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"And this's something you really want to do?"
"Cross my heart."
Those words tend to be an indicator of deception. But the fact that she was going to sing even if she didn't want to wasn't necessarily bad. It's a positive developmental step toward adulthood to take on a challenge even if you'd rather not.
"That's great, honey. Everybody'll love to hear you. All right, good. I'm proud of you."
"I'm going to go practice now."
"Don't overdo your voice. You probably know the song backward by now. Hey, honey, is Jon there?"
"No, just Grandpa and me."
"Okay. I'll see you soon."
"Bye."
"Love you."
Where was Boling? Lost in the world of supercomputers, she guessed, still trying to crack the code of Stan Prescott's computer and the mobile that the unsub dropped in Orange County. But his not calling? That was odd.
Dance turned to see her mother walking quickly toward her.
"Katie! You're all right?" She called this before she got close. Heads turned at the urgent words.
"Sure. Fine." They hugged.
Edie Dance was a cardiac nurse here. She surveyed the elevator car. The blood, vomit, metal battered by panicked hands. The stocky woman, with short dark hair, shook her head then hugged her daughter. "How horrible," she whispered. "Somebody did this on purpose?"
"Yes."
"Are--oh, your face."
"Nothing. Got scratched a little, getting into the car."
"I can't imagine what it would be like to be trapped in there. How many people?"
"About fifteen. Pregnant woman. She'll be okay. Baby's fine. One person's pretty bad. An orderly here."
"No! Who?"
"I don't know. He tried to kill himself. He couldn't take the panic. He's okay now."
Edie Dance looked around. "Is Michael here?"
"He's meeting with his Crime Scene people. They're running scenes in the basement and next door, at the inn."
"Ah." Edie's eyes remained down the hall. "How's he doing? Haven't seen him for a while."
"Michael? Fine."
Body language skill is such a blessing...and a curse. Her mother had something to say, and Dance wondered if she was supposed to pry it out of her. That was often the case with Edie Dance.
But she didn't have to.
Her mother said, "I saw Anne O'Neil the other day."
"You did?"
