She tugged her jacket closed and zipped it, then searched out her assigned car and opened the trunk to toss in her bag. Hospital first, she decided. Let’s find out the bad news. She got in the car, then drove carefully out of the parking lot and onto the icy streets.
It wasn’t that big a town and the drive to the hospital was fairly short. At midday, the place didn’t seem that busy, and she parked in the half empty visitor’s lot. She spotted a news truck parked near the back entrance, though, and several cars haphaz-ardly pulled up near it, and her suspicions were confirmed when she entered the main doors and saw the cluster of men and women, complete with cameras, standing nearby.
Will they recognize me? she wondered. The national news people had pegged her in DC, but it had taken a while, and these locals hadn’t seen her in a few years, if at all, given the turnover rate.
Certainly, if they were old timers, they wouldn’t expect the girl they’d known in lace blouses and knee length skirts, with carefully styled hair and a model slim build, to have morphed into the muscular figure in jeans and a leather jacket she knew she presented today.
Her attitude had changed as well. Kerry had studied Dar’s use of her considerable charisma and personal energy when she interacted with others, and she’d tried to inject a little of that dynamic into her own personality. Part of it was self confidence, which success at her job had given her, and part of it was an awareness of herself and her effect on other people. “Excuse me.”
She moved past the reporters with a polite nod.
They didn’t even give her a second glance. Kerry repressed a smile as she went to the reception desk. She waited for the woman behind the desk to look up, then leaned forward a little. “Could you tell me where in CCU Roger Stuart is?”
The woman gave her an immediate, guarded look, and glanced behind her at the reporters. “Are you family, ma’am?”
Kerry removed her driver’s license and showed it to the woman. “Yes.”
A quick look at the license, then at Kerry’s face, and the receptionist replied, “Hold on a moment,” as she got up and motioned for a guard. “George will take you up. George, CCU 4, okay?”
“Yes’m.” The tall, red haired guard nodded. “Come this way, please.”
Kerry followed the man through a restricted access door and down a long hallway to where a small elevator was located. Very Thicker Than Water 41
few people were in the hall, just two orderlies pushing beds and one man with an X-ray machine. She followed the guard into the elevator and waited while he inserted a key and pressed a floor.
“You part of the senator’s family?” the guard asked.
Kerry nodded. “Yes. He’s my father.”
“Hm.” The elevator reached its destination and he held the door for her. “Second alcove on your right, ma’am.”
Kerry stepped out and walked quietly across the tile floor.
Her heart pounded and shivers went up and down her spine. She could hear, faintly, the sounds of machinery around her—beeps and the gurgling of oxygen and it reminded her unpleasantly of Dar’s stay in the hospital down south.
Outside the room she paused, hearing voices. One was her mother’s. It didn’t sound good.
Oh boy. Kerry steeled herself, then took a deep breath and forced her legs to move forward into the room where a circle of strange, familiar faces ringed a bed full of lines and machines, and the almost hidden form she realized was her father.
Eyes shifted and looked at her, some in surprise, some in distress, as the doctor who’d been speaking broke off his speech and turned. “Are you part of the family here?”
It was a very awkward moment. Kerry had no idea what the real answer to that question was.
“That’s my daughter,” Cynthia Stuart murmured. “Please, go on, Doctor. Kerrison, come here.”
There wasn’t much else she could do. Kerry walked across the silent room to her mother’s side, shocked when her hand was grabbed and held in desperation. She felt Angie move closer to her as they turned and faced the somber looking man in the white coat.
“Ms. Stuart,” the doctor said gently, “we were just going over what we mean when we talk about a coma.”
DAR ALMOST HAD to laugh when she looked up to see Mark peeking cautiously around the door to her office. “Yes?” she growled.
“You…um…ready to review that firmware?” Mark asked.
“I’ve got my whole bunch of guys reviewing how something got upgraded and we missed it.”
She picked up her cup of steaming coffee and sipped it.
“Sure.” Now soberly dressed in her iron gray suit and silk shirt, she leaned back and watched as he entered with a clipboard. “So, how’d we do?”
Mark took a seat across from her. “I have no clue.” He 42 Melissa Good grinned briefly. “Here’s the network paths to the dump; I figured you’d know what to do with them.” He handed the clipboard to Dar. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” Dar accepted it and reviewed the page, then glanced up to catch Mark intently studying her. One of her eyebrows lifted. “Something wrong?”
He hesitated, then gave her a slight shrug. “Didn’t expect to see you here so early.”
“Earlier I start, earlier Alastair has his answer,” Dar replied.
“Why don’t you take off?”
“I got some sleep in the center,” Mark said. “What about you?”
Dar sighed. “Kerry had to fly up to see her family. Wasn’t much time to sleep.”
Mark nodded. “I saw on the newscast he was sick. Stroke, they said, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That sucks,” Mark said. “I know stuff is all screwed up between her and her family, but it still sucks.” He glanced around.
“Listen, Dar, if you want to head up there, I can try and…”
It was almost funny. Dar rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers and wondered how she had managed to get her entire staff to morph overnight into solicitous nannies. “Mark, get your ass out of here and go figure out how the hell we slipped up by not testing that new release before it got put into production.
Something got missed.” She pinned him with a look. “Now!”
He jumped. “Okay.” One hand lifted. “Okay, I get the message, boss. No problem.” He slid out of the chair and ducked around the door, leaving Dar in peace.
Silence settled for a moment before she pulled her keyboard in front of her and called up the files, glad of the large, flat screen with its crisp display. However, tired as she was, she couldn’t avoid acknowledging the fuzziness of the characters unless she squinted at them, and she admitted to herself that her long deferred trip to the optometrist’s had to be well and truly scheduled.
Damn. Her lips quirked in annoyance. The hell if I want to wear glasses. A scowl appeared as she started up her analysis program.
Or contact lenses.
Hey. She studied the screen for a moment, then tapped it with one long finger. If I only need the blasted things when I look at the monitor… A sly grin crossed her face. Why not just have whatever adjustment I need built into a screen shield?
“Yeah.” Dar felt a little more cheerful. She settled back and reviewed the files. As the screen filled with data, she searched for Thicker Than Water 43
patterns, trying to ignore the growing unease inside her guts.