Lisa Scottoline - Save Me

“No, wait, listen. I’ve been told not to speak with you. My lawyers are Oliver Charriere and Tom Lake.” Rose almost blanked on Tom’s last name, she felt so panicky. “You should call them if you have any questions for me. I have their card. Hold on.”

“I’m not sure we need to get formal about this.”

“I’d prefer it that way.” Rose opened the car door, grabbed her purse, extracted the card, and handed it to Howard. “Now, excuse me, but I should really get the kids some dinner.”

“Sure, okay.” Howard’s smile flattened. “I know Oliver well. I’ll give him a call, then get back to you.”

“Great,” Rose said lightly, as if it were a date, not an arrest. She opened the car door, and Melly was sitting upright in the seat, awake.

“Mom, who are those guys?”

“Just lawyers.” Rose reached in, unbuckled Melly’s harness, and let it retract. She wanted to get the kids inside and call Oliver, right away. “Let’s go, honey. Got your backpack? Get your backpack.”

“Like Leo?” Melly stretched slowly.

“Not as much fun as Leo.” Rose glanced over her shoulder, and the Assistant District Attorneys were getting back into their car. Sue Keller and Boris were on their way back, for the return trip. “Hurry up, let’s go.”

“Are you okay, Mom?”

“I’m fine, I just have to go to the bathroom. Let’s go, okay?” Rose hurried to the backseat, opened the car door, and unbuckled John’s car seat.

“Mom, don’t forget the bag from the bookstore.”

“I’ll get it later.” Rose slipped the seat belt over John’s head and lifted him up to her shoulder, where he flopped, staying asleep.

“But I want my books.”

“Then can you get the bag?” Rose checked over her shoulder. The sedan was still parked in front of the house. They hadn’t even started the engine.

“It’s heavy.” Melly had her backpack and was struggling with the bag of books.

“If you can’t do it, leave it. I’ll come back for it.” Rose glanced behind her, worried. Still, the sedan hadn’t moved. She felt her heart start to pound. Prosecutors, lawyers, charges. She had been here before. “Mel, please, hurry up.”

“Mom, you don’t have the Kristenburgers.”

“I’ll come back for the groceries.”

“Can we still have them for dinner tonight? You said.”

“We will, just hurry. I have to go to the bathroom, please.” Rose hurried down the sidewalk, reaching the sedan. The prosecutors were inside talking, and she slowed her pace so she didn’t look like a fleeing felon. “Mel, do you need help?”

“No. I can do it myself.”

“Okay, hurry.” Rose could see that Howard Whatever was pressing a number into his cell phone, and she wondered if he was already calling Oliver. Meanwhile, Sue Keller was catching up to them, with Boris yanking her forward. The cranky dog was getting close, so Rose hurried back to Melly. “Let me help, sweetie.”

“I was doing it, Mom. I can do it.”

“I know.” Rose bunny-dipped with John and picked up the plastic bag of books. “I don’t want Boris near you. Remember last time?”

Melly turned. “Oh, right. Norbert the dragon. Tried to bite me and Googie.”

“Yes. Come on.” Rose herded Melly up the sidewalk and past the sedan, where Howard was talking on his cell. The younger prosecutor sat in the driver’s seat, watching her. She turned with Melly onto their front walk and went up the flagstone path.

“Mom, we didn’t lock the car.”

“I will later. When I come back out.”

“ Colloportus, ” Melly said, anyway.

They reached the front step, where Rose set down the bag of books and handed Melly her purse. “Can you get the keys and open the door? I can’t with my hand.”

“ Alohomora! ”

“No unlocking spells, please. Use the key with the red thing on it.”

“I know, I see you do it, all the time.” Melly dug in the purse, found her keys, slid the key in the lock and twisted it, then pushed open the door. “Did it!”

“Good for you. Close the door. I’ll be right back.” Rose left Melly in the living room with the new books, went upstairs and put John down, then hurried into her bathroom with her purse. She got out her phone, and Oliver’s number was still in the text function. She highlighted it and pressed CALL. “Hello?” she said, as soon as a woman picked up. “I’d like to speak to either Oliver or Tom. I’m a new client. Rose McKenna. I was there today.”

“I’m sorry. Tom is in court, and Oliver is on the phone. May he return-”

“Is he on the phone with an Assistant District Attorney from Reesburgh?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not permitted to give out that information, but I can ask him to return your call.”

“Thanks.” Rose left her name and cell number, then hung up and dialed Leo’s cell. It rang and rang, then the voicemail came on. She told herself to calm down when the beep sounded, and she left a message: “Leo, I met with the lawyers, and two assistant D.A.s were here at the house. Give me a call when you can. Love you.”

Rose pressed END, then sank to the edge of the bathtub, her thoughts bounding back in time, a wild animal set free. She knew these woods. She had brought it on herself. She had it coming, truly. Her heart raced, she broke a sweat, and her gaze flitted around the picture-perfect bathroom, finding the his-and-hers pedestal sinks and the cornflower-blue accents in the shower curtain, which matched the hue of the thick bathtowels.

She had picked everything out for the new house, and seeing it all now, she knew she didn’t deserve any of it; neither the pretty Italian floor tiles, nor the overpriced shampoos on the rim of the tub. She’d wanted to start over, to have one last starting-over in a lifetime of starting-overs, of endless moving from apartment to apartment, and from base to base. The only difference in each place was the color of the bathtowels.

Rose blinked. Her mother lay on the bathroom floor in her robe, passed out again. She’d need to be awakened, picked up, washed off, sobered up. Long, dark hair hid her once lovely face. The bathtowels in that apartment were yellow. Then pink, then white. The bathtowels were the only thing that changed in the apartments where her mother lay on the floor, until one day, she couldn’t be awakened, at all.

Mommy!

“Mom?”

It was Melly, at the door. The door knob was twisting.

“Yes, honey?” Rose asked, coming out of her reverie.

“Why is the door locked?”

“Here I come.” Rose got up and caught sight of her reflection, but didn’t recognize herself. Her eyes, dark and blue, looked haunted.

“ Alohomora. ” Melly giggled, on the other side of the door.

Rose was cleaning up the dinner dishes when her phone rang, and she dried her hand hastily, reached for the cell phone, and tucked it into the crook of her neck. “Hello, yes?”

“Rose. It’s Oliver. I heard you got a visit today.”

“Yes. Did they call you? What did they say?” Rose peeked around the corner and double-checked that Melly was out of earshot in the family room, sitting at the computer desk and printing the Flat Stanley picture. John was in his high chair in the kitchen, mashing his rotini, his hand a small starfish. His palm made a bum, bum, bum sound when he banged the tray.

“They want a meeting tomorrow. Our offices, at ten in the morning. Can you make it?”

“My God, so soon?” Rose felt stricken. “What’s going on?”

“Remain calm and carry on, remember?”

“Does this mean they’re thinking of charging me?”

“It means they’re investigating the facts.”