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Caroline sat bolt upright. "What's happened?"
"Starks has been at it again. I'll give you the scoop on the way."
He disappeared through the door connecting his room to theirs. Caroline and Berry looked at each other, each taking a moment to remember where they were, why they were there, what had happened to Sally Buckland, and what they'd talked about long into the night.
Then, as if a starting pistol had been fired, both flew into motion. Dodge returned within five minutes to find them dressed, suitcases packed, ready to leave. Because Ski had checked them in, and the sheriff's department was handling the bill, they were able to skip the checking-out process.
Dodge was curt with the valet parking attendant, who didn't retrieve their car as quickly as he wished. Berry couldn't help but be amused by his impatience, because she could relate to it. Like father, like daughter. The thought made her smile.
She wanted time to reflect on everything that her mother had told her last night. Caroline had talked until she was exhausted and Berry was too sleepy to retain any more information about the unorthodox love affair that had brought her into being. She and Caroline had agreed to wait for morning to continue, but the situation in Merritt had evidently become imperative. The rest of her parents' story, specifically why they'd been apart for thirty years, must keep for now.
Dodge snarled imprecations at Houston's rush-hour traffic. Caroline insisted that he allow time to get coffee at a fast-food drive-through. "You'll be unbearable until you have some."
"I guess a cigarette is out of the question."
She didn't even deign to answer, asking instead, "When are you going to tell us what happened? Has Oren Starks been captured?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"When I've had my coffee."
"You're just being mulish because I won't let you smoke."
"Sue me."
The drive-through line at McDonald's seemed interminable, but when they'd been fortified with steaming cups of coffee, Berry spoke from the backseat. "Now, Dodge. Start talking."
His summary of events was inadequate. Berry and Caroline began firing questions. "That's all I know," he said, talking over them. "Ski was called away before he could give me the details. He just said to get you back to Merritt, so that's what I'm doing. Besides, I want to get back there myself."
"You're tired of playing my babysitter."
He met Berry's eyes in the rearview mirror. "No. I just want to be there when this son of a bitch is captured. I didn't get face time with Creighton Wheeler, and I had a personal grudge against that guy for what he did to Maggie."
"Who's Maggie?"
"Derek's dog."
He told them the story of the Atlanta playboy who was now serving a life sentence in prison. "They've got him in a section for the really scary psychos, which is still too good for him. Kinda sad for his folks, though. For rich people, they're okay. Because of Creighton, most of their friends have abandoned them. Julie's good to them."
He rambled on. Berry realized he was doing so to keep her and her mother diverted during the drive to Merritt, but she didn't really mind. She now had a special interest in anything he said.
Having had her suspicion confirmed that he was her father, she'd found it hard to behave as though she was still in the dark about it. Even while rushing from the hotel, she had wanted to pause and study him. She was seeing him in a new light and wanted to learn everything she could about his life.
So she listened to his digressive monologue without interrupting, enjoying the sound of his gravelly voice, clinging to every word from his mouth, most of which were colorful, irreverent, or profane. Even though he talked largely about Derek and Julie Mitchell, Berry was able to piece together, from hints he inadvertently dropped, a few facts about his life. The picture that began taking shape in her mind was rather depressing.
As they approached their destination, he said, "Ski said we can join him at the scene if you can keep out of the way. Can you?"
She and Caroline promised not to do anything that would impede the investigation. Dodge rolled to a stop at the entrance gate of an RV park. A car with the sheriff's office insignia on the door was parked horizontally, blocking the road. A deputy got out and walked over to them, leaning down to address Dodge. "Mr. Hanley?"
"You got it."
"Follow this main road to the first fork. Go left. You'll see the commotion."
The deputy returned to his car and pulled it onto the grass long enough for Dodge to drive through the gate. The park was well maintained and pretty. Berry, thinking back on what Dodge had told them earlier, asked, "How old did Ski say they were?"
"Seventy-something."
