Dani nodded. ‘Understood.’
Adam hesitated. ‘What about Mrs Voss? Penny’s only six. She’s not going to be cooperative in a counseling session for much longer.’
‘I’ll observe while you’re gone.’ Isenberg raised a gray brow. ‘I’m still capable.’
Adam inclined his head, acknowledging her point. ‘Okay, boss. Video it for me?’
‘You got it. Now go and get Linnie.’
Adam started for the door, going through the things they hadn’t yet covered in his mind, the biggest of which was the shooting of their van. ‘CSU is collecting the bullets that hit our van. If I’m not back by the time they’re done, have them check ballistics against the bullet that killed Andy Gold.’
‘I will,’ Isenberg said. ‘Go.’
Nineteen
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Sunday 20 December, 4.50 P.M.
‘I’m sorry,’ Meredith murmured, closing her hand over her grandfather’s. After leaving Dani in the conference room, she’d come back to find him staring out of the same window, the same lost expression on his face. Looking every one of his eighty-four years.
Because next week, it would be seven years since Meredith had lost her parents and he’d lost his only son. But it wasn’t anything they ever spoke about. Not since it had happened. The grief had been palpable. And he and Gran had been so worried about her.
Which she’d given them so much reason to be. At least she could make sure that he didn’t worry about her any longer. She could give him that much.
She led him to the chair where Hanson had sat the night before and pulled another chair close for herself. And then she just rested her head against his shoulder and they sat together in silence until Meredith couldn’t take it any longer.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered.
He nuzzled her hair with his grizzled cheek. ‘Why?’
‘Because you’re sad. And because you’ve had to put on your brave face this weekend so that nobody knows you’re sad.’
He kissed her temple. ‘Well, I won’t deny that it would have been more convenient if all this had happened a month from now, but . . . Hey, you can’t schedule shit like this.’
She hiccupped a surprised laugh. ‘No, you can’t.’ She sighed. ‘I miss them too.’
‘I know you do, baby. Your folks would have been proud of you. I know I am.’ His gaze was clear and full of purpose. ‘You’ve been clearheaded and courageous through all this. Most people would be curled up, crying under their covers.’
‘I might have been, but I haven’t had the time,’ she said wryly and he chuckled.
‘It has been busy. I think that’s helped. I mean, it’s horrible, but just now, when you were in that meeting? It was the first time I’d had a chance to be all alone. To think. It all kind of hit me at once, you know?’
She did know. ‘That’s why I keep busy.’
‘Except you have to be able to deal with the quiet times too.’
Yes, he was still worried about her. About what she might do. To herself. And that shamed her as much as it saddened her. ‘I am. I’m better. For real,’ she added when he continued to look uncertain. ‘That’s what I need you to hear. And believe.’
‘Because of Kimble?’
She smiled at him. ‘His name is Adam. And . . . no. Not really. I was okay before him. If he stays, I’ll be more okay. I can’t lie about that.’
‘All right,’ he said glumly.
She laughed. ‘Try not to look so happy about it.’
He shook his head, not laughing with her. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I overheard him talking on the phone. When we were out on his balcony. He was talking to his’ – he dropped his voice – ‘sponsor.’
Meredith’s smile died. ‘Oh. Well, that was rude of you, Papa. That was private.’
‘I know. But he hurt you and I needed to understand why. You haven’t been, you know, with anyone since Chris.’
‘That’s not true,’ Meredith protested. ‘Just no one that I introduced to you.’
He blinked, stunned. ‘Who?’
‘None of your business. All you need to know is that I haven’t exactly been a nun.’
He winced. ‘Merry.’
‘You went there, old man. Don’t blame me if you learn stuff that you didn’t want to know.’
He grunted. ‘Fair enough. But Kimble did hurt you.’
‘And I now understand why and I’m okay with it. That needs to be good enough.’
‘It’s not. Not when I have to pick up the pieces.’
She frowned at him. ‘That’s not fair.’
He looked away. ‘You’re right. It’s not. But it’s how I feel. And my shrink says that I’m allowed to tell you how I feel.’
‘You have a shrink?’ she asked, more loudly than she’d intended.
He looked around, annoyed. ‘You want to say that louder, child?’
‘Sorry,’ she stage-whispered. ‘You have a shrink?’
That made him laugh. ‘Yes. Kind of.’ Then he blushed. ‘She’s a retired shrink.’
‘Papa,’ Meredith said, delighted. ‘You have a girlfriend?’
He shrugged, then preened. ‘I do. I want you to meet her after all this is done.’
She linked her arm through his and hugged it. ‘Tell me about her. I want to know it all. How did you meet? What’s her name? Do you go on moonlight walks on the beach?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Her name is Sharon and she’s a retired psychologist. We met in a grief group. It was after your gran passed and I was . . . at loose ends.’
Meredith’s smile faltered. ‘She was the leader?’ Because that was not cool.
‘No. She was a group member. She’d just lost her husband. That was a few years ago. We started . . . you know. Dating. About a year ago.’
Meredith’s smile was cheeky. ‘Dating? That’s what you senior citizens are calling it?’
He blushed furiously. ‘Merry. That’s none of your business.’
She laughed. ‘You are! You’re having a . . .’ She cleared her throat. ‘A relationship.’
He shook his head, but his mouth curved. ‘Yeah, I guess we are. I want you to meet her. She’s a lot like you. Fearless.’
Meredith’s eyes abruptly stung. ‘Papa.’
‘It’s true. She’s helped me. Said we need to talk through this stuff. That I shouldn’t just come up here like I do every year and pretend like I’m not watching you like a hawk to be sure nothing bad happens.’
It was like a stab to the heart, but one she’d earned. Or that he’d earned, at least. ‘You told her about me?’ she asked, surprised to hear that her voice had grown small.
‘Yeah. I’m sorry, but . . . It all came out one night and . . .’ He sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. You needed to tell someone and Gran’s gone. I understand.’
‘Thank you.’ He drew a breath. ‘I texted her, when you were in your meeting. Told her what I’d learned about Kimble. Told her that he said he knew you weren’t as . . . how did he put it? As impervious to hurt as everyone thought. And that he’d do his best not to hurt you any more. But I’m afraid, Merry. Honestly. He has issues that could exacerbate yours.’
She wanted to snap at him. Wanted to be angry that he’d shared Adam’s secrets with a person she’d never even met. But his face was so open, so vulnerable in a way she hadn’t seen in so many years. So she drew a breath of her own. ‘What did she say?’
‘That I shouldn’t assume. That I should tell you that I’m afraid. And . . .’ He sighed heavily. ‘That I should trust you. That you sounded like you had a firm grip on things.’
Good of her, Meredith thought irritably, then swept the irritation away. This woman had given him what he’d needed. ‘Papa, listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once. Imagine what would have happened if I’d had to go through all that horrible stuff back then alone. If I hadn’t had you and Gran and Alex.’
He shuddered. ‘I don’t want to imagine.’
‘I know. Think about Adam going through something just as awful, but all alone.’
He frowned. ‘He has family.’
‘Yes, and some of them would have been as supportive as you. But not all. And the ones who weren’t? Theirs were the voices he heard. He tried to deal with something truly horrific on his own. He’s dealing, and I’m okay with how he’s done so. You need to be too.’