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"Actually, stunned. You're a better woman than I. And here I was, all proud of myself because I can finish the two-hour hike at Lake Massabesic in an hour and a half, and then go on to beat any of my coworkers in a canoe race. But when I'm done, I drag myself home to a yoga class, a hot bath, and a soft bed."
Susan laughed, reaching over to give Sabrina's arm a sympathetic pat. "Before you write off those accomplishments, I should tell you that my camping weekend isn't really as big a stretch as you'd think. Despite the way I come off, and the fact that I've lived in—and loved— Manhattan for fifteen years, I was raised in a rural town in upstate New York. I can milk a cow and plant tomatoes with the best of them. Back then, it was home cooking, not restaurants, and fresh air, not air-conditioning. So a few days of roughing it doesn't phase me. Although, I must admit, I prefer AC to humidity and a toasty bed to the freezing ground any time. And bugs... yuck. But the kids don't know that. And I don't plan to tell them."
"Your secret's safe with me," Sabrina assured her. With another fascinated shake of her head, she reminded herself of one of the iron-clad rules of her profession: Never judge a book by its cover. If this wasn't a perfect example of that, nothing was.
Studying the fashionable woman beside her, seeing the genuine pleasure on her face as she discussed the kids she helped, another, more important thought occurred to Sabrina. "I'm really impressed," she told Susan. "Not just with Carson, with you. Clearly, you love what you do, and you do it with your heart and soul. Helping those kids gives you great joy."
"Yes, it does." Susan's lightheartedness faded, her expression turning earnest. "I feel for them. And you're right, I have a tendency to throw myself into whatever I do. That was certainly the way it was when I first started YouthOp." She paused, and it was apparent she was trying to keep herself emotionally in check. "But, the truth is, my dedication to YouthOp is no longer rooted solely in altruism. Not since I met Carson." A hard swallow. "I'm sure you're aware of Carson's background. He's been written up in every business publication in the country—the street-kid-turned-business-mogul success story. Well, everyone sees him as he is now, a secure, dynamic, successful CEO. I keep picturing him as he must have been then—a frightened kid, a troubled teen—always alone, usually on the streets. If a program like this had existed back then... Well, let's just say I wish someone had extended a hand to him."
"I agree." Sabrina was deeply moved by Susan's words. "But in looking at Carson now, I see more than a successful CEO. I see a very lucky man—one who has loyal friends like Dylan and Stan, and a sensitive woman like you in his life. To my way of thinking, he's got a lot to be thankful for—and to live for."
Susan's eyes misted. "That's very kind of you."
At that moment, Stan Hager strode into the lounge. He was a stocky man of medium height with steel-gray hair and tight, solemn features. He glanced around the room until he spotted them. And when he did, and recognized the emotional scene taking place before him, he went sheet-white.
He was beside them in an instant. "What is it? Is Carson worse?"
"No, no, nothing like that." Susan dabbed at her eyes. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just talking about Carson and getting all sentimental. His condition's status quo. Dr. Radison removed the bullet. Detective Whitman took it to ballistics. Carson's resting now."
"But you saw him this morning?"
"Yes, before the surgery."
"And he was all right?"
"He was tired, but holding his own."
"What about his spirits—were they good?"
Susan blinked, startled by the barrage of questions. But a slight smile curved her lips as she answered. "Let's see. When I walked in, he immediately started complaining to Dr. Radison about not being allowed a conjugal rights visit. If prisoners are entitled to them, why not hospital patients, was his argument."
Stan relaxed a bit. "Sounds normal for Carson."
"I thought so." Susan made a puzzled gesture. "Is there a particular reason why you're more concerned than usual?"
A brief hesitation. "He just sounded a little distracted when I called earlier. But he hadn't slept well. That was probably it."
"He did have a rough night," Sabrina confirmed, watching Carson's friend and wondering why he seemed so on edge. "I'm sure Dr. Radison left orders for him to be given something to help him relax before surgery."
"Yeah, true." Stan rubbed the nape of his neck as if it pained him. Abruptly, he seemed to realize how extreme he must be coming off, and how closely Sabrina was scrutinizing him. "Forgive my manners, Ms. Radcliffe," he said, addressing her for the first time. "I didn't even say hello."
"That's quite all right. You're worried. Everyone is. And by the way, please call me Sabrina, both of you. I'm not big on formalities." Another thing Carson and I have in common, she reflected silently.
She saw her own thought mirrored on Stan's face. But aloud all he said was, "We're all on a first-name basis. So you do the same."
"Absolutely," Susan concurred. "Oh, Stan. I'm sure you're here for that meeting Sabrina was just telling me about. Dylan hasn't arrived yet, but he must be on his way. I know Dr. Radison said noon, but if Carson's still groggy, the meeting could get a late start. Is that a problem?"
"Hmm? No, it's fine."
Sabrina had the distinct feeling that Stan didn't have a clue what meeting Susan was talking about. How odd was that? The guy was COO of Ruisseau, an aggressive go-getter, and a key officer of the corporation. Why would Carson leave him out of the loop? It made no sense, especially since Stan was in the loop about everything else. Besides, the official word was that Carson was bringing Sabrina on as a management consultant, a process his COO would be actively involved in. For Stan not to be right in the thick of things would seem strange and, most likely, out of character.
"Stan?" Obviously, that was the case, because Susan looked astonished. "You are here for that meeting, aren't you?"
Realization struck, and his entire demeanor changed. "Of course. Just for the first few minutes though. Doctors orders. When I broached the subject, Radison put his foot down about three of us being in Carson's room at once. So I'll get a recap from Carson later today." He frowned. "I'm not sure what time. Whenever I wrap up with Whitman and Barton."
Sabrina leaned forward. "The detectives?"
"Yup. They're coming by my office at two-thirty." He tried to sound nonchalant. Instead, he sounded like a rubber band about to snap. "They're grilling everyone at Ruisseau. They've been trying to pin me down to do the same. We set up an official meeting. From what I've heard about these interrogation sessions from the rest of the staff, I'm not looking forward to it"
