Page 93 of Justice Delayed

“Did you hear what I said?” From the corner of her eye, she could see Livingston had joined her in the kitchen.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Quentin disconnected the call.

Ruby laid the phone on the counter, her husband’s decisiveness bolstering her courage to face the police alone. Her daughter stormed into the kitchen, followed by a uniformed female cop.

“Mom? What’s happening?” Jillian pointed at the police office behind her. “She kicked me off my computer and told me I had to come to the kitchen.”

Livingston answered. “We have a warrant to search the house and grounds. You’ll need to either vacate the premises or stay in the kitchen under supervision.”

Jillian’s mouth fell open in the classic expression of disbelief.

The fear in her daughter’s eyes paralyzed Ruby for an instant, then she rushed to gather Jillian in her arms. “It’s okay. Everything will be all right.”

Jillian shoved back out of Ruby’s embrace. “It won’t.”

Ruby reached for her daughter, but Jillian shook her head. “Your father’s on his way. He’ll sort this out.”

“Not this time.” Jillian’s mouth tightened. “He can’t.”

“Of course he can.” Quentin always took care of his family first. That was one of the things Ruby admired and loved about her husband.

Jillian snorted. “Don’t you see? Don’t you get it?”

Ruby shot a quick glance at the detective, whose attention was fixed on mother and daughter. After stepping closer to Jillian, she hissed, “You need to calm down and pull yourself together.”

“I need to calm down?” Jillian’s voice rose. “Of all the times to not be cool and collected, I think this ranks as one of them. They’re going through my stuff!”

Ruby reined in her own emotions, which were steadily rising in correspondence to her daughter’s see-sawing outburst. “This is just another incidence of police harassment, and as soon as your father comes—”

“What?” Jillian snapped the question. “What will Dad do? He can’t make them stop searching. They have a warrant.”

Ruby didn’t have an answer to that, but Jillian wasn’t waiting for one anyway, as her daughter plowed on. “And you know what? I hope they find whatever it is they’re looking for.” She lowered her voice. “Then at least we can finally get all of our dirty little secrets out in the open instead of them festering and poisoning all of us.”

Jillian dashed tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands, then turned to face the large kitchen window. Before Ruby could go to her daughter, a suited technician entered the kitchen.

Livingston and the man held a short, murmured conversation before the detective slipped out of the room after the technician. Ruby rubbed her hands on her arms, a chill in the air despite the warm September day. Things had gotten so topsy-turvy, she doubted anything could put them right side up again.

“Ruby?”

She turned to see Quentin pause in the kitchen doorway, another uniformed police officer at his heels. Wordlessly, she held out her hands and her husband hurried across the kitchen to take them in his. At his touch, her composure crumbled.

“My poor darling.” Quentin pulled her into his arms.

She laid her cheek against his crisp dress shirt, his heart beating beneath her ear. The tranquil rhythm helped to slow her breathing. Quentin was here. He would make everything better. He always did.

“Mr. Thompson?”

Livingston’s voice jerked Ruby out of her comfort zone. She twisted out of Quentin’s embrace to face the detective alongside her husband.

“Detective Livingston, isn’t it?” Quentin’s voice held no hint of distress, and his warm grip on Ruby’s hand renewed her confidence in his ability to handle any situation. “What can I do for you?”

“We’ve discovered a safe hidden in the master bathroom linen closet. Would you please open it?” Livingston gazed directly at Quentin. “We can call a locksmith to drill the lock but thought you might prefer the safe not to be damaged.”

Ruby’s mind raced. What was he talking about? The only safe in the house was in the study behind her portrait.

But her husband’s expression stayed the same, leaving her to believe he didn’t seem flummoxed by the discovery. “I can give you the combination.” He then rattled off a series of numbers that the detective jotted down. As soon as Livingston left, Quentin dropped her hand and paced to the sink. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and drank it down in one long, gulp.

Ruby plucked at his sleeve. “What safe? Quentin, what was he talking about?”

---