Kerry exhaled, warming Dar’s skin right through her pullover. “Thank God you’re here,” she whispered. “But I’m sorry I’m putting you through this.”
Dar rested her cheek against Kerry’s hair. “I’m not sorry at all. So don’t you be either, Kerrison.”
Kerry tipped her head back and gazed up at Dar. “Do you Thicker Than Water 85
know, you’re the only person who has ever said that name in a way that makes me want to hear it more often?”
A tiny smirk appeared as Dar gracefully inclined her head.
“You do the same to me with mine. But don’t tell anyone, all right? It’ll wreck a lifetime of conditioning people not to use it.”
“No problem, Paladar.” Kerry found reason to smile, which felt strange after the past two days. “We’re going to have to go back to my parents’ house, you realize.”
Dar nodded. “I know.”
Kerry sighed and put her head back down on Dar’s shoulder.
“I don’t even know what to feel, Dar. Should I be crying?”
Dar was silent for a moment. “When they came and told us that Dad had died,” her voice was soft and reflective, “I didn’t cry at all.”
Kerry’s brows contracted. “Really?”
“Yes. Not for days. Then, I was at work and I was at my desk and…” A flash of that memory surfaced, twisting Dar’s guts. “It just hit me.” She paused. “That I was never going to see him again. And I lost it.”
“Mm.”
Even now, Dar felt the tears all over again. “I went into the Xerox room and locked the door and went to pieces for hours.”
Kerry thought about that. “Knowing how you feel about him, I’m not surprised. I don’t think that’s going to happen to me, though.”
Dar hugged her. “Maybe not. But give yourself a little time, okay?”
“Okay.” Kerry closed her eyes and wished it was over. “Dar?”
“Let me guess.” Dar gently scratched the back of Kerry’s neck and got a contented murmur. “You love me, right?”
“No,” Kerry said. “I love that you love me.” She gave Dar a big hug, then slipped an arm around her waist. “Let’s go get this started.”
“WAIT, MS. STUART! Can we get a statement!”
“Hold, on—look, that’s the brother, there. Go on!”
“Ms. Stuart, look this way!”
Kerry just kept her head down and kept walking, almost slipping as her boots stepped off the swept sidewalk and onto the snow covered parking lot. “Jesus.” She kept her hands in her pockets, aware of her uncles herding everyone along and her mother huddled between her and Michael. “Fucking ghouls.”
Cynthia Stuart’s head jerked up. “Kerrison!” she whispered, shocked.
86 Melissa Good
“Well, they are,” Kerry replied, as they dodged between two parked television news trucks and escaped the glare of spotlights.
Behind them, she could hear a spokesman yelling in vain for attention, and she was glad when the noise faded back, leaving them to the labored sounds of their own breathing and the crunch of snow underfoot.
The family limo and its driver were waiting for them, and doors opened quickly, allowing a gust of leather and wax-tinged warm air out. Kerry helped her mother inside, then stepped back.
“We’ll follow you.”
“Kerry, there’s room,” Angie protested. “Come on.”
“You go.” Kerry gave her a gentle shove and took a backwards stride almost into Dar’s arms. “We’ll be right behind you, I promise.” She closed the door behind Angie, then turned and let out a huge sigh, until she saw two reporters running their way, one with a camera balanced on his shoulder. “Oh, pud.”
Dar turned, saw them coming, and made one of the instanta-neous decisions that marked her long career. She stooped and grabbed a double handful of snow, then wadded it, let it go side-arm, and nailed the man with the camera right in the face. He stumbled, fell sideways on the ice, and knocked his companion right over.
“Let’s go.” Dar grabbed Kerry’s arm and plowed towards the rental car. “I’ll drive.”
“Oh no.” Kerry wrestled for the keys as they half walked, half slid together. “Now c’mon. Dar.”
“Let me,” Dar said. “For crying out loud, Kerry, I have an engineering degree. I can figure out how to drive on snow.” With a stern glare, she keyed the door lock and pulled the passenger side door open. “In.”
Kerry was about to argue, but spotted more reporters heading their way and decided she could always wrest control of the car from Dar after they got clear of the parking lot. She slid inside, closed the door, and leaned over to open the opposite one. Dar dropped in next to her and slammed the door, sending a tiny puff of snow cascading down the front windshield.
Dar cranked the ignition and turned the lights on to combat the fast gathering twilight. Then she paused, looking at the frosted windows. She pointed. “What the hell are you supposed to do with that?”
An exhausted Kerry stared at the window. “With what?”
“That.” Dar pointed at the ice. “Wipers won’t take that off.”
Kerry stared at her. “You use the defroster, Dar.” She leaned over and turned the device on. “What on earth did you think it was there for?”
Thicker Than Water 87
Dar frowned. “Clearing out the humidity when it rains.” She peered through the clearing glass, glad to see the reporters were now chasing the limo as it made its stately way out of the drive. It was cold out and she was shivering, unused to the damp chill which ate through her sweater and made her already aching shoulder throb. Add the fact that she’d left her medication at the hotel room and they’d missed lunch, and it made for a truckload of misery.
And now they were headed for more of it. Dar cautiously put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking space, following the tail lights of the limo. She tested the brakes and felt the lack of control in the car, her muscles automatically compensating for that. All right, Dar decided. I can do this.
She didn’t see Kerry half turned sideways in her seat, watching her with gentle, tired eyes, the faintest of smiles on her face.
“They going to want you to stay overnight?” Dar asked.
“Probably,” Kerry said.
“We don’t have a change of clothes.”
“We can sleep naked,” came the reasonable answer. “We usually do.”
Dar fought the desire to turn her head and stare at Kerry.
“Not in your family’s house, we don’t.”
“Mm.” Kerry exhaled. “That’s true.” She blinked slowly. “I have clothes left there, but I bet none of them fit.” The thought seemed to please her. “Maybe some old sweatshirts, if they didn’t get tossed, but definitely nothing that’d fit you.” She watched their progress along the street and grudgingly admitted that Dar was doing pretty well with the ice. “Maybe we should detour past the hotel.”
“Just what I was thinking,” Dar said. She pulled carefully to a halt at a red light, as the limo ahead of them went on. “You doing okay?” She glanced at Kerry, whose drawn face was painfully evident even in the low light. Before Kerry could answer, Dar’s cell phone rang, startling both of them.
“That’s been quiet,” Kerry murmured.
Dar took it out and opened it. “Yeah?”
“Dar.”
Alastair’s voice sounded much, much calmer than it had earlier. That served to make Dar’s stomach tie up in knots, and she wondered if she was on the verge of being fired. She decided she really didn’t care. “Evening, Alastair,” she said, putting the car into motion as the light turned green. “Right, up ahead?” Kerry nodded. “What’s up?” she asked Alastair.