She tried Susan again. This time she got through. “Hey, Suse, just wanted to tell you I’m on my way.”
There was a pause, then a mercifully sober, “You’re late.”
“Not by much, but I didn’t want you to worry. I’ll be there soon.” She hung up before her sister could say anything else. Then she looked at Jared. He was still sleeping.
Unable to resist, she leaned over and put a light kiss on his cheek. He didn’t stir. For a final minute, she enjoyed the sight of him. Then she rose from the bed, crossed to the dresser to pick up the purse and heels she’d set there a short time before, and, with a last, longing glance at Jared, she left the room.
CHAPTER12
Susan wasn’t alone when Savannah arrived. Dianne Walker, Susan’s former sister-in-law, was there to open the door, swathed in fur and Obsession.
“Happy birthday, darling,” she said, offering first one cheek, then the other to Savannah. “We missed you last night. The party was divine, wasn’t it, love?” she said to Susan, who had come up from behind. Without awaiting an answer, she addressed Savannah again. “You’re such a stranger. Always working. I’m glad you’re taking Susan off for the day, though. It’s been a dreadful week.” She was studying Savannah closely. “But you’re looking wonderful, darling. Kidnappings must agree with you.”
Under normal circumstances, Savannah would have reacted to so offensive a comment. But she was feeling unusually light inside, and very indulgent. “A good night’s rest will do it every time.” Sidestepping Dianne, she gave Susan a hug. “Happy birthday, Sis.”
Susan returned the hug. “You, too.”
“All set to go?”
“I need another two minutes on my makeup. Dianne distracted me.”
Two minutes would be five, and Savannah knew she would be stuck with Dianne during that time. But she said, “Go ahead and finish. I want to give the hospital a call and see how Megan’s doing.”
Excusing herself, she took off for the den and put through the call. Will answered the phone in Megan’s room, his hello a tired one.
“Hi, Will. It’s Savannah. How’s she doing?”
“Okay.”
“Did she sleep last night?”
“Yes.”
“Is she feeling any better?”
“I don’t know.”
“She’s still not saying much?”
“That’s right.”
“And you can’t talk freely because she’s listening. Has the psychiatrist been in?”
“Several times.”
“The detectives?”
“Yes.”
“She isn’t offering any more than she did before?”
“No.” With a breath, he went on more optimistically. “We’ve been watching television this morning.”
“Ah. That’s something.” It was certainly more than Megan had done the day before. “Do you think she’ll talk with me?”
The optimism vanished. “Uh, I don’t think so, Savannah. She’s not really feeling up to talking on the—wait a second.” He put a hand over the phone. For a minute his voice was too muffled for Savannah to make out the words, then he came back. “Hold on.”
Savannah held tight to the phone, then her heart gave a lurch.
