at least they’d escaped the knife. “There’snothing you can do here.” She certainly didn’t want him picking up her clothing.
    â€œI have to help.” He stood there, looking oddly hesitant. That had to be a first, for Trent Donner not to know what to do.
    â€œYou can figure out how I’m going to explain all this to Jonathan. He was already unhappy enough with the situation.”
    She picked up a sleep shirt. It had been slit from neckline to hem. A shudder ran through her. No, she definitely didn’t want Trent to help. She dropped it into the wastebasket.
    She glanced at Trent. He stared at the wastebasket, an odd expression on his face. He caught her watching him and produced a half smile.
    â€œAs far as Jonathan’s concerned, you can just blame me.”
    â€œIt wasn’t your fault. And Jonathan already hates being on the outs with you.”
    â€œIt was my fault.” His face tightened. “I should have realized what kind of man Farrell was. I should have been more careful what I said in front of him.”
    â€œPeople in power have to be careful of what they wish for. Someone might try to make it come true.” She wondered if he really understood the amount of power he wielded.
    â€œIs your car still at the tavern?” he asked abruptly.
    She nodded. “It wasn’t going anywhere on four flats. I’ll have to call a garage.”
    â€œI’ll take care of it.” He pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “I can do that, at least.” He stepped into the living room,