Maggie could relate to the girl’s loss. Earlier that feeling of vulnerability, of fear – all of it had been palpable.
She kept her eyes closed. Concentrated on her breathing. If she tried hard enough she could conjure up images of good times with her father. Saturday afternoons watching college football. Or Sundays if there was a Packers game on.
Her mother didn’t have the patience to learn the rules. She’d go shopping and leave the two of them in front of the TV. They’d have popcorn. Sometimes they’d order a pizza. If Maggie thought about it hard enough she could even smell the Italian sausage and Romano cheese. Her dad’s favorites became her favorites.
She used to wear his old Packers jersey as a sleep shirt until Greg complained.
She needed to find it. She no longer cared what Greg thought or said.
That decision made, she started to fall asleep as she tried to remember where she might have packed it away. Like counting sheep, Maggie opened and closed drawers in her mind. She unfolded and folded, looking for the jersey. She knew it was here. Maybe at the back of the closet. There was no sense of panic. Instead it became a quiet and lulling search. Comforted by the memory of its softness. For a long time it even smelled like her father.
She had drifted off when the banging of pots and pans woke her up. Behind the sofa in the kitchen she could hear a skillet pulled from the hanging rack. The refrigerator door opened and closed. A metal whisk click-clacked against a glass bowl. Fresh brewed coffee filled the air.
Greg never made breakfast. He even picked up coffee on his way to work. But of course, he would make breakfast this morning. And she realized she hadn’t avoided anything by going to great length to not wake him last night. Instead she had only made things worse. He was upset. She hadn’t avoided his lecture. She’d only just delayed it.
Chapter 13
Washington, D.C.
Gwen had left the girl’s side only once to get some coffee. And only then because a nurse had come in to go through her checklist. A sheriff’s deputy was posted outside Katie’s room. He simply nodded at Gwen when she returned, watching her step carefully over the freshly scrubbed floor in the hallway. The slick floor was one more obstacle to make her regret the three-inch heels.
She barely sat back down and the door opened again. Cunningham hesitated, glancing at the girl then Gwen.
“Has she said anything at all?”
“She hasn’t woken up. They had to sedate her before I arrived.”
He came in slowly, almost on tiptoes, holding the door as it closed to keep it from making a noise. Then he approached the bed with the same caution. When he looked at Gwen a second time she felt his eyes run over her.
“I pulled you away from an evening out.”
She wondered if he was surprised. But instead he looked genuinely sorry.
She shrugged but stopped herself from using the same line she’d used with Delaney to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe she wanted Cunningham to think it had been a big deal.
Just then she noticed the girl’s eyes flutter open. She made a slight groan.
Cunningham looked to Gwen and she put a finger up to stop him from moving. Then she sat up and leaned in. She touched the girl’s hand and waited a second.
“Hi Katie.”
The girl’s eyes darted around the room. She noticed the IV, saw the needle in the back her hand. Panic sat her up and Gwen came out of the chair, calming her with gentle but firm hands on her shoulders.
“It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re in the hospital but you’re okay.”
The girl’s head swiveled, taking in the surroundings. She saw Cunningham and seemed to recognize him.
She asked him, “My dad…he fell in the river. You went to look for him.”
Again, Cunningham looked to Gwen but instead of waiting for instruction he said, “We found your dad in the river, Katie.”
Gwen rubbed the girl’s shoulder and back, keeping her hands close in case she needed to hold her down. She didn’t want Katie to jump out of the bed and rip the needle out of her hand. Gwen glanced around to see where the call button was. Maybe they should have a nurse here.
But the girl sat still. Silent tears slid down her face. The sedative was probably still in her system. There was no hitch in her throat, no thrashing around like the night before. Just a sad, quiet acceptance of what Cunningham had said and what it meant.
“Katie,” Gwen said, waiting for the girl to look at her. “I’m Dr. Patterson. This is Mr. Cunningham. We’re here to help you. We’re going to make sure you’re okay and that nothing bad is going to happen to you.”
Gwen sat on the edge of bed now and put her hand over Katie’s. She gestured for Cunningham to sit in the chair. She didn’t want them towering over the girl. They needed to appear on her same level, less threatening and more sincere.
“Are you hungry?” Gwen asked.