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She needed to talk to Hale. And she needed to talk to Declan Sr.
“Take a seat, Savannah,” the sheriff said, gesturing to the chairs on the opposite side of the desk as he settled his bulk into his desk chair, which creaked and groaned under his weight. When she did as instructed, he said, “Last week we were going to put you on desk duty today, as I recall.”
“We were going to meet today and discuss it.”
“And how are you feeling?”
“A lot of things have happened. I’m . . . still processing,” Savvy admitted.
“But you’re here at work.”
“This is the one area that I feel certain about right now. My job.” She gave him a weak smile. Lang’s words still rang in her ears, and her head was full of thoughts of Hale . . . and little Declan . . . and Catherine’s warnings....
“You still want to be out in the field.”
“Yes.” She was adamant.
“If you feel ready, I don’t see any reason to hold you back,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said with feeling.
“I’m sorry about your sister. We all are.”
Savvy nodded as she got to her feet. Feeling like she’d gotten past a huge obstacle, she walked back toward the squad room and then felt something wet on her chest. Looking down at her gray shirt, she saw two wet spots spreading across her breasts.
May Johnson was just coming out of the break room. “What?” she asked, seeing Savvy had stopped short.
“My milk just came in,” Savannah said.
“What did you say?” Hale asked, the receiver of his landline pressed to his ear, as he watched the nanny, Victoria, carry the baby toward his nursery, cooing to him.
“Your mother’s on her way,” Declan repeated, sounding pleased.
Hale let that information process slowly. He’d figured out how to put in the new car seat, and he’d driven Declan home, with Victoria following behind in her car. His head was full of thoughts of bringing the baby home and settling him in. Thinking of his mother, who, in her way, was as bullheaded as her father—probably why they didn’t get along—made him feel like the precarious merry-go-round he’d been riding was about to spin out of control. “My mother is flying in from Philadelphia?”
“I told her about little Declan. She should be here in Portland tonight.”
“How’s she getting to the coast? The roads are still a mess.”
“Oh, they’re fine. I saw it on the news. She’s a grandmother, Hale,” he said, as if that explained away irrational behavior. “She’s going to want to see the boy. I do too. I’m getting out of my driveway this afternoon and coming up there to see him. Maybe I’ll stay overnight.”
“I’ll have someone come get you,” Hale said quickly. His grandfather’s driving ability was suspect at best and didn’t allow for any unexpected changes, like hazardous weather conditions.
“The roads are clearing. It’s fine.”
“They’re not that fine.” Hale thought his grandfather’s anxiousness could also be attributed to his belief that someone had been at his house.
“All right. Have someone come get me,” Declan grumbled. “But I want to be there when Janet shows up.”
“Mom shouldn’t drive over the mountains yet. It’s not safe.”
“Well, you tell her that when she lands. See how that goes over.”
Though Hale rarely saw his mother these days, he knew of her formidable will. What the hell? He’d inherited some of that, too. He could handle her. But he sure wished Declan would have let him tell his mother about the baby first. The surprising part was Janet and Declan rarely talked to each other. They’d been damn near estranged for all of Hale’s adult life.
“What time is she getting in?” Hale asked.
“Seven or so.”
