Page 83 of The Surrogate Nanny

I perked up a little.

Maybe there is hope after all.

“From what I understand, your husband worked for Vance Oil on one of their rigs for six months before his passing?”

“That’s correct.”

“What was his prior profession?”

“He was a mechanic. He loved working on cars and motorcycles.”

“And perhaps Kiyah will follow in his footsteps one day,” he commented, watching her draw a car on the yellow legal notepad.

“I think Rory wanted a boy for that reason, but he learned pretty quickly that gender didn’t matter. She always followed him into the garage as soon as she learned to walk.” I sniffed back the snot that attempted to trickle out of my nose. “Thank you,” I whispered when he handed me some tissue. I blew my nose and wiped before proceeding. “Kiyah can identify most tools in his tool chest. He’d be lying on a creeper under the car and asking her to bring him his tools.”

“Can she do oil changes yet? I think I’m due for one,” he joked.

I snorted. “I think that was one of Rory’s goals. He wanted her to be able to change the oil by the time she was five.”

“That’s remarkable. My five-year-old is just learning how to tie his shoes. I miss velcro,” he sighed.

I grinned and swiped at my nose again with the tissue. Jonathan Baker was a joker. He was probably the class clown when he was younger. I didn’t mind. It put me at ease.

“Tell me more about Mr. Houston and what led him to work for Vance Oil.”

“We lived up north, and the cost of living was pretty high. He worked at a shop, and I worked part-time on the weekends for damn near scraps. He found an online ad for oil riggers and the pay and decided to jump at the opportunity. He didn’t have to convince me much. I was over the cold, and the money was more than enticing. We packed up our lives, moved to Texas, and he began working for Vance Oil almost immediately.”

“And he had no previous experience working on rigs?”

“None.”

“Interesting,” he mused. “What did the company tell you when you were informed of his passing?”

“I can’t recall exactly. I heard ‘Rory’ and ‘dead’ in the same sentence, and I’d completely shut down.”

“Okay. What benefits did Mr. Houston have with Vance Oil?”

“The usual—health, dental, vision, and accidental death.”

“How much was the accidental death policy?”

“$30,000, but I’ve been getting the runaround from them as well. I provided everything the insurance company asked for, but it’s been weeks, and every time I call and check, they tell me that they’re still processing my claim.”

“Mr. Houston has been deceased six months, correct?”

“Yes.”

“That’s odd, considering that insurance companies usually pay out between thirty and sixty days.”

“They’re trying to screw me, too,” I proclaimed.

“Sounds like it. I’ll look into it and see if I can light a fire under them. Did Mr. Houston have life insurance?”

I shook my head. “No. The company didn’t offer it as a benefit, and he never followed through with getting a separate policy. I bugged him about it relentlessly, and he told me he’d get it done, but he worked long hours and was gone more than he was with us. So, I guess it slipped his mind.”

“And just so we’re clear, you’re going after Vance Oil for negligence, correct?”

“Yes.”