Page 42 of Colton's Secret Weapon
She didn’t move toward the door. Didn’t move at all, and so neither did he.
When the knock came, firmly and loudly, Dove called, “Come in” in an equally raised tone.
A friendly one.
His hand at her back was stronger then. More the support of a friend than a lawyer. He was briefly aware. Didn’t care.
Even if what he suspected was true was about to unfold—Whaler had been found dead—Dove’s trials had just begun. There’d be an investigation. Hope to God a quick one. With an equally rapid trial.
And a tie-in to the vandalism at Dove’s studio.
Kansas had stepped fully into the room. Her blue eyes steady, and her fit, strong form seemed to dominate the space. “Good,I’m glad you’re both here,” she said. “We found Whaler.” She stopped abruptly. Looked straight at Dove and said, “I’m sorry…your father. He’s alive, Dove, but unconscious. An ambulance is on the way to the hospital with him, and I came to take you there myself. With sirens on.”
Whaler was alive. Mitchell kept the thought firmly at the forefront of his mind as Dove turned to look, wide-eyed, up at him. And when she moved to grab her purse, he allowed the next thought full flight: Kansas didn’t expect Whaler to be alive for long.
Following Dove as she ran after Kansas, he locked the door behind him and climbed into the back of Kansas’s car just before it sped off.
He wasn’t officially on the St. James clock.
But there was no way he was leaving his clients unprotected for a second.
Or so he tried to tell himself.
As though reading his mind, Dove turned then, meeting his gaze over the seat, her gaze filled with trepidation, but something warmer, too.
And he had to admit, at least to himself, that there was only one reason he was in that car.
To be present if and when Dove needed him.
The look in her eye seemed to tell him that she knew it, too.
Mitchell wanted that to be a good thing.
But knew that it wasn’t.
Chapter 13
Bob St. James was alive. Dove heard the rest from Kansas during the ten-minute drive to the small hospital, medical and trauma center at the edge of town. And again when the trauma doctor met her in the hallway outside the unit where her father lay unconscious.
He was alive, but barely. They let her in to see him, but only for a few minutes that first time, as they were still tending to him. Doing all she could to fill the small emergency-room cubicle with positive energy, she kissed him on both cheeks, told him she loved him and had good news for him.
She was sobbing when she pushed through the emergency room doors, to the quiet hallway beyond. Releasing the fear that could disrupt her ability to help Whaler pull through.
She dropped down to the first chair along the deserted wall, needing to be right there in case they wanted her. And to know the second her father was being moved to one of the eleven inpatient rooms in the facility so that she could be with him.
Closing her eyes she sat back, lotus position with her skirt secured around her, her head against the wall, and let the tears continue to fall through the cracks in her lids. Drawing on her inner strength in an attempt to have enough to share for as long as it took.
“He’s still alive,” Mitchell’s voice came to her, moving closer with each word, his tone as though he was telling her something new. By the time he’d finished the sentence, he was sitting down beside her.
For a second there, she considered keeping her eyes closed. Blocking him out. Putting up a shield against everyone. But something inside her refused to capitulate to the escapism.
Wiping her tears away, she took a deep breath. Nodded. Then shuddered. “He’s in terrible shape, Mitchell. Two days of most likely unintentional detoxing without medical assistance, which is stupefying enough by itself. He has a pretty good lump on the side of his head. A nasty gash in his side. They don’t know about broken bones, yet, though there’s nothing obvious there…”
“And his vitals?” Mitchell’s question was firm. To the point.
“They’re stabilizing.”
“Good. That’s good, Dove. And what you need to be focusing on. If they can keep him stable, the rest will heal. And…” He paused, as he was second-guessing whatever he’d been about to say.
