California, cold silence usually ensued—if they were polite.
Judge Rosen turned back to Rob. “I need hardly say the warrants should be executed as soon as possible.”
“I can’t call my sergeant till I’m released. No cell phones allowed in these rooms.”
“Shall I call him for you?”
Rob frowned and glanced at Meg. “We need to confer.”
“I’ll go stand in the hall,” Meg said.
He dug out the keys Meg had found among his dirty clothes—in a sealable bag with his wallet. “When you said you’d take me home, Meg, you meant to your house. Right?”
“Yes. You can’t stay in that huge place of yours alone, Rob. Do not even consider it.”
He smiled. “Thanks, I won’t. It occurred to me while I was under the shower that Beth might as well use my house. She needs a home base and space for all those grandkids.”
“What a great idea! She told me they haven’t sold the house in town yet, but it can’t have much furniture.”
“You’re sure you won’t mind?” He held up the house key with the others dangling.
“Don’t be insulting.” She took the keys, kissed his nose, and turned to Judge Rosen. “I hope to see you again under less trying conditions.”
The judge made polite sounds, but his mind was clearly on his search warrants.
Meg left the room at a gallop. Waiting for the elevator calmed her enthusiasm. She hadn’t spoken to any of the McCormicks yet, least of all Beth, and she dreaded the encounter. What on earth could she say? She’d had no time to know the sheriff, really, and what she knew she didn’t always like. It was too late to know him better.
The group outside Beth’s room had swollen to at least a dozen, half of them children, everybody crying.
Meg touched the nearest woman’s arm. “Are you one of Beth’s daughters?”
She sniffed. “I’m Danielle. Dany. If you’re a reporter—”
“No, no, nothing like that. I’m Meg McLean. Rob Neill sent me up with the key to his house. He says you should use the place as long as you need to.” She detached the key from the chain.
“The Guthrie house? Wow!” Dany had auburn hair and the sheriff’s expressive mouth. She gave a shriek. “Hey, guys, Rob wants to lend us his house. Isn’t that great!”
“There should be room for everybody.” Meg wasn’t sure of that. There were a lot of McCormicks. Still, Rob’s Victorian had five bedrooms upstairs and one down, if you counted his office.
Everyone crowded around her, saying appreciative things and even smiling, and Meg started to relax a little.
“We can be together!” A dark man with Beth’s eyes took Meg’s hand. “Thanks. I’m John. Why didn’t Rob come up himself?”
Meg explained.
John McCormick clucked his tongue. “I hope the back problem’s not serious. We owe him a lot.”
“Mom’s life, for one thing.” Dany’s mouth trembled. “And he tried to save Dad.”
“He did save Sophy.” A ten-year-old girl grabbed Dany’s elbow. “Sophy’s going to be okay. You said so.”
“Yes, she is, honey. I promise. Skip just took her off where it’s quieter. She’s fine.”
“My grandpa died,” the girl said to Meg.
“I’m very sorry,” Meg said. “He was a good man. You should be proud of him.”
“I am. I’m Beatie.” She held out her hand.
Meg shook it. “I’m Meg.”
The child considered. “Megan?”
“Margaret.”
“Like Peggy.”
“That’s right.” Meg looked at Dany. “How is your sister doing?”
Dany’s face clouded. “Still unconscious. They have her in Intensive Care, but they think she’ll come out of the coma eventually.”
“That’s good. Er, your mother—”
“She’s sleeping.”
“Not with all this racket going on.” A nurse emerged from the room, scowling. “Off to the waiting room with you. Shoo!” She herded them down the hallway. After listening to a chorus of thanks, Meg made a graceful escape without seeing Beth. When she returned to the emergency area, Rob was sitting in
Judge Rosen turned back to Rob. “I need hardly say the warrants should be executed as soon as possible.”
“I can’t call my sergeant till I’m released. No cell phones allowed in these rooms.”
“Shall I call him for you?”
Rob frowned and glanced at Meg. “We need to confer.”
“I’ll go stand in the hall,” Meg said.
He dug out the keys Meg had found among his dirty clothes—in a sealable bag with his wallet. “When you said you’d take me home, Meg, you meant to your house. Right?”
“Yes. You can’t stay in that huge place of yours alone, Rob. Do not even consider it.”
He smiled. “Thanks, I won’t. It occurred to me while I was under the shower that Beth might as well use my house. She needs a home base and space for all those grandkids.”
“What a great idea! She told me they haven’t sold the house in town yet, but it can’t have much furniture.”
“You’re sure you won’t mind?” He held up the house key with the others dangling.
“Don’t be insulting.” She took the keys, kissed his nose, and turned to Judge Rosen. “I hope to see you again under less trying conditions.”
The judge made polite sounds, but his mind was clearly on his search warrants.
Meg left the room at a gallop. Waiting for the elevator calmed her enthusiasm. She hadn’t spoken to any of the McCormicks yet, least of all Beth, and she dreaded the encounter. What on earth could she say? She’d had no time to know the sheriff, really, and what she knew she didn’t always like. It was too late to know him better.
The group outside Beth’s room had swollen to at least a dozen, half of them children, everybody crying.
Meg touched the nearest woman’s arm. “Are you one of Beth’s daughters?”
She sniffed. “I’m Danielle. Dany. If you’re a reporter—”
“No, no, nothing like that. I’m Meg McLean. Rob Neill sent me up with the key to his house. He says you should use the place as long as you need to.” She detached the key from the chain.
“The Guthrie house? Wow!” Dany had auburn hair and the sheriff’s expressive mouth. She gave a shriek. “Hey, guys, Rob wants to lend us his house. Isn’t that great!”
“There should be room for everybody.” Meg wasn’t sure of that. There were a lot of McCormicks. Still, Rob’s Victorian had five bedrooms upstairs and one down, if you counted his office.
Everyone crowded around her, saying appreciative things and even smiling, and Meg started to relax a little.
“We can be together!” A dark man with Beth’s eyes took Meg’s hand. “Thanks. I’m John. Why didn’t Rob come up himself?”
Meg explained.
John McCormick clucked his tongue. “I hope the back problem’s not serious. We owe him a lot.”
“Mom’s life, for one thing.” Dany’s mouth trembled. “And he tried to save Dad.”
“He did save Sophy.” A ten-year-old girl grabbed Dany’s elbow. “Sophy’s going to be okay. You said so.”
“Yes, she is, honey. I promise. Skip just took her off where it’s quieter. She’s fine.”
“My grandpa died,” the girl said to Meg.
“I’m very sorry,” Meg said. “He was a good man. You should be proud of him.”
“I am. I’m Beatie.” She held out her hand.
Meg shook it. “I’m Meg.”
The child considered. “Megan?”
“Margaret.”
“Like Peggy.”
“That’s right.” Meg looked at Dany. “How is your sister doing?”
Dany’s face clouded. “Still unconscious. They have her in Intensive Care, but they think she’ll come out of the coma eventually.”
“That’s good. Er, your mother—”
“She’s sleeping.”
“Not with all this racket going on.” A nurse emerged from the room, scowling. “Off to the waiting room with you. Shoo!” She herded them down the hallway. After listening to a chorus of thanks, Meg made a graceful escape without seeing Beth. When she returned to the emergency area, Rob was sitting in
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