Skylar felt like crying again. “I’m sorry.”
“I look awful, don’t I?”
“Yeah.”
Jenna gave her a loopy smile. “It’s not your fault.”
But it was. In a roundabout way it was. If Skylar had found Rosie at the rally after she first spotted Fin and said to her, “Hey, there’s this guy here who spells trouble. He likes to blow things up . . .”
Right. Then Rosie would have asked how Skylar happened to know him.
Maybe Fin wasn’t responsible.
There was a sharp rap on the door and it opened. A cop stood there. His shoulders all but grazed the door frame. He entered and the tiny room shrank to breathing space only.
“Excuse me.” The foghorn voice sucked up most of the air.
Like a tiny slug poked by a finger, Skylar curled into herself, sinking back down to the floor and folding up against Jenna’s chair.
Max said, “Can I help you, Officer?”
“Nope.” He nodded toward Jenna. “Mrs. Mason, I need to ask you a few questions.”
Max moved next to Claire, forming a mom-and-pop brigade in front of Jenna. “I assume you’re the officer who talked to my daughter at the church?”
Skylar recognized that the cop’s size and gray hair matched those of the one she had seen follow Danny and Jenna. Evidently they’d told their parents about him.
The man gave a slight nod. “I’m Officer Brayson. What’s your name?”
“Max Beaumont.” Max cleared his throat, a noise akin to a lion’s menacing rumble.
Over the past few weeks, Skylar had witnessed Max in a variety of roles, from gracious host to total left-brained manager, from laughing gardener to grousing horse stall cleaner. Some new energy vibrated from him now, though, some undefined edginess.
He said, “You asked my daughter questions while she sat there bleeding, a glass shard stuck in her arm, ears ringing from a bomb blast. You are not going to bother her now.”
“That’s my call, sir. This is a police matter and time is of the essence. She has information about the bombing.” He looked at Danny. “And I need to know exactly how and when you got inside the church.”
Max crossed his arms. “I don’t think so.” His low voice sounded almost primal in its intensity.
A long silent moment passed, the glares proverbial dart throwers.
Officer Brayson blinked first. He glanced over at Jenna and then met Max’s gaze. “I’ll wait until your daughter is up to talking.”
“She’s a high school English teacher. Her husband is a Marine. She went to a military funeral with another teacher, a Navy SEAL’s wife. You can’t possibly think these women had any prior knowledge of the bombing.”
“Like I said, I’ll wait.” He closed up his notebook, slid it into his breast pocket, and leaned sideways against the wall.
Max took two strides and was in the man’s face. “All due respect, Officer, you can wait elsewhere. This room is for family only.”
Brayson waited a beat, his eyes almost shut. “Sure. No problem, sir. I’ll be in the hall.” He turned and walked out.
Max shut the door behind him.
This room is for family only.
The room in which Skylar sat.
A
s the door shut behind Officer Brayson, Danny wondered if he needed a lawyer. Had he broken a law by circumventing a police cordon? Poor Jenna. All she did was go to a funeral and get hurt.
His mother blew out a loud breath. “Max Beaumont! You can’t talk to a policeman like that!”
He grinned at her. “’Course you can. He was bothering my kids for no good reason.”
Danny said, “Dad, there is a good reason.”
“Well, it can wait. It’s not like you guys know anything that will speed along the investigation. You walk in through an unguarded door to help your sister. Jenna’s friend teaches chemistry and knows a thing or two about explosives. So what? There are plenty other witnesses not in the hospital who heard and saw the same things. Anybody want some dinner?”
The door opened again. A nurse’s face appeared. “Jenna Mason, you are good to go. We need the room ASAP.”
“Thanks!” Max called out as the door shut.
Jenna flung aside the blanket. “Let’s go to Amber’s room.”
From the looks of her fluttering eyelids, Danny figured she was sailing away again. She should sail on all the way to the hacienda for the night and forget Amber. The cop’s interrogation had upset her. Or maybe it was their dad. He’d clearly won the most points for belligerence in that round.
Danny tuned them out as his parents and sister made plans to head upstairs. He wasn’t hanging around any longer.
Skylar rose from the floor, sort of crawling backwards up the wall. Her eyes, still red from the earlier crying jag, were wide as full moons.
She saw him watching her.
Danny winked. “Wasn’t that fun?”
“Tons.”
“What do you think? Shall we go talk to Brayson, get this over with?”
“What do you mean ‘we’? You have a mouse in your pocket?”
“Actually, I was wondering if I should have a lawyer in it.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Which I need to tell the police.”
“Suit yourself.” Her breathing sounded like gulps from a person too long under water.
“I said ‘we’ because it will come out that I didn’t enter the church alone.”
The freckles on her nose stood out, the skin beneath them paling. “Whatever.”
His dad turned around from Jenna. “Hey, I don’t want either one of you talking to anybody tonight. We’ll sort it all out tomorrow. Got that?”
Danny held up a hand. “Give me a minute here, Dad. I just have to get over this feeling that I’m six years old.”
Max twisted his head, a quick jerk to the side. “Sorry. But we’re family. We need to support each other. That includes you, Skylar.”
“Thanks.” The soft, reverential tone didn’t sound like any other that had come out of her.
Danny said, “Dad, if you don’t need me here, I’m heading home.”
“Go ahead. You, too, Skylar. Thanks for your concern.”
Danny and Skylar said their good-byes and left the room together. “I just realized I don’t have any wheels. I came in the ambulance. Would you mind swinging by my place?”
She shook her head.
“Well, it’s not exactly a swing by. It’s out of the way. I’ll buy you dinner.”
Huh?
Where had that come from? “On the other hand, I can take a cab—”
“You don’t have to bribe—” Skylar halted abruptly, looking down the wide corridor. “There’s Rosie.”
He followed her line of sight. The ER was a busy area, but he easily spotted Rosie in uniform, talking with Brayson.
He said, “Jiggers, it’s the cops! And they’re blocking our escape route!”
“Your dad said not to talk to
anyone
.” She spoke quietly, haltingly, not joining in his banter.
Where had the smart-mouthed, flippant chef disappeared to? Apparently Skylar was more disturbed than he thought.
“Yeah well, Rosie’s not
anyone
. She’s like you—Family. Capital
F.
Let’s go.”
She winced and then quickly frowned as if trying to hide the look of hurt.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head and strode forward. He hurried to catch up.
Rosie saw them as they neared. “My favorite peaceniks.”
“My favorite hard-nosed cop.” He threw Brayson a glare. The returned glare made him swallow the teasing remarks about Rosie being tougher than the big guy.
Danny whispered to Skylar, “If I have to, I’ll sic Dad on him again.”
They reached them and stopped.
Rosie said, “Is Jenna all right?”
He nodded. “Some stitches, and she’s a little loopy. But that could be the pain medication, or the concussion, or just plain old Jenna.”
“I’ll go see her. It could have been so much worse. There were only cuts and bruises. Her friend is the only one in serious condition. How about you two? Are you okay?”
“Fine,” they said in unison. He added, “Bye.”
Brayson said, “Hey! Three questions.”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “Allen, I told you it’s my boyfriend’s family, they’re good guys. Dan Beaumont, Erik’s brother. Skylar Pierson, their employee at the retreat center.”
“How’d you get inside the church, Beaumont?”
He looked at Rosie. “Do I need a lawyer?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
Danny tingled with exasperation. He snarled a reply. “I was at a coffee shop a mile away when I heard a big boom. I went toward the noise, saw the holes in the church wall. Erik called my cell phone right then and told me Jenna was inside. I walked around the church, saw an open door, and went through it because my sister was inside a building that had just been bombed!”
Rosie touched his arm. “It’s okay. Calm down.”
He took a deep breath. “I came in behind the altar and saw Jenna in a pew. End of story.”
Rosie looked up at the other cop. “End of story.”
He ignored her. “Did you see anyone? Did you see anything suspicious?”
Rosie’s help aside, Danny figured the sooner he answered, the sooner they’d get out of there. “I saw people leaving out the back door: the priests, the family, the coffin, the pallbearers. That’s it. Nothing weird if you don’t count the whole freaking scene.”
“Were you alone?”
“That’s four questions.”
Rosie’s glower at him matched Brayson’s.
Danny relented. “Skylar was with me, from coffee shop to altar. And now we are leaving.”
Rosie grabbed him in a hug. “Thanks.” She gave Skylar a quick hug too. “Take care.”
They hurried off, weaving a path around clumps of people in the hallway, people in the waiting room, people coming in and going out the ER doors. Even the stinking sidewalk had people on it.
He’d been weaving his way around hordes of people all day long. He wanted to be home. No, he wanted to be in the water, just him and his board, the sky and the swells.
But he wasn’t there. He wasn’t even close to home. First came a forty-minute drive with an odd woman he’d met only weeks ago who seemed as upset as he was.
He tamped down his emotions and aimed for a neutral tone. “That went pretty well, don’t you think?” He missed the mark, heard the defiance, pressed on anyway. “At least they didn’t arrest me.”
Wordlessly, Skylar slipped her arm through his and steered him into a parking garage.
In that moment when he ached so badly to wrap himself in solitude, the warmth of her touch felt right.
Incredibly right.
F
rom her seat in the wheelchair, Jenna lifted a defiant jaw and reminded herself she could do cool, calm, and collected. Even with the Iowa-sized knot on her head, ugly raw stitches holding her torn flesh together, and pain meds roiling in her stomach and fogging her brain, she could do serene.
“I’m going in there.”
Standing on either side of the chair, her parents hummed “honey” and coughed their embarrassment. Claire and Max had witnessed her “attitude” since she was a child—in private, though, not in public, not toward a person in charge.
That person was a middle-aged nurse in a white top and slacks that swished with every gesture. She blocked the entrance to the ICU. “I’m sorry. As I said, only family is allowed.”
Obviously Jenna’s teacher persona was not going to get the job done. She pushed aside the thought of Amber lying beyond those doors, all alone, unconscious. Lingering there would only make her bawl.
Better to take a lesson from Kevin and douse her thoughts with testosterone. Act like a tough roller. Act like a coach. Act like a Marine. Act like—
Or just
be
. Be that military wife whose duty it was to take charge of things while the guys were gone.
Jenna pushed herself out of the wheelchair. Her dad’s hand grasped her elbow, which prevented her from plopping right back down. “Nurse.” She peered at the woman’s name tag. The letters blurred. “Um.”
“Cathy.”
Jenna met her gaze. The woman knew the whole story. She knew that the hospital had called Amber’s emergency contact number, that it was the Navy, that her husband was incommunicado, that they were doing what they could to locate him. She also knew that Jenna had talked with their principal and that Cade was still trying to connect with Amber’s parents in England.
“Nurse Cathy,” she said. “My husband and Amber’s husband are in the military. They’re both overseas. They don’t know each other but we know each other. That makes us
family
. I will see her now. I will tell her she is not alone.”
The nurse’s eyes filled.
Oh, don’t do that. Don’t do that.
Jenna’s legs wobbled along with the surge of adrenaline.
Cathy’s nose twitched and her eyes cleared. “Can you walk unassisted?”
“Yes.”
“Come with me.” She looked at Claire and Max. “Family only, you understand.”
Max let go of Jenna’s arm. “Of course.”
Her mom patted her shoulder. “We’ll be here, honey.”
Jenna followed Cathy through a large set of doors and down a hall. She missed Amber, missed her perkiness, her bubbly chatter, her smile. What if she died? Was it Jenna’s responsibility to tell her husband and parents? The military knew how to do those things. They had special people who knocked on the door. They read from a script. Like a spouse didn’t know what they were going to say.
He’s dead. She’s dead.
What else was there to add?
This was all backward, the spouse safe at home getting hit by debris from a bomb. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.
Of course Amber had other friends. She was the sort of person who never met a stranger. She seemed close to a biology teacher, a history teacher, neighbors in her apartment building. She had friends in a Camp Pendleton wives’ book club. Two of them had been sitting on the other end of the pew.
Were they all right? Would her other friends know yet what had happened to Amber? Except for the teachers, they were all nameless to Jenna. Should she call someone?
The sense of hospital overwhelmed Jenna. Antiseptic odors. Soft beeps and hisses. The squish of rubber soles against linoleum. Harsh lights. Muted voices.
The nurse stopped in front of an open doorway. “Five minutes, Mrs. Mason.”
“What . . .why . . .”