The Last Straw (The Jigsaw Files #4) - Sharon Sala Page 0,3

crazy, his place in her life was ingrained.

Charlie pointed to the last waffle on the plate.

“You gonna eat that?” he asked.

“I can’t,” Wyrick said.

He frowned. “Why?”

“It has your name on it,” Wyrick said.

It took him a second to realize she’d actually made a joke, and then laughed out loud as he forked it onto his plate.

“That’s a good one,” he said, then buttered it up and drowned it in syrup, just the way he liked it.

Wyrick got up and carried her dishes to the sink. No need to sit there and get all comfy-cozy with the boss—even if he was living under her roof for the sole purpose of keeping her alive.

“I’m going to check my email,” she said. “I’ll be ready to leave for work around 7:30.”

Charlie had a mouthful of waffle, and nodded as she left the kitchen.

Wyrick thought about going out to the greenhouse to pick some of Merlin’s tomatoes first, then decided against it. She’d get them tonight when they came home. She’d been putting off checking online messages and email, but this morning it felt like the thing to do.

The office in the old mansion was grand—all cherrywood, overstuffed leather furniture and floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and every time she walked in, she half expected to see her old friend, Merlin, sitting behind the desk, sporting his long white hair and beard. He hadn’t needed a pointed hat and magic. He’d been wizard-smart without the trimmings.

It was sad to know someone that brilliant and vital was gone, and she was still struggling with the fact that he’d named her his heir. She didn’t need the money. She had too much of it already, and it still couldn’t buy her what she needed most—the anonymity of a personal life.

But the gift of that which he loved most, this estate in the heart of old Dallas, was a treasure she didn’t take lightly. She missed him. She missed his wit.

Except for Charlie, Merlin was the only other person she’d ever trusted, and cancer took him, just like Alzheimer’s had taken Charlie’s Annie. But that was life, and she obviously wasn’t through living hers, so she sat down in Merlin’s chair, booted up one of her personal computers and went to work.

She had messages from her stockbroker.

Messages regarding the stats on her gaming company. Messages about her newest patents.

Messages from every company she owned.

And alerts from websites connected to religious communities who were posting about her. A few referred to her as an angel from God. A larger number of them considered her a benign cancer upon humanity, who should never have been born.

But there were a couple with large followings who posted dire warnings about the wisdom of leaving her alive in the world, and having prayer meetings in secret places to pray for her death.

Those were the ones she kept an eye on. Getting Universal Theorem out of her life had come at a huge cost. It had unleashed the madness of people who used religion to pursue their own personal, and often selfish, agendas.

One group stood out among the rest as one of the most dangerous. The congregation was small, but the online presence was larger. They called themselves the Church of The Righteous, and had a website that was a hotbed of disinformation and religious rants, and currently, a lot of that had to do with her.

So far she’d had no personal contact with them, but she suspected she would. She wasn’t exactly afraid, but she was leery of bad men with personal power agendas. UT had taught her that.

She responded to her stockbroker’s questions, sent information and orders as needed to her holdings and then went to get ready for work.

The weather was changing along with the days as they moved into fall. And on days when the weather was overcast, it was also cold. She opted for black leather and long sleeves on her blouse, silver knee-high boots and red-and-silver eye shadow, with a slash of red on her lips. After dropping her phone into her purse, she slung the strap over her shoulder and headed downstairs to get the rest of her things.

Charlie was kicked back in the living room, flipping channels on the morning news shows, when she walked in. He looked up, then turned off the TV and stood.

Wyrick’s eyes narrowed as she quickly looked away.

Damn man. He made everything he wore look sexy, including the black Levi’s, the white shirt and the Western-cut black blazer he had on today. Even