Free Daddy's Gone a Hunting by Mary Higgins Clark Page B

Peggy and Skippy and him. He just shrugged. He almost never looked at the picture anymore, so what was the difference? He could hardly remember his family. If only he could forget Joey, too.

25

    T errified to miss a call from Dr. Patel, Hannah had slept with her cell phone on at its highest volume. Her exhaustion was so great that she slept deeply. When she woke at seven on Friday morning she had called the hospital. The nurse in intensive care had told her that Kate had had a quiet night.
    “Did she try to say anything?” Hannah asked.
    “No. The sedation is very strong.”
    “But late yesterday afternoon she did say something to my father.” Oh God, if she ever says anything about setting the fire and they hear her, Hannah agonized. What will happen?
    “I would doubt that she said anything coherent, Ms. Connelly.” The nurse tried to be reassuring. “There is no change in her condition, which, I’m sure the doctor has explained, is a good sign.”
    “Yes, yes. Thank you. I’ll be over soon.”
    Hannah hung up the phone and for a long moment lay back on the pillow. What day is it? she asked herself, then began to sort out the events of the past day and a half. Wednesday had been the big day at work, when they told her she would have her own line. I didn’t call Kate, she remembered, because she was meeting Dad and his latest girlfriend, Sandra. Jessie and I went out for dinner. I came home, watched TV, and went to bed. Then I got the call fromJack at about five yesterday morning. That was Thursday? Was it really only yesterday?
    She tried to put the events of Thursday in order. The rush to the hospital. Waiting for Dad to show up. Staying at the hospital until Kate was out of surgery, then going to work. That was silly, she told herself now. What did I think I was going to accomplish? Going back to the hospital and thankfully finding Jessie there. Then Dad and Sandra showing up there in the late afternoon, and Kate appearing to say something to Dad. Going home after that and having to deal with the fire marshals again. After they left, Jessie had fixed something for us to eat and then they had gone back to see Kate.
    Dad went in ahead of me to see Kate in the afternoon, she remembered. When I got near the bed, Dad was bent over Kate, and he was clearly frightened by what she had said to him.
    Does she know Gus is dead? Did she try to apologize to him for setting the fire?
    I won’t, I can’t believe that.
    She pressed the television remote, then was sorry she did. The lead news was the fire. “The question is why was Kate Connelly, the owner’s daughter, in the complex at that hour with Gus Schmidt, an ex-employee who was fired five years ago?” the anchor was asking.
    It was the first time Hannah had seen a picture of the ruined complex. How did Kate ever make it out alive? she asked herself. Dear God, how did she ever make it out alive?
    She turned off the television, swung her legs to the floor, then realized she was wearing a nightshirt that Kate had given her. “ Ma petite soeur, on you it should fit perfect,” she had said. “It’s too short for me.”
    From the minute she was in her first French class, Kate always called me that, Hannah thought. My little sister. She’s always looked out for me. Now I’ve got to look out for her.
    Jessie is right. Those fire marshals are going to try to hang this on Kate. Well, I won’t let them.
    A long hot shower made her feel better. She plugged in her new coffeemaker, which served up one cup at a time; it was another thoughtful gift from Kate. She decided to put on a sweater and slacks and change later to go to the funeral home where Gus was to be laid out.
    Hannah dreaded the prospect of seeing Lottie. What can I possibly say to her that can help lessen her grief? she wondered. “I’m sorry the media is calling Gus a disgruntled former employee with a grudge against the company and a possible conspirator?” No matter what I say, Lottie is going to tell