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“Do you need food? I could bring over something. Or . . . babysitting? I know your boy is about six.”
“Owen’s at pre-K. Thanks. I think I’m okay.”
“Would you just like some company? I’ve had a kind of rough time myself and could use a friend.”
“Umm . . .” Delta drew a blank. She wasn’t going to meet Amanda till 5:00. No meeting at the law firm, which was fine with Delta. “There’s a news crew here, so I’m planning to leave and just get away for a while.”
“Come to my house,” Zora invited.
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to go hit a double feature. I just want time to pass till tonight.”
“I’ll go with you, if you want me to. I’d love to.”
Zora had never been so eager to be Delta’s friend since the end of high school and the Five Firsts. “Sure,” she said, and they agreed to meet at the mall cinemas.
Inside her Audi, Delta pressed the button to lift the garage door and backed out a little more quickly than she’d intended. Luckily, this crew was smart enough not to block the drive this time. Still, the young, balding male reporter from Channel Four came right up to her window as she backed into the street.
“Your book Blood Dreams starts with a woman stabbing her husband to death,” he called through the closed window. “That’s either a macabre coincidence or a blueprint for murder. Care to comment?”
“Oh, no,” Delta whispered beneath her breath. They’d found her e-book.
She put the car in DRIVE and started forward, the man trotting alongside her window.
“Any other scenes we should expect to see come to life?”
Asshole. She pressed her toe to the accelerator, and the Audi jumped forward as if in a race.
Chapter 20
Quin was already at work when McCrae came through the back door of the station at 6:00 a.m. and headed for the break room, his mind full of thoughts about Delta Stahd. Before he could get settled, Quin found him and beckoned him back to his office. Corinne walked slowly by the door and stopped, looking in on them.
“You see the news?” Quin asked McCrae.
“Yep,” he clipped out. Ellie O’Brien’s report on Tanner’s life had been fine, but the follow-up with Lester Stahd had devolved into accusations, condemnations, and recriminations against Delta that held only enmity and rage, no facts.
He looked back at Corinne, who said, “Social media’s exploded, too, about half for and half against her.”
“You’re still in her camp?” Quin asked him.
“I’m not going to make any judgments about her on hearsay and emotion. I’m going to go through the clinic records. Talk some more to the employees. See if there are any grudges. Any previous break-ins, that kind of thing. Find some possible motives.”
“Mr. Hurston is coming in to talk to you,” Corinne said.
“Why?” McCrae asked.
She shrugged lightly and left.
McCrae looked at Quin, who said, “Might be a good time to go to Eugene.”
“In the heat of the Stahd homicide? No. And why’s Hurston coming today?”
“You sure you didn’t say something to Corinne about Carville?”
“Positive.”
Quin shook his head. “Hell hath no fury . . .”
“I don’t have time for thi
