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Other than the half hour checks that weren’t necessary because there was a monitor in Kara’s room with receivers in the family room and both of the other bedrooms, Amy’s recounting of events was exactly as had been designated by the schedule on the refrigerator.
“Thanks, Amy,” she said. “I’ve already alerted security that you need a ride back to your bungalow. Tammy’s waiting outside for you.”
Tammy Swenson was one of the Stand’s full-time, police-trained security personnel. There were four full-time officers on staff and another three, two of whom were male, worked part-time to relieve them. They mostly watched over the main house and the public buildings outside the locked campus, but at night, there was always one patrolling the private grounds.
She slid a twenty down into Amy’s knitting bag. Amy had been a housewife her entire life. One who’d been beaten, on and off, for forty years because she’d had no means to leave the man who claimed to love her but forgot about those feelings any time he drank.
At sixty, with all of her kids out on their own, she couldn’t take it anymore. But so far, the bastard had managed to tie up all their assets in court. And since Amy had no training, and was near retirement age, she wasn’t having a lot of luck finding any kind of work to tide her over.
And residents who did volunteer work were not allowed to get paid. Which meant that Lynn couldn’t pay her for watching Kara.
“You already paid me for the dress I knitted your little one,” Amy said.
“No, your work was exquisite and worth far more than you charged me.”
Amy shook her head.
“Tammy’s waiting,” Lynn reminded the older woman, and saw her out the door.
She pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her scrubs, peeked in on Kara and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.
Grant had called. She’d had her phone on vibrate all evening, but she always checked her calls in case there was an emergency with Kara. He’d left a voice mail.
She listened to it as she undressed.
He’d asked her to call. No matter how late she got in.
His voice didn’t have that sexy undertone she’d grown to crave. But if it had been an emergency surely he’d have said so.
Pulling on her robe, she texted him first. And wasn’t even in the shower yet when her phone signaled a return text. Followed by a second vibration indicating his incoming call.
“You’re up late,” she said, picking up the call.
“I’ve been asleep for three hours. I just heard your text.” His voice sounded groggy. And…the sexy tone was back. She heard it all the way to her toes.
“You said to call no matter how late.”
“I wanted to speak with you before tomorrow.” He sounded sleepy, but not the least bit put out to be talking on the phone in the middle of the night.
“It’s already tomorrow.”
“Are you just getting in?”
“Yeah. We had an emergency tonight.”
Seeing herself in the mirror—the tired eyes, no makeup, hair pulled back—she turned away from it.
“I called you just after Kara’s bedtime.”
“I left here at six-thirty.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” She kept her voice low, just in case, although Kara slept through almost everything, and slid down to the floor, her back to the wall.
“Is everything okay?”
“I think it will be, physically, at least. In the meantime, I have a patient in the bungalow next door.”
“How old is she?”
“Thirty-four.”
“Was it her husband?”
“Yeah.”
“How long were they married?”
“A couple of years.”
“She got out early.”
“Yeah, but it was still almost too late.” Some abusers were stronger than others.
“Were there any kids?”
“Two from a previous marriage. She was widowed. The kids are with their paternal grandparents until tomorrow after school.”
“Will they stay there, then?”
“Possibly. So they can remain in school. Or they could come here if she decides to leave her husband and become a resident. It will be partially up to the woman. She wasn’t in any state tonight to make those kinds of decisions.”
