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She had the sudden imagine of him walking the floor with his own child someday. No gun, pajama pants hanging low on lean hips, powerful torso bare as he comforted his baby by skin-to-skin contact. Patient, strong, affectionate.
Her distress rose like floodwaters behind a dike.
He’d be an amazing father.
Robin had to move. Rising stiffly to her feet, she said, “I need the restroom.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“It’s just around—”
The blue eyes skewered her. “You don’t go anywhere without me. Remember?”
She nodded and let him usher her around the corner to an unoccupied restroom.
He opened the door and verified that it was empty before he let her go in.
She didn’t dawdle the way she might have if he hadn’t been hovering outside. Instead, they marched back to the waiting room.
Robin perched on the same chair she’d occupied before. “You still haven’t heard from Sergeant Hammond?”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
It felt like forever. Her sense of passing time was definitely skewed today.
She wasn’t certain that it was Richard who’d shot Michael, but she thought so. It was true she had barely caught a glimpse of the intruder, but mostly she was going on his voice. She knew his voice.
Seth hadn’t argued. In fact, even before his father was put in the back of the ambulance, he’d called the Seattle PD sergeant, asking him to locate her ex-husband.
The surgeon walked into the small waiting room, his mask dangling around his neck. “Detective Renner?”
Robin was on her feet without conscious thought. Seth faced him.
He smiled. “Your father came through the surgery fine. We’ll keep him overnight mostly because of the potential for concussion.”
A bullet had grazed his head. Michael, of course, had said it wasn’t more than a scratch.
“Good,” Seth said hoarsely. “When can I see him?”
Probably another forty-five minutes. A nurse would come out to get him.
After the surgeon left as quickly as he’d appeared, Seth sank onto a chair. For once, his vulnerability showed. “God. To think Dad had to retire to get shot.”
Robin’s guilt increased. She made herself sit down, too, but felt her whole body vibrating. “You mean, he had to meet me to get shot!” she exclaimed.
Seth frowned at her. “He wanted to help.”
“And look what happened,” she challenged him. “Will you let me leave?”
“Hell, no!” he snapped, anger flaring. “Is that what you think? You’re too much trouble?”
“I know I am!” Seeing Jacob squirm, she pressed her lips together.
Seth jiggled her son with easy competence until he settled back down in what was obviously a comfortable embrace. “No, Robin.” His voice was a rumble, bass to Richard’s tenor, suddenly soft with compassion in contrast to the frustration of a minute ago. “We’ll find a way out for you, and we’ll do it together.”
Looking down at her clasped hands, she nodded because that’s what he’d expect. He hadn’t said where she and Jacob would go next, who else would be at risk to try to keep them safe. When she found out, then she’d have to make a decision.
Seth’s phone vibrated on his hip. He picked it up, said, “It’s Hammond,” and answered with a terse, “Renner.”
When she reached for Jacob, he let her take him.
* * *
MORE TO KEEP from waking Jacob than because he expected to say anything he didn’t want Robin to hear, Seth walked out into the hall to take the call.
Hammond asked first about Michael.
“He’s out of surgery, no permanent damage. No thanks to Winstead. Did you have any luck finding him?”
“No.” The sergeant did not sound happy about it. “I’m getting the runaround from the law firm and his housekeeper. A senior partner claims Winstead is conducting confidential business this afternoon. Housekeeper says Mr. Winstead will be entertaining guests this evening for dinner. No, she didn’t see him this morning, but she rarely does. He is an early riser and has usually eaten and left the house by the time she arrives.”
“She doesn’t live in.”
