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That was when Marlowe looked down and realized that she still hadn’t put anything on. She was still nude.
“Oh. Right,” she mumbled. Her brain felt as if it was stuck in first gear.
Moving quickly, Bowie picked up her scattered clothes and laid them out for her on the bed. His heart ached for Marlowe. She looked so stricken, so lost, it was as if she was moving through a fog, searching for her footing.
“Do you need any help getting dressed?” There was nothing sexual or seductive implied in his offer. All he wanted to do right now was somehow help her get through this.
“I can manage,” Marlowe told him. She could barely squeeze the words out. They felt like shards scraping against her throat.
Bowie’s eyes, full of sympathy, met hers. “I know you can,” he said, doing his best to sound encouraging.
She was dressed in seconds.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready,” she blurted out.
They were back in his car and on the road to the hospital in less than two minutes.
* * *
In response to the attempted homicide, the hospital corridor directly outside the OR was crowded with people, drawn there by concern. They were all keeping vigil.
A quick scan of the immediate area told Marlowe that, just as Ace had said, her whole family was already there, even Ace, who had been conspicuously missing ever since the flare-up had happened between him and their father.
Marlowe’s siblings—even her older half brother Grayson, who didn’t work at Colton Oil and was not close to their father—were all surrounding Genevieve Colton. Another brother, Rattlesnake Ridge Ranch foreman Asher, stood next to their mother, who looked frightened and
terrifyingly frail and brittle. She gave every indication of a woman who was on the verge of falling apart.
Even Selina was there, hovering around along the perimeter. She gave Marlowe the impression of a vulture ready to pick the anticipated carcass clean the moment the last breath was drawn.
Deliberately ignoring her father’s ex-wife, Marlowe crossed to her mother and threw her arms around Genevieve, hugging her.
“Oh, Mother, how is he? Does anyone know what happened?” she asked, embracing the woman.
A little more composed now than when she had called Marlowe, Payne’s distraught wife gave their daughter what details she could, the same details that she had finally managed to give to the chief.
“The cleaning lady called me from your father’s office,” she said in a shaken voice. “She was the one who heard the shot.”
“So someone did shoot him?” Marlowe questioned, wanting to get straight as many details as she could. But just saying that sounded so incredible to her. Someone had shot her father.
Her mother pressed her lips together to keep from sobbing again. She wanted to get through this once and for all for Marlowe’s sake without breaking down.
“Payne was working late again,” she told her daughter. “The cleaning lady said she heard what she thought was a gunshot, followed by the sound of someone running away, and then a stairwell door being shoved open, then banging shut again. After that, she said there was nothing but silence. The brave woman ran toward the sound of the gunshot.
“Thank goodness she did,” her mother continued with feeling. “because she found your father lying on the floor, bleeding profusely from the wound in his chest. She immediately called the police. If she hadn’t done that, your father could have died without the proper medical attention.” Her voice hitched, and she pressed her fisted hand to her mouth, stifling another sob. “He still might,” she said, her voice breaking.
“Shh, don’t think that way, Mom,” Marlowe chided. “He’s going to pull through. Dad’s tough. He’s going to be all right,” she insisted.
Genevieve Colton was crying again. Marlowe could feel her mother’s muffled sobs against her shoulder, seeping into her clothing.
“I’ll take over, Marlowe,” Callum offered quietly, drawing their mother away from his twin and over toward him.
“Does anyone have any idea who did this?” Marlowe asked, looking around at her siblings to see if any of them could give her more information.
Murmured voices blended together in what seemed like non-answers. And then Ace’s voice rose above the rest. “The police said they were checking the security footage to see if it caught anyone in the vicinity of Dad’s office,” he told her. “But so far, all they know was that Dad was shot twice in the chest.”
“That’s either revenge or the killer was a damn poor shot,” Rafe said.
