Page 11 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

What a joke!

A mistake of immense proportions.

Except for B.J.

Their son was the only part of their ill-fated marriage that was worth the heartache. As lousy a husband as Jack was, he did seem to adore his kid. The feeling was obviously mutual, and the one thing she hated about the separation and impending divorce was that B.J. wouldn’t grow up under the same roof as his father.

“What happened?” Jack asked, his brows slammed together, his blondish hair artificially darkened with rain.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think Gran fell down the stairs. She could have tripped or had a stroke, I guess. The thing is, she always took the elevator. I never saw her on the stairs. She didn’t even consider it. So how…?” Sighing, she leaned back against the seat and fought an overpowering sense of guilt. “I was late. Our furnace was acting up all day, and I couldn’t get a repairman out cuz it’s the weekend. Then B.J., contrary to how he’s acting now, was fussy as all get-out. Nothing made him happy. Nothing…well, except obviously you, now.”

Jack flashed her a grin.

“So I waited for the pizza-delivery guy to come, then drove over an hour or so later than usual, and…and…” In her mind’s eye she saw her grandmother’s tiny, broken body sprawled upon the tile floor, the pooled blood beneath her short hair. Cissy’s stomach churned. “And by the time I got here, I found her on the floor of the foyer. I knew she was dead, but I called 9-1-1 and…” She clenched her teeth. “I think that if I’d gotten here earlier, when I was supposed to…maybe things would have happened differently. Maybe she’d still be alive.”

“Don’t go there, Ciss. It’s not your fault. You know that.”

She nodded sho

rtly, fighting emotion.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and this time when he touched the back of her neck, she didn’t shrink away.

She would like, for just a few minutes, to not reopen her eyes, to push the pain aside and let someone, even Jack, comfort her. Just until she could pull herself together.

“Can I get you out of here?”

“Blocked in.” Blinking rapidly and running a finger under her eyes, she shot a look through the foggy back window. The crime-scene van, Paterno’s car, a fire truck, and several police cars, their lights still strobing the night, were parked behind her, clogging the driveway and the street. More people had crowded around the gates—two neighbors whom she recognized, a jogger, and someone walking his dog—all congregating under the spreading bare branches of the ancient oak tree across the street. All their faces appeared ghostly in the watery blue illumination of the flickering streetlight that her grandmother had always complained about.

“My car’s out front,” Jack said. He smiled faintly at her in the darkness. “We can escape.”

Like Marla, she thought but didn’t say it.

“I think Paterno wants to talk to me again.”

“The homicide dick? The one who put your mom away?”

“One and the same.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed as the windows of the car continued to fog. “But I thought he left town. What the hell is he doing here? What’s he got to do with this?”

“I don’t know.” The headache Cissy had been fighting all day intensified, pounding at the base of her skull again. Lately, Jack had that effect on her.

“But homicide? As in murder? Jesus, what is this?” His jaw turned hard as stone.

“I said ‘I don’t know.’” She lifted a shoulder, realized he was still touching her, and looked pointedly at his hand.

Jack got the hint and pulled it back to wrap around B.J., who was still happily munching on his squeezed piece of pizza. Plopped as he was on his father’s lap, the kid was happy, really happy, for the first time all day. Great. Cissy didn’t want to think about the future and what that might spell.

“I’ll get you out of here.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He shot her a glance that begged to differ, and she realized she looked a mess, mascara running from her eyes, hair matted from the rain, grief probably etched all over her face.

“This’ll only take a second.” He started to get out of the car.

“Wait a minute,” she said, but resisted the urge to grab his arm. “How’d you get here so quickly?”

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