Lisa Scottoline - Daddy's Girl

What a beautiful man.

"Thanks." Angus recovered and handed her the cup.

"You're welcome," Nat answered, getting back in control. "More water?"

"No. Thanks."

"Feel better?" She set the cup on the table, and suddenly Angus reached for her free hand. His hand felt warm on top of hers, connecting them, and she didn't move her hand away.

"Natalie, listen," he said, his voice husky. He looked up, his eyes dry and intensely blue. "I have to tell you-"

"Excuse me?" came a female voice from the door.

Angus dropped Nat's hand, and they both turned. It was Deirdre, leading the Mongol horde of students. She looked from Angus to Nat and scowled.

"Sorry to interrupt, but your dinner has arrived."

"Dinner?" Angus checked the wall clock. "It's only five o'clock."

Natalie, listen, I have to tell you… what?

"The trays are here." Deidre helped the orderly slide a full tray of food from the tall rack and brought it to the bedside table herself. "Dinner is served," she said. "Roast chicken, peas, and a salad. Yum."

Rrring! Rrring! Nat startled. It was her cell phone. She pulled it from her purse.

"You can't answer that here," Deirdre said. "Cell phones aren't allowed."

Thank you, India. Nat checked the display, praying it wasn't Hank, not here. But she didn't recognize the phone number. She opened the phone.

In the background, Angus was saying, "I'm sure it's fine, Deirdre. We won't bust Professor Greco."

"Hello?" Nat put her hand over her other ear and walked toward the door, while a woman's voice came on the line.

"Ms. Greco? This is Barb Saunders."

Nat turned and caught Angus's eye, mouthing "Barb." Into the phone, she asked, "How are you?"

"Not great. Can you come over tonight?" Barb's voice sounded so choked that Nat almost felt like crying herself. "I need to talk to you. There's so much I want to know, about, you know, the end."

"Yes, I'll come. What time?"

"How long will it take you to get here? I'm sorry about the short notice, but I can't risk another headache."

"I'm halfway there now. It'll take me half an hour or so."

"Thanks so much. See you soon," Barb said, and hung up.

Nat flipped the phone closed.

"You gonna go?" Angus asked, and Nat didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

"Please wait until I can go with you," he said, and the students looked back and forth, like stepkids between Daddy and New Mommy.

"She can't wait. Sorry."

"Then be careful." Angus looked disapproving. "Look out for black Ford pickups. Call me here as soon as you can."

"Okay," Nat said, grabbing her bag, as Deidre and the students closed the circle.

Natalie, listen.

Nat steered the Volvo along the last stretch of country road on the way to the Saunders house. Raindrops pounded on the hood of the car and sliced the night in front of her headlights, which froze them like a camera flash, making vision difficult. She'd checked for pickups on the way, but none had a Delaware plate. Still, she was relieved to finally reach Barb Saunders's house. She parked, grabbed her purse, and, putting it over her head, got out of the Volvo and ran up the driveway to the front door. She rang the bell. The door was opened quickly by Barb's sister Jennifer.

"Come in! It's pouring!" she said, hurrying Nat inside. "Can I take your coat?"

"Yes, thanks." Nat slid out of her coat, trying not to get water everywhere, and while Jennifer left to hang it up, she scanned the living room. Duct tape crisscrossed the couch cushions where they had been slashed, and the computer workstation looked bizarre without the computer, like an eye socket without an eye. The children's books and DVDs had been returned to the shelves, but one of the drawers In the credenza hung by a screw, broken.

It's under the floor.

"I know what you're thinking," Jennifer said, returning, and Nat looked over in alarm.

"You do?"

"You wonder what's wrong with people. To burglarize a house during a funeral. It's sick."

"I know." Nat could see that the family had tried to put the room back together. Soft yellow lights shone from a remaining lamp, the TV played on mute, and sharp red Legos and large Tonka trucks were strewn across the shag rug. From the kitchen came the shouts of little boys and the homey aroma of boiled hot dogs.

"How bad is the rain?" Jennifer asked.

"Bad."

"Thank God it's not snow. These kids have to go back to school next week. We couldn't take a snow day." Jennifer flared her eyes comically. "Between her three and my two, I'm going crazy." She picked up a yellow rain slicker from the couch. "I'm taking my nephews out to the movies, so you and Barb can talk in peace."

"Thanks." Nat felt a familiar dread. She'd been waiting to do this for days but still felt unready. "How is she?"

"Hanging in, for the kids. She's a great mom." Jennifer leaned closer, zipping up her coat. "If she gets a migraine, call my house. I left my home number on the table. My mom is there, with my kids."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Come with me," Jennifer said to Nat, heading for the kitchen and calling out, "Anybody in here wanna go to the movies and eat too much candy?"

"Yes!”

“Yeah!”

“Aunt Jen!" the three boys shouted together. "Let's go! Can I get Milk Duds?"

The cacophony took Nat back to the Greco household, so long ago-Or maybe Monday night.

"Hello, Nat." Barb rose from her knees, where she'd crouched to help her youngest son with his coat. Her eyes were a tired hazel and her blond hair had been brushed back into a loose clip. She wore a black cardigan and jeans and managed a shaky smile. "Thanks for coming back. I felt so bad about last time."

"Don't worry about it." Nat waved her off". "Hi, guys," she said to the kids, who were zipping their coats with complete absorption.

"Say hello to Professor Greco." Barb tapped the boys on their puffy shoulders.

"Hello, Pefefe Greco," the older one said.

"I want Milk Duds," said the middle one.

"Okay, kids, see ya later." Barb bent down and kissed her sons on their smooth cheeks, making a cute little grunt each time. "Be good for your aunt. One candy apiece and that's it"

"See ya, honey." Jennifer gave Barb a quick kiss, waved to Nat, and packed off the kids, who toddled out the door in their thick coats, their SpongeBob mittens dangling from clips on their sleeves. The door closed behind them, and the house fell abruptly quiet.

"Whew." Barb sighed, mock-collapsing at the knees. "They're funny, aren't they?"

"They're adorable." Nat marveled at the tag team of women taking care of five children between them. "I can't imagine what this has been like for them, and you."

"They did okay at the service. I was proud of them. They don't understand much, really. Now, the burglary, they understood. Someone messed up their Bob the Builder!' Barb made a child's frown. "That they cried over. It was like it all got to them, all at once."

Nat felt for them. "Moms don't get enough credit, do they?"

"That's the truth!” Barb crossed to the coffeemaker. "Would you like a cup?"

"If it's no trouble. Can I help?"

"Sit down. It's all made. All I do is make coffee. Jen handles every-thing, between the cops and the TV people." Barb picked up the glass pot and poured coffee into an ivory mug that read, West Chester University. "How do you take it?"

"Black is fine."

"Great." Barb brought the coffee to the table, which was covered with a white tablecloth of wipe-clean plastic. A line of Chips Ahoy and Fig Newtons sat on a plate like fallen dominoes. Barb stood, hovering. "You want something to eat? If you don't like cookies, I have grown-up food."

"No, thanks."

"You're sure? The roast beef was a big hit."

"No, that's fine." Nat waited for Barb to sit down, then realized that she was stalling. She wanted to know and didn't want to know, just like Nat wanted to tell and didn't want to tell. "Sit down, Barb," Nat said softly.