Laura Hutchinson thanked them profusely, insisted that she didn't need to go to the hospital, and would see her own doctor the next morning, if there was any need for it. And she made them promise that they would call her to tell her of the other young people's condition.
She already knew that the young driver was dead, but they hadn't yet told her that Allyson would probably not survive until morning. The highway patrolmen felt sorry for her, she was so distraught, so frightened, so desperately upset by what had happened. She had cried terribly when she saw Phillip's body covered with the drape and removed. She had three children of her own, and the thought of these young people dying in an accident was almost more than she could bear to think of.
The patrolman who brought her home suggested that she take a tranquilizer that night, to calm her nerves, if she had any in the house, or at least have a strong drink. She looked as though she needed it, and he was sure that the Senator wouldn't mind his suggestion.
“I haven't had a drink all night,” she said nervously. “I never drink when I go out without my husband,” she explained.
“I think it would do you good, ma'am. Would you like me to get you one now?”
She hesitated, but he could sense that she would, and he went to the bar and poured her a drink himself. A good strong drink of brandy. She made a terrible face as she drank it down, but she smiled at him once she did, and thanked him. They had been wonderful to her all night, and she assured them that the Senator would be very grateful to know how kind they had been to her.
“Not at all.” He thanked her and left, and went to rejoin his partner outside, who inquired if he had thought to take her in to the hospital for an alcohol check, so they could rule that out in their investigation.
“For chrissake, Tom. The woman is a senator's wife, she's a nervous wreck over the accident, she saw a kid die, and she told me herself she hadn't had a drink all night. That's good enough for me.” The other highway patrolman shrugged, his partner was probably right. She was a senator's wife, she wasn't going to hit the highway at eleven o'clock at night half crocked and hit a bunch of kids. No one could be that dumb, and she looked like a nice woman.
“I just poured her a brandy anyway, so it's too late now, if you wanted me to go back in and ask for it. The poor thing needed a stiff drink. I think it did her good.”
“Might do me good too.” The patrolman grinned. “Did you bring me one?”
“Shut up. Christ …run an alcohol check …” He laughed. “What else did you want me to do? Fingerprint her?”
“Sure. Why not. The Senator would have probably set us up for a commendation.” The two men laughed and drove off into the night. It had already been a long night for them, and it was only one-thirty in the morning.
Chapter 4
At eleven-fifty, Page was watching an old movie on TV, and she sat up in bed a little straighter. Allyson was twenty minutes late, and her mother was not amused. At midnight, she was even less so.
Andy was sleeping peacefully at her side, and Lizzie was asleep on the floor near the bed. Everything was quiet and tranquil in the house, except Page, who was getting madder by the minute. Allyson had promised to be home no later than eleven-thirty, which was half an hour later than Page wanted her home in the first place. And there was absolutely no excuse for her violating her curfew.
Page thought of calling the Thorensen home, but she knew there was no point. If they were still at the movies, or out having ice cream somewhere, there would be no answer anyway. She figured they had probably gone out to eat somewhere after the movie, and Allyson obviously hadn't told Chloe's father that she had to be home by eleven-thirty.
By twelve-thirty, Page was enraged, and by one o'clock she was very worried. She was just deciding to abandon her reticence and call the Thorensen home, when the phone rang at five after one. She assumed that it was Allyson asking if she could spend the night at Chloe's. Page was beyond livid by then, and would have liked to shake her daughter.
“No, you may not was the way she answered.
“Hello?” The voice at the other end sounded confused, and Page sounded even more so. It wasn't Allyson at all, but a stranger. She couldn't even imagine who would call her at this hour, unless it was a mistake, or an obscene phone call.
“Is this the Clarke residence?”
“Yes? Who is this?” A sudden electric tingle of fear ran down her spine, and she ignored it.
“This is the highway patrol, Mrs. Clarke. This is Mrs. Clarke?”
“Yes.” The word was a whisper, as sudden fear clutched her throat and held it.
“I'm sorry to tell you that your daughter has been in an accident.”
“Oh my God.” Her whole body came alive, and her mind was filled with terror. “Is she alive?”
“Yes, but she was unconscious on the way to Marin General. She was very seriously hurt.” Oh God … oh God …what does “very seriously” mean? How bad is that? Is she okay? Will she live? How hurt is she?