Red After Dark (Blackwood Security #13) - Elise Noble Page 0,75
Did Sirius do regular staff appraisals? I sincerely hoped not because I was the worst employee in the history of the world.
“It was just such a shock. Irvine fell down, and then the ambulance took forever to get there.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Isn’t that meant to be my line?”
“Not today, Beth. We’re a team, remember?”
He kissed my hair, and I took a deep inhale, his cashmere sweater soft against my cheek. Alaric smelled of man and laundry soap, two of the most comforting things imaginable at that moment.
“Could you try asking again if there’s any news? You’re more authoritative than me.”
Alaric glanced across to the desk in the far corner. The old battleaxe was still there, guarding the entrance to the kingdom while she played solitaire on her computer. I’d caught a glimpse of her screen the last time I ventured over there.
“Sure. Give me a minute.”
I expected him to prepare for a fight with the receptionist, but as he neared the desk, he straightened, squared his shoulders, paused to say a few words, and then strode right on past. What the hell? No buzzers went off. No sirens sounded. The woman just returned to her game as if nothing had happened.
Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty. At twenty-five, worry morphed into full-on fear, and I was soon shaking worse than Harriet. She was sobbing now, full of remorse for not spending enough time with her father, even though she’d needed to keep the farm going. Had Alaric been arrested for trespassing? Half an hour later, a doctor dressed in scrubs walked towards us, a stethoscope around his neck. Finally we might get some news, but I felt too sick to concentrate on anything but my missing boss.
Wait. Why was he heading towards me rather than Harriet? He peeled the paper mask away from his face, and I almost slapped him.
“What are you doing?” I hissed at Alaric.
“Getting information?”
“By imper—” I realised I was speaking too loudly. “By impersonating a doctor?”
He even had a bloody name badge. Dr. Patterson, Consultant Dermatologist. And one of those little paper caps too.
“You said you wanted information.”
“I meant to ask the receptionist!”
“I’ve seen her type before—more backbone than a hardened terrorist. She’ll never talk.”
A nurse walked past. “Doctor, do you know where Mrs. Montell went?”
“Sure, she’s in cubicle seven.”
The nurse walked off, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Is that true?”
“Of course. Cubicle seven’s right next to the nurses’ station. Mrs. Montell and I had a nice chat while I waited to use the computer.” Alaric’s face turned serious. “I should talk to Harriet.”
“You have news?”
He nodded, and I knew from his expression that it wasn’t good. Stéphane already had his arm around Harriet’s shoulders, and I squeezed one hand as Alaric crouched in front of her and took the other.
“Harriet, your father’s had a massive brain haemorrhage. They’re investigating possible treatment options at the moment, but it doesn’t look as if there’s much they can do. I’m so sorry.”
Well, Alaric certainly passed the test for bedside manner, although that didn’t make the revelation much easier to take. All the colour drained out of Harriet’s cheeks.
“There’s nothing? What about surgery?”
“With the size of the bleed, there’s likely to be too much damage for surgery to be viable.”
“I-I-I don’t know what to do.”
“He’s on life support. I expect they’ll let you see him soon.”
“To say goodbye? We may not have seen eye to eye some of the time—well, most of the time—but I still love him. I can’t… I can’t…”
“You’ll be able to take all the time you need.”
“Time? I don’t have time.” She checked her watch, a utilitarian digital with a chewed strap courtesy of one of the yearlings. “It’s six o’clock. The horses…”
“We can take care of the horses.” Alaric gave me a slightly worried glance. “Right?”
“Right,” I said. “And I can bring you some personal items if you need to stay here. Or I could swap with Stéphane later if he needs to go back to the farm?”
“Best that Stéphane sticks around too,” Alaric said. “And I should go before someone decides to ask me a medical question I can’t answer.”
Stéphane nodded his agreement. “I’ll take care of Harriet.”
“Coffee first?” Alaric suggested.
“I think that’s a good idea.”
I knew my way around the kitchen at Lone Oak Farm now, so I put the drip machine on to brew. Sunday meant that Rusty would be working but Rodrigo had the day off. Rusty didn’t ride, and he wasn’t as knowledgeable as Rodrigo, but I could ask