Last Chance by Norah McClintock

didn’t say a word. He didn’t give any indication that he had even heard me.
    â€œI’m not kidding,” I said.
    He shook his head in disgust. “Man, and they say people change. You sure haven’t.”
    â€œNeither have you.”
    He looked at me—
studied
me—before finally saying, “You didn’t see me in that office.” He said it as if it were a fact, as if he had no doubts about it. “If you had, you would have gone to Kathy already. You probably would have called the cops too. People like you, if they think they’ve got something on you, they go straight to the cops. The only time they ever try to make a deal is when they have no proof, when they’re trying to make you trip yourself up. But this time you got nothing on me.”
    This time.
    â€œYeah? Well, I’m going to talk to Kathy right now,” I said.
    â€œYou do that,” Nick said. He sauntered back to the picnic table and sat down again. The rest of the guys were all over him, probably trying to find out what I had said. Antoine turned and looked at me. I couldn’t read his expression any better than I could read Nick’s.
    I strode back inside, trying to look determined. But Nick was right. I hadn’t seen him in the office. I hadn’t even seen him in the building.All I had were suspicions—and Nick’s track record or, rather, his criminal record. And—this really bothered me—that he hadn’t denied it. When an innocent person is accused of stealing, he denies it. At the very least, he becomes indignant. Nick had done neither. Instead, he’d just taunted me.
    I hesitated outside my office door and reviewed what facts I had.
    Fact: Someone had been in that office and had at least touched that money. There was a good chance that whoever it was had taken some of it.
    Fact: The money had been raised for charity. What kind of person would take money that had been raised for a good cause? That was easy—Nick D’Angelo. He’d done it once before.
    I walked past my office door and knocked on the one next to it—Kathy’s door.
    Kathy’s expression changed from cheery to expectant to concerned as I spoke. Her shoulders gradually slumped. She caved back in her chair. She asked me a few questions. Finally, she said, “I’ll talk to Nick.”
    â€œBut he’s not going to admit it,” I said.
    Kathy gave me a long, weary look. She seemed disappointed. What shook me was that I wasn’t sure who she was disappointed in—Nick, for maybe doing something terrible, or me, for telling her something she clearly did not want to hear. I wished that I hadn’t said anything.

“I would have done the same thing,” Morgan said when I phoned her at her cottage.“I mean, he’s done it before, right? And leopards don’t change their spots, right?”
    â€œI guess,” I said.
    â€œThere’s a lesson to be learned here,” Morgan said.
    There sure was: “Next time I’ll lock the door when I leave a room full of money,” I said.
    She sighed. “Repeat after me, Robyn: I will never,
ever,
participate in one of Billy’s crazy animal rights protests again. No good ever comes of them. Animals are still losing the war with people. And it sounds like you’re not exactly having the time of your life.
And
I’m bored out of my skull up here without you.”
    Morgan’s endorsement of what I had done should have made me feel better. But it didn’t. Morgan tended to be quick to judge others—and her judgments were often harsh. So I sought a second opinion.
    â€œHow much did he take?” Billy said, sounding horrified that someone had actually been greedy enough—twice!—to steal money that was intended to help our four-legged friends (and some two-legged ones, if you counted the ducks I had seen on my first day).
    â€œI’m not exactly sure,” I said.