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If only she had her phone.
With no clock or watch, she couldn’t see the minutes as they passed. Time felt compressed, or maybe stretched; either way, she had no sense of how long it had been since she heard anything but Jacob.
Except suddenly there were voices downstairs, loud commanding ones. Richard, insisting she come out and hand over Jacob? No, that was an exclamation of alarm. It couldn’t be Seth, could it? How would he have known to come?
In the act of fumbling to undo the old-fashioned lock, her fingers froze. Michael wouldn’t have had a chance to call 9-1-1 until after the shooting stopped. If he was alive.
No, she didn’t dare assume this was a police response.
* * *
SETH SWORE VICIOUSLY at the sight of his father on the floor, leaning against the wall but listing to one side. His left hand was clamped to his bloody shoulder. His right hand held a gun that rested on his thighs. Blood matted his hair, and his eyes were glassy.
“Dad!” Seth crouched beside him and gently pried the weapon from his hand.
“I hit the bastard. He must have been wearing a vest.”
“But you aren’t.” Should have provided one, he thought—except he’d convinced himself nobody would find Robin here.
“Robin and the boy, upstairs,” his father grunted.
“Gunman?”
“Gone.”
The deputy was suddenly there. “Ambulance is en route.”
Seth swiveled on his heels. “Will you stay with him?”
“Yeah, let me grab something to stop the bleeding.” He returned in seconds with a pile of kitchen towels.
Seth didn’t holster his Glock as he moved silently up the stairs. If his father had hit his head, he could have briefly lost consciousness and not know it. If he had...
Seth called, “Robin?”
“Seth?”
Relief at hearing her voice poured through him. “Jacob with you?”
“He’s... We were in the bathroom.”
Once he reached the hall above and saw her waiting, he wanted desperately to take her in his arms. Instead, he ordered her to go back into the bathroom while he cleared this floor. That didn’t take long. Through his own bedroom window, he saw the circus outside: four police vehicles all with flashing lights, and an ambulance coming up the driveway.
How had the intruder made his getaway? The roads had been empty for the past half a mile or more.
Once he had holstered his handgun and returned to the bathroom, he couldn’t stop himself from gathering woman and boy into an embrace that was probably too tight.
* * *
ROBIN SAT IN a chair holding Jacob on her lap, and watched Seth pace the waiting room. He hadn’t wanted to let her come to the hospital, but she’d pointed out that hiding was currently hopeless. Richard knew where she was.
Besides, if she and Jacob hadn’t accompanied him, Seth would have had to post at least one officer to guard her at his father’s house. That seemed wasteful.
Guilt balled in her stomach like a too-big serving of potato salad that had gone bad. Twice someone had offered to get her a soda, but Robin had shaken her head both times. She was already queasy.
She should never have let Seth take her and Jacob to his father’s house. Now Michael was in surgery to have a bullet removed. He’d been shot because of her, just as it was her fault that a perfectly nice woman had been brutally murdered and her family left to grieve. She felt like a Jonah, endangering everyone around her. Sooner or later, Seth would notice that her life was a train wreck and get smart enough to jump out of the way.
On his circle around the room, he paused in front of her. “You okay?”
Robin nodded, even though she wasn’t.
“Let me take him.” Seth bent to reach for the small boy she held.
Sound asleep, Jacob became deadweight. Her arm had gone numb twenty minutes ago. Still, she made an automatic protest. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Seth growled, and pried the boy out of her arms. Jacob’s eyelids didn’t even flicker during the transfer. Holding Jacob snugly against one shoulder, Seth went back to pacing. The sight was incongruous given that he still wore a Kevlar vest and a handgun at his hip. A man simultaneously capable of violence and tenderness.
