14
Given the circumstances, Lucas hadn’t expected anyone to meet him at the airport. But as they stepped into the terminal’s common area, a lanky teenage boy wearing a white PPI shirt and faded jeans unfolded himself from one of the low chairs and waved a long arm over his head in an exuberant greeting.
“Mr. O’Shaunnessey!” He hurried forward with a radiant grin. “Miz Lingstrom wanted to come pick you up herself, but she figured she shouldn’t oughta leave the store until you arrived. So she let me come, on account of I’m always running errands for you when you’re here.”
Lucas gripped the boy’s callused hand with genuine enthusiasm. He liked everyone at the Raleigh store—Wilma had chosen a good high-energy crew who worked well together. But Nick Armstrong had become something of a protég
