Page 51 of Rancher to the Rescue

The room was dimly lit and there were four metal fold-up chairs a foot away that faced the window. Adam had to pull a chair back a couple of feet to fit. He’d been quiet on the way in. Meeting Libby’s parents for the first time was messing with his head.

The very real possibility they could take their grandchild away before the paternity test came back was a hot poker to his chest. If he had to get a lawyer and fight to stop it from happening, he wouldn’t think twice. The family lawyer would have contacts in the adoption arena.

If Libby hid her baby from her parents, she had to have had a good reason. Doubts crept in at how well he’d actually known his ex-girlfriend, though. She never mentioned anything about coming from money. Based on the society page pictures he’d seen last night, her family had to be doing well.

Tension and frustration caused the spot between his shoulder blades to act up. He rolled his shoulders a couple of times in an attempt to ease the strain.

Prudence scooted her chair closer to his. She reached over to him, and he took her hand, clasping their fingers together. One look at her said she was mulling over the same possibility and didn’t like it any more than he did.

“I don’t care who they are,” she said under her breath. “We won’t let them take her.”

“The law might see it differently,” he said. He didn’t have any plans to turn Angel over to strangers.

“Then, it’s our job to make them understand.”

He squeezed her hand as a couple walked into the adjacent room. They both had on suits. Mrs. Warrington’s came with a skirt. She had on navy blue while Mr. Warrington wore a steel gray. They were put together in a crisp, corporate look. Not a hair was out of place on Mrs. Warrington and her oversized pearls were the right compliment to soften her look.

Libby had been the perfect mix of her parents. Her father’s sun-kissed skin. Her mother’s flawless complexion. Her father’s blond hair and her mother’s oval face. They had the kind of bodies that came from a gym or yoga class, maybe both.

“They look awfully put together for people who just found out their daughter was murdered,” Prudence whispered.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he admitted.

The only tell was when they turned to face the mirror. There were dark circles under Mr. Warrington’s eyes. Mrs. Warrington dabbed hers with a delicate white handkerchief.

Lawler instructed them to sit down, which they did.

When Mrs. Warrington sat down, she put her face in her hands and it was like someone had let the air out of a balloon. Her husband placed an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

“This is a very difficult time for our family. Please make this brief,” Mr. Warrington said.

“I’ll do everything I can to keep this brief.” Lawler’s back was to the window and his heft blocked some of Adam’s view.

Mrs. Warrington shuddered before sitting up again. When she did, he expected to see mascara smudges on her cheeks. Her makeup was flawless.

Lawler launched into a sincere monologue of how sorry he was for their loss before asking his first question.

“When were you notified of your daughter’s murder?” he asked.

Mrs. Warrington blew her nose in her hanky. She tucked it away after that and took in a breath. Of the two of them, she seemed to be taking the news the hardest. Her husband’s back was stiff and he immediately retracted his arm once she seemed able to go on.

“I can’t remember much of anything,” Mrs. Warrington said. “I’m afraid I won’t be any good to you.”

“We were notified the morning before yesterday.” Mr. Warrington stared at the ceiling where it met the wall in the corner of the room. His chin quivered but he pulled it together, glancing down at his slacks and picking imaginary lint off them.

His wife nodded but didn’t look up.

Despite their chilly exterior, it was easy to see they cared about what happened to their daughter.

Lawler asked a few routine-sounding questions.

“Is it strange to you they’ve been here…” Prudence glanced at the clock on the wall, “fifteen minutes already and have yet to ask about their granddaughter?”

“As a matter of fact, I was just about to make the same observation.” He’d noted their lack of interest.

“I’d like to thank you for coming here so early this morning,” Lawler seemed ready to wrap the interview up.

“What about the child?” Mr. Warrington finally asked. He leaned forward like he was about to divulge a secret. “Is it possible to keep it out of the news?”