Nick didn’t argue, but he figured he was a help, not a hindrance, and someone’s ego was taking a hit at a time when egos over authority shouldn’t matter. With a reassuring smile for Kristen, Nick left the room at a snail’s pace and went into the hall.
Where he noticed the blood on the floor.
He shoved the door open. “Kristen, are you bleeding?”
She didn’t meet his eyes this time. “Am I?” She glanced down, and her face whitened. “My feet. I knew they hurt, but—”
“Why didn’t you tell the paramedics?” Callahan asked before Nick got the question out.
“This interview is far more important.” If she was trying to smile, she failed. Her lips twisted, but more in a grimace of pain.
“Enough questions,” Nick declared. “She needs to go to the hospital and have her feet seen to.”
“My feet can wait. I need to answer all the questions I can to help find my mother.” Her hands gripped the edge of the table, the short, polished nails digging into the fake wood, the knuckles white. “Even if it’s my fault she was taken, it won’t be my fault she isn’t found.”
“How many times do we have to tell you it’s not your fault, Kristen?” Callahan sounded impatient. “From what you’ve said and what Her Honor texted, we know that you took every precautionary action you could under the circumstances.”
“But I should never have been under the circumstances.” This time, she focused those blue eyes on Callahan.
He didn’t so much as blink at their impact.
“May I take her to get her feet seen to, sir?” Nick asked.
“Please do. And then drive her home and stay with her. Where is Her Honor’s husband?”
“My father is in Switzerland,” Kristen said.
“Business?” Nick asked, figuring on Zurich and Swiss bank accounts and all those things far above his touch or interest.
She shook her head. “Mountain climbing or something like that.”
“Your father’s on vacation without your mother?” Nick couldn’t keep the astonishment from his tone.
He couldn’t imagine his parents going on more than a weekend retreat without each other.
“Is that normal?”
“Abnormal would be if he did take a vacation with her.” Her voice was flat as she looked at the table. “Has anyone called him?”
“We left a voice mail,” Callahan said. “It’s the middle of the night there, though.”
Kristen nodded, then tried to stand. With a little cry, she fell back into her chair.
Callahan surged to his feet. “We’ll call an ambulance. I’m so sorry we didn’t realize sooner you were injured.”
But they should have realized it. Nick should have. Someone, the paramedics if no one else, should have noticed she wore no shoes. His mother would have his hide for not being more careful with a lady who’d been in an accident and then run for her life down the side of the expressway.
“Please don’t fuss over me.’” Her face was as white as the institutional walls around them. “I can walk.”
“I don’t think so.” Nick glanced from his boss to Kristen. “With your permission, I’ll carry you.”
“You can’t do that, Sandoval,” Callahan protested.
“It’s better than wasting resources others may need instead.” Kristen offered the older man a tight smile, though her cheeks had flushed to the color of the strawberry Jell-O with whipped topping blended into it Nick’s aunt Maggie insisted on bringing to every family gathering. “Just don’t carry me over your shoulder. That’s how that man...how he carried...me.”
She pressed her hand to her mouth. For a moment, Nick feared she would be sick. Then he saw the tears welling in her eyes and realized she was holding back a sob.
If she were one of his sisters, he would pick her up and let her cry on his shoulder. She was, however, the daughter of a judge and the main witness to a serious crime perpetrated against that judge. He must maintain a professional demeanor which, sadly, included no comforting the victim.
Maybe he could take her home and let his mom do that.
Pretending he didn’t see the tears, he picked her up from the chair, glad he worked out regularly. She was a big girl, not overweight, just tall and not model thin. She was just right in her proportions, as far as he was concerned.
“Is it all right if I put my arm around your neck?” she asked barely above a whisper.
He’d be flirting inappropriately if he gave the answer that sprang to mind—A lady as pretty as you doesn’t need permission to put her arm around me—so he merely nodded and carried her outside to his car.
The rain had stopped. With rush hour passed, the streets were emptier, the office buildings and most of the restaurants except those around the theaters having closed for the night. Nothing was quiet, though. Buses still roared up the streets and the “L” trains rattled overhead. The sharp tang of wet pavement filled the air along with exhaust and cooking odors.
Nick was suddenly filled with a longing for the clean sweetness of rain-washed grass and dirt, his mother’s roses fragrant from their bath, and even the earthy notes of wet dog. Wanting these scents in his nostrils meant he wanted to be home or visiting his parents, anywhere but facing the sort of trouble this night was still bound to bring, especially not an urgent care or hospital emergency room facility and the tedium of waiting in either.
He didn’t realize he sighed until Kristen removed her arm from around his neck and spoke. “I’m sure I can walk now.”
“No way. It’s just a few more feet to my car.”
As in a half block to the parking garage, but he could manage, even if she was half again as heavy as his fiancée. His deceased fiancée. She’d been small-boned and fragile in too many ways, beyond his ability to save.
“I should have let your boss call an ambulance,” Kristen said. “You don’t need to go to all this trouble for me.”
“I have orders to stay with you no matter what.” Nick entered the parking garage and his Mustang was not far from the door.
The advantage of returning to work after most people had gone home.
“I have to set you down for a minute. Try to stand on your heels. I don’t want oil or anything in those cuts.” He released her from his hold.
“I think it’s too late to worry about that now.” Her tone was sharp. He didn’t blame her. She was their only witness, their only hope at the moment of finding the judge, and they weren’t taking care of her.
Despite her prickly response, she balanced on her heels, one hand resting on the black vinyl top of his convertible, her gaze focused on the street.
Nick unlocked the car and opened her door. “Here you go.”
She didn’t move except to fix her gaze on him. “Why did they take her?”
“If we figure that out, it will help us find her.”
“Will there be a ransom?”
“That will help.” Nick stepped away from the car, silently urging her to get in.
She did at last, and he closed the door. Once he was around the vehicle and seated beside her, she turned to him.
“I should have told someone about the SUV following me. That’s