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It wasn’t a confession, but Stahd seemed to take it that way. He drew himself up and looked about to launch himself at Delta. McCrae moved between them, on alert.
“You.” Stahd pointed a shaking finger at McCrae. “I’ll sue the police for protecting a killer! You’ll lose your job. Maybe you were even in on it.”
Lori groaned.
McCrae turned to her. “You all right?”
“You leave my wife alone,” Stahd growled.
“I’m fine,” said Lori, though she looked ready to collapse. Delta knew she probably appeared the same way.
“I’m going to my mother’s,” Delta said for McCrae’s benefit. “The press . . .” She lifted a hand and then wearily dropped it again. “This’ll bring them back.”
“You’re only concerned about yourself,” Stahd shot out. His jaw was thrust forward pugnaciously. Apparently, his only way to deal with grief was through anger.
“I can’t believe he’s gone.” Delta’s words were little more than a whisper.
Lester practically spit on the floor. McCrae stood by, watchful, a wall of protection, which only seemed to infuriate Lester more, though Delta was grateful for the support.
Lester ground out, “I’m taking my grandson. You’re going to jail. Owen needs a stable home.”
“Owen’s my son. He’s staying with me.” Delta was sure about that.
“You killed his father.”
“You don’t get to say that. You know I didn’t. I couldn’t. And Owen’s mine. I know you’re grieving, but stop it. This isn’t helping any of us.”
“I’m suing you,” he said, then, as if gaining strength from the very words, repeated them. “I’m suing you.”
“Let’s everybody take a breather,” said McCrae.
“Lester, let’s go home,” said Lori.
“I want to see my son,” the older man snapped. “And then justice will be served.”
Delta’s eyes were starting to sting. She wanted to protest her innocence some more, but Tanner’s father wasn’t listening.
“You took him from me,” he said, his voice wavering a bit.
“No . . .”
“Somebody has to pay!”
“Lester!” Lori was more insistent this time.
“I’m going see my son,” he declared belligerently, as an attendant, maybe hearing the raised voices, came to see what was wrong.
Delta turned away from them and headed blindly back toward the elevators. She was repeatedly smashing her uninjured palm against the button when McCrae came up next to her.
“I didn’t do it,” Delta said again. She’d lost count of how many times she’d said those words.
“Do you need a ride home?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Can’t keep depending on West Knoll’s finest,” she said, though the idea of having him take her was tempting. “I need to go to my mom’s. My son’s there and . . . and . . . I don’t know what to do. Get groceries?” She choked out a hysterical laugh.
