Free Mimosa Grove by Dinah McCall Page A

the pools of melting butter on the toasted muffin halves and manfully ignored the pangs of hunger.
    “Estelle, I don’t have time for that,” he said, and began stuffing the files he’d been reading back into his briefcase.
    Estelle took a freshly ironed napkin from a sideboard and laid it beside his plate.
    “Now, Mr. Robert, you know you won’t take care of yourself at work. You eat something or it will be dinnertime before you stop long enough to eat again.”
    Before Robert could argue, the phone rang. Estelle jumped, then bolted toward the phone. Robert Scanlon had no idea that she had a new admirer, nor was she going to tell him. She’d worked for him for more than fifteen years, and not once had he inquired as to her personal life or health.
    “You’re probably right about eating,” he said, then waved her away from the phone. “And I’ll get that. It’s bound to be someone from the office wondering where I’m at.”
    Disappointed, Estelle left the room, praying it wasn’t her friend, Charlie. She didn’t want to have to explain to her boss about the personal calls she got when none of the family was at home.
    Luckily for Estelle, it wasn’t Charlie. As for Robert, he’d guessed wrong about the caller, too. It wasn’t his secretary. It was Laurel.
    “Good morning, Dad. I called your office, but they said you weren’t there yet. Are you ill?”
    Robert was surprisingly touched by her concern. He didn’t know it, but his voice softened as he answered.
    “No, dear, I’m fine. I just overslept.”
    Laurel frowned. “Are you sure? You never over-sleep.”
    Still off kilter from her call, he popped off before he thought and unintentionally resurrected their antipathy.
    “Yes, Laurel, I’m sure,” he said. “How is Mimosa Grove? As dilapidated as ever, I assume.”
    Laurel resisted the urge to snap back. Just once, she wished he could be positive about something.
    “It’s very beautiful down here, Dad, although we had quite an event during the storm last night. A little girl was lost, but the searchers finally found her.”
    “That’s good,” Robert said. “I’m sure her parents are very grateful.”
    Laurel thought about telling him her part in the recovery, then changed her mind. There was no reason to assume he’d changed his opinion of having a daughter with psychic abilities.
    “Yes, I’m sure they are,” she said. “Is everything okay there? I miss seeing Estelle’s monthly make-overs.”
    “What makeovers?”
    Laurel laughed. “Her hair? Her makeup? Dad…for such a brilliant lawyer, you are horribly unobservant. Estelle is a fervent Oprah watcher. She saw a program six months ago that was about getting out of a life rut and trying new things.”
    Robert grunted. He didn’t like to be accused of missing the point on anything.
    “I’m sure I would have noticed if anything was that out of the ordinary,” he muttered.
    Laurel laughed. “So what color is her hair this week? Is she wearing makeup?”
    Robert frowned. “I’m sure I don’t know. I’m not in the habit of staring at the help.”
    Laurel sighed. “She’s not help. She’s Estelle.” She didn’t bother to add that, until Marie, Estelle was the only mother figure Laurel had grown up with.
    Uncomfortable with the personal turn the conversation had taken, Robert glanced at his watch.
    “Laurel, it was good to talk to you, but I’m late for work. I’ve got a big case coming up. You probably heard about it on television.”
    “No. I haven’t been watching any television since I’ve been here,” Laurel said. “What’s up?”
    “Remember Peter McNamara of McNamara Galleries?”
    “Yes, of course.” Then she gasped. “Are you saying he’s involved in the case you’ll be trying?”
    “No. I’m saying, he is the case.”
    “Oh, my…whatever is he supposed to have done?”
    “He was arrested for selling military secrets, but that’s not the kicker. And this is a fact that’s already made the news,