But now they’d been in the exam room with Michelle for at least a half hour, and no one had bothered to come out and tell him what was going on. He was starting to wonder whether Michelle’s injuries were worse than they’d suspected. When they’d left the office, the police still hadn’t located the bullet. Was it possible the slug was in Michelle’s arm? But surely she couldn’t have been so calm and pain-free if that were the case. Still, her arm had bled quite a bit.
Finally the door to the ER opened and Michelle emerged, flanked by her parents. Her left sleeve had been cut away and a thick bandage covered her upper arm, which was in a flimsy sling. Her face was pale, but she broke into a smile when she saw him.
Rob jumped up and met them halfway. He shrugged out of his jacket and held it out. Her father took it and wrapped it around Michelle’s shoulders, taking care with her wounded arm.
Mrs. Penn beamed at him. “How thoughtful of you.” He saw where Michelle got her straight, white teeth and high cheekbones.
“You didn’t need to stay,” Mr. Penn told him.
“I know, but…I was worried.” He stole a glance at Michelle, but she avoided his eyes.
“Well, that’s very nice of you.” Mrs. Penn patted his arm, and a feeling of sadness and yearning shrouded him, as tangible as his coat draped over Michelle’s shoulders.
Daniel Penn shook Rob’s hand. “Will you please let your father know that we’re taking Michelle home with us for a few days?”
“Of course. I’m sure—”
“No, Daddy. I’m fine.” She looked at Rob and then at her father. “You and Mom can just take me back to my apartment. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Are you sure, Michelle?” Her mother brushed a wayward curl off her face. “You look awfully shaky to me.”
“I’m fine, Mom. I’d really rather go back to my place.” She gave Rob a stern look. “Tell your dad I’ll be back to work in the morning.”
“I can take her home,” Rob said, regretting the offer the instant the words were out.
The looks on her parents’ faces confirmed his regret.
But Michelle smiled. “Thanks, Rob. That’d be great. I’m sure the police are still going to want to talk to us.”
Mrs. Penn started to protest, but her husband put an arm around her and took her aside. Rob heard snatches of their hushed conversation to the effect that Michelle was a big girl now and if she said she was feeling fine, then they needed to trust her.
When they came back to speak to Michelle, Mrs. Penn’s expression was stiff, but she hugged her daughter, being careful of the bandaged arm. “You call us if you need anything, you hear me?”
“I will, Mom, I promise. And honest, I feel just fine. It was just a little excitement, that’s all.”
Michelle’s father gave Rob a hard look. “You’re sure that guy’s locked up?”
“Yes, sir. I saw them haul him off.” For the second time. But of course he didn’t say that.
“Okay. I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Yes, sir.”
Her dad hugged Michelle, being careful of her arm in the sling. “Take it easy, kiddo.” Then he turned back to Rob. “Thanks, Robert. We appreciate you looking after her.”
“No problem, sir.” He went to open his car door for Michelle, aware that her parents were watching his every move. He’d prove to them that their daughter was in good hands with him. Even if he was breaking his own father’s rules.
* * *
“You’re sure you feel well enough to go back to the office? I’m sure you could give your statement later—or the police could even go to your place.”
“I’m fine, Rob.” She wished everybody would quit acting like she’d almost died. And she sure didn’t want the police at her apartment. Her landlord would croak! “Let’s go back to the office. I’d just as soon get it over with.”
“Okay…if you’re sure.”
Michelle was the center of attention when she got back. Everyone gathered around, asking questions and recounting their own version of what had happened. It was the first time she’d heard the details of how the whole ruckus began, and it made her realize all over again how very lucky she’d been not to be more seriously injured. No. She corrected the thought. God had been watching over her, protecting her. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered.
Her thoughts—and her heart—went to Becky. “Oh, God, please be with Becky and Eden. They must be so scared and confused.” She still didn’t know exactly why Mack Preston had brought a gun into the Beacon office.
The police officers had already left the building, and Mr. Merrick broke up the powwow and sent everyone home for the day. “If you feel up to it,” he told Michelle, “I’ll call the police station and have them send over an officer to take official statements from you and Rob—and debrief you.”
“Sure. I really am fine. The doctor said it was just a superficial wound.” Even saying the words, it seemed unbelievable that she’d come that close to taking a bullet.
“Let’s go back to the break room,” Rob said.
“Yes,” Mr. Merrick agreed. “Go get something to drink and rest until the police get here.” He dug around in his pants pocket and handed Rob a few nickels. “Get her a pop, would you?”
“Sure.” Rob put a hand at the small of her back and steered her to the break room.
He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down, grateful for the support. She was feeling a little light-headed in spite of assuring everyone how great she felt.
Rob fed the machine the nickels and brought her a cold Coke. “You look a little peaked.”
“I think it’s starting to catch up with me.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
He reached across the table and put a hand over hers. “Just so you know, you scared me to death.”
“Sorry.” She tried to look contrite.
“Good grief, it’s not your fault.”
“I know.” She took a sip from the can and set it down on the table. Her hand was cool from the can, and she placed her palm on her forehead. She was glad Rob was here. Something about his presence calmed her and made things seem normal.
Mr. Merrick popped into the room. “Officer Barclay is here. Rob, why don’t you come talk to him first?”
Rob turned to her. “You sure you’re okay?”
She nodded. “Go on… Break a leg.”
His grin lifted her spirits more than anything else could have.
Left alone in the room, the events of the afternoon swirled in her head. Suddenly everything started to sink in. What had happened was serious. Someone could have been killed. She had come within inches of death. The details were sketchy, but from what some of the Beacon employees had said earlier, it sounded as if Becky Preston’s husband blamed the newspaper for breaking up his marriage. He’d gone off the deep end and brought a gun to the office. But why had he shot into the darkroom? Did he know she was in there? Had he purposely targeted her?
The pop machine’s motor kicked on, and Michelle’s heart jumped into her throat. She assumed Mack Preston was in custody. Surely after what had happened, they wouldn’t let him walk.
Maybe she should have gone home with Mom and Dad. Right now, the thought of going back to her empty apartment after the police dismissed her made her tremble. Was this how Becky had felt every night since Mack got out of jail?
Becky. She needed to talk to her. Would Becky and Eden have stayed at the house after what happened with Mack? Probably. They didn’t have anywhere else to go, as far as she knew. She pushed back her chair and started for the door. Maybe the cops would give her more information about Becky’s situation. But either way, she was determined to see her friend tonight and make sure she and Eden were okay.
She started down the hall toward Mr. Merrick’s office, where they’d been conducting the interviews. She could see Rob standing near the door with one hand on the handle. Mr. Merrick and the cop were laughing about something, and Rob was smiling. Things mus
t not be too serious.
She moved closer, wishing they’d hurry up. She felt an urgency about going to see Becky now. She cleared her throat loudly enough that all three of them turned to look at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but if it’s going to be much longer, I wonder if I could wait until tomorrow to give my statement?”
“I’m finished,” Rob said, looking at her with a question in his eyes. He came out into the hallway and lowered his voice. “Are you still doing okay? Do you want me to take you home?”
“I need to go see Becky. If she knows what happened, she must be terrified.”
He nodded, sobering. “Why don’t you go ahead and give your statement, and then we’ll go together.”
“Would you mind?”
“No. I’ll go with you. The interview won’t take long.”
He shook the officer’s hand and excused himself, telling Michelle, “I’m going to go work on a story until you’re done.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She forced a smile and walked into Mr. Merrick’s office.
Merrick stayed at his desk and observed while Officer Barclay asked her a series of questions about what she’d seen and heard while she was in the darkroom. She answered them as honestly as she could, alarmed at how fuzzy the whole incident was in her mind already.
“And you’ve never met Mack Preston.”
“I’ve never met him, but—I was there when he was arrested at the end of August. I know his wife and daughter, though.”
“Oh?” The cop’s eyebrows went up.
“Mack went to jail after we did that story.”
“They still get newspapers in jail, you know.”
Michelle looked to Mr. Merrick, willing him to say something since she didn’t have a clue how to respond.
Apparently her expression conveyed her angst, because her boss gave her a look that said, “Let me take it from here.” He leaned forward. “Are you implying that the story we ran is what prompted Preston’s…visit to the Beacon this afternoon?”
The officer shifted in his chair. “Well, the guy’s not saying much since we took him in, but you said yourself, Mr. Merrick—and your employees concurred—that judging by his rant, he had a grudge against the newspaper. In particular, he wanted the photos that were taken the day of his arrest.”
So that’s why he’d shot through the darkroom. Had Becky told him about the photos? Michelle wracked her brain to remember whether they’d credited the photo that ran with the story. They usually did put photo credits in the cutline, but she hadn’t been aware of the paper’s policies back then. She did remember telling her parents that she hadn’t taken the photo, so maybe that meant there wasn’t a credit line.
“Do—do you think Mack Preston thought Rob was in the darkroom?” She aimed the question at the policeman. If Mack somehow knew Rob had taken the picture, then his mission at the Beacon today might have been personal. Rob could have been killed!
She was certain she’d heard Rob’s voice in the midst of the chaos, but she couldn’t remember whether it was before or after the shot was fired. She hated that everything was such a blur. Of all the times she needed her memory to be sharp…
Officer Barclay took off his cap and scratched his head. “We’re not sure about his motives, Miss Penn. But he’s in custody now, and we don’t believe anyone here at the Beacon is in danger. Until we’ve had time to review the evidence and the testimonies of witnesses, we really can’t say more.”
She nodded. “May I go home now?”
Mr. Merrick asked the officer’s permission with a lift of his brows.
“Yes. We may have further questions as our investigation progresses, but that’s all for now. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Thank you.” She pushed back her chair and rose to leave.
“Oh. One more thing, Miss Penn. You said that you’re acquainted with Mack Preston’s wife and daughter?”
“Yes.” Something told her she shouldn’t elaborate unless they forced her to.
“I strongly advise that you have no contact with Mrs. Preston.”
“No contact? But why?”
“You may be called upon to testify if this case goes to trial.”
Chapter 26
The police officer’s words left her speechless. First Rob and now Becky? This was America, last time she’d checked. And now she’d been forbidden to be friends with two people she cared deeply for. Three. She swallowed back tears at the thought of not being able to see Eden.
Officer Barclay’s features softened. “There’s no trial date at this point. We can’t coerce you to have contact, or not, with any persons at this point, but you should be aware of the implications should you be called as a witness.”
“I…understand. May I go now?”
“I’m finished.” Officer Barclay looked for Mr. Merrick to concur.
“Yes, you may go. Thank you, Miss Penn.”
Michelle left Mr. Merrick’s office in a stupor and headed straight for Rob’s cubicle.
He swiveled his desk chair to face her as soon as she stepped into his doorway. “Hey, how’d it go?” He studied her for a moment. “You don’t look so hot.”
“Did they say you couldn’t talk to Becky or Eden?”
“What? No. Is that what they told you?”
She nodded, close to tears.
“But why? Preston is in custody.” He moved a stack of old news releases off the extra chair in his cubicle and patted the seat. “Sit down. You look like you’re going to faint.”
She waved him off. “I’m fine.” But she took the chair anyway.
“There’s no way they’re going to let Preston out on bail.”
“It’s not that. They said I might have to testify if it goes to trial.” She eyed him. “Did you tell them Becky and I are friends?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say a word. You didn’t tell them?”
“I guess I mentioned that we were acquainted.” She told him about Officer Barclay’s comment about Preston getting a newspaper in jail. “It sounds like Mack had a grudge against the paper. Did you hear him say that when he—went on his rampage?”
“He wanted the photos I took that day at his house.”
“Why’d he wait till now?”
“Well, he hasn’t been out of jail that long. I don’t know…maybe Becky threatened to leave him. Did she say anything to you about it?”
“No. She rarely talks about Mack. She knows I’ve never thought she should stay with him.”
“Hopefully she sees the wisdom of your opinion now.”
“I have to go see her, Rob. This is going to kill her.” She told him what the policeman had said about him not being able to coerce her.
“He may not be able to, but I bet my dad will try.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s not going to like you talking to Becky, Mish. The woman’s husband could have killed every person in this office today. This whole thing could have been tragic. God was looking after you today.”
She hung her head. “I know.” And she was grateful. But she wasn’t killed today. And she wasn’t going to let this dictate who her friends were. At least not where Becky was concerned. “This is not Becky’s fault, Rob. I’m sorry, but I don’t care what anyone says. Mack has already stolen so much from her. I’m not going to let him steal her friends too. I’m going to find out if she’s okay. See what kind of help she needs.”
“I understand.”
“It’s bad enough your dad won’t let us—” She stopped herself. One really had nothing to do with the other. And she didn’t want to cause a rift between father and son. Besides, as far as she knew, Rob hadn’t made an effort to challenge his father’s stupid policy. If he didn’t care enough to try to change things, then maybe she was fooling herself to think that he really cared about her.
“I’ll go with you.”
She looked up, surprised. “You don’t have to. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
“You don’t have to go,” she said again. “I know I don’t have to. But I want to. That little squirt Eden kind of wrapped me around her finger.” He gave her a crooked grin that made her stomach do funny things. “Let’s go.”
“Okay. Let me get my stuff.” She went to her cubicle and gathered her purse and the notes for a couple of stories she was working on.
“I’ll drive,” Rob said as he led the way through the office to the back door.
She climbed into the passenger seat of his Pinto, and he started the engine. They rode in silence for a few minutes. And the closer they got to Becky’s house, the tighter the knot in her belly grew.
She looked over at Rob, who looked a little tense himself.
“I don’t even know what to say to Becky,” she told him.
He sighed. “I know. I’m sitting here trying to think how I’d want to be treated if I was in her shoes, and I can’t even answer that question.”
“I’d probably want to crawl into a hole and never come out.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “And I know it’s hard to face people at first, but once you get that over with, it’s not so bad. Then you’re glad to be around people…glad to have someone to talk to.”
“You sound like you’re talking about something personal.”
He became intent on the road.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
He acted as if he hadn’t heard her, but when they turned onto Donner Avenue, he pulled the Pinto over to the curb several blocks from the Prestons’ home. He put the car in Park, turned off the engine, and angled himself in the seat beside her. “I was thinking about—when my mom died.” His Adam’s apple worked in his throat.
“How old were you…when she died?”
“I was nine. Nine and a half. It happened in the summer.”
Silver Bells Page 15
