Therefore, she took a deep, settling breath and forced a smile for the boy’s sake. “Tell you what, Danny. I’m about to go get myself an ice cream bar. Would you like me to bring you one?”
His eyes never left the empty doorway and she could tell he was visualizing his father there so she rose and blocked his view. His medical records had already told her his injuries were minor and that he was ambulatory, so she held out her hand.
“How about coming with me to get the ice creams? I’ll help you put on a robe and slippers if you want.”
“Okay…”
The reply was softly spoken yet clearly a positive sign. Since Dr. Weiss was still out to lunch, he wouldn’t be checking on Danny for a while longer and, truth to tell, she didn’t see why the boy had been admitted in the first place—unless Weiss had finally seen the light and started to believe his so-called buddy had been abusing his son, as Alice had inferred. There was always that hope.
With Danny’s hand grasping hers and his trust growing, she led him quietly out of the room and down the hallway to the vending-machine niche. A little ice cream wouldn’t hurt him and sharing a treat would help strengthen their emotional bond.
This was the first step toward learning the truth from a child who was too frightened of further abuse to speak honestly. It was hard to listen without comment when children finally opened up to her, but it was also a blessing to be there for them.
She was their literal guide to health and well-being. It was her recommendations to a judge that could save innocent lives and set these kinds of youngsters on the path to normalcy. Any personal angst, any depth of emotional suffering, was worth it to Samantha if the end result was a happy little boy or girl.
One who was no longer afraid.
* * *
The ice cream adventure completed, she had escorted Danny back to bed and left him there after showing him how to find the cartoon channel on the television.
John was entering through the E.R. door when she returned to her regular post. Judging by his determined expression, he was on a mission.
Sam assumed he had come to see her. She started to smile in greeting, then noticed how morose he seemed. “Hi. What’s up? You look terrible.”
“I feel terrible,” he said, taking her arm and guiding her off to the side of the room. “It’s about your car.”
“I thought you might have come to tell me you were done with it. Guess not, huh?”
“Oh, we’re done with it, all right. Only not for the reasons I wish.”
Studying his face and scowling, Sam was struck by how much he seemed to be struggling. Surely he wasn’t still blaming himself for not watching her house more closely.
“Well, are you going to tell me or make me drag it out of you? What’s wrong?”
“Somebody set your car on fire while it was parked behind the station. It’s a total loss.”
“What? How can that be?”
“Let’s sit down and talk, Sam.”
“I don’t need to sit anywhere. Just spit it out. What’s going on? What happened?”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “We know the car was searched again, for starters. Apparently, whoever was responsible decided to burn it to remove any possible traces of their identity.”
“In broad daylight? In downtown Serenity? Surely somebody saw something.”
“Not as far as we can tell. We’ve canvassed the nearby businesses. Nobody noticed anything odd—until we saw the smoke.”
“You called the fire department?”
John grimaced. “Of course. By the time they arrived there was no saving the car. I spoke to one of the firefighters who knows you. Mitch Andrews?”
“Right. He and Jill are adopting the Pearson orphans. I told you about helping them when we were talking about my CASA cases. Which reminds me…”
John interrupted. “Yeah, that’s what Mitch said, too. He told me it was obvious there was accelerant poured into the car. Once it was lit, nothing could have put it out. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? I’m devastated. Now what will I do for wheels?”
“What about the old barge Elvina used to drive? I thought I noticed it parked in your barn.”
“That thing hasn’t been started in years. I imagine the mice have eaten all the wiring.”
“I’ll check it for you tonight.”
“Tonight?” She could tell he was highly stressed. His posture was stiff and his demeanor uneasy. “You look as if you’re cooking up some kind of devious plan and you’re afraid I won’t like it.”