River’s End

hospitals. Lucas Manning, bless him, is helping me with that. The letters are just starting to come in, and though Lou, Julie’s agent, is going to help handle them, I think we’re going to be snowed under in another week or two.”
    “Jamie—”
    “We already have a mountain of condolences from people in the business, people she knew or worked with. And the phone calls—”
    “Jamie,” Val said more firmly. “We have to talk about what happens next.”
    “This is what happens next for me.”
    “Sit down.” When the phone rang, Val shook her head. “Let it go, Jamie, and sit down.”
    “All right. All right.” Giving in, Jamie sat, let her head fall back.
    “There’s going to be a trial,” Val began, and this had Jamie sitting up again.
    “There’s no point in thinking about that now.”
    “It has to be thought of. Sam’s fancy new lawyer’s already on TV, prancing and posing. Some people are hot to say he couldn’t have done it. He’s a hero, a victim, a figure of tragedy. More will say it before it’s over.”
    “You shouldn’t listen.”
    “No, and I don’t intend to anymore.” Val’s voice went fierce. “I don’t intend to take any chances that Livvy will hear any of it, will be exposed to any of it or be used as she was the other day when she got outside. I want to take her home, Jamie. I want to take her back to Washington as soon as possible.”
    “Take her home?” For a moment, Jamie’s mind went completely blank. “But this is her home.”
    “I know you love her. We all do.” Val set her glass aside to take her daughter’s hand. “Listen to me, Jamie. That little girl can’t stay here, closed up in this house like a prisoner. She can’t even go outside. We can’t risk her going to her window without knowing some photographer will zoom in and snap her picture. She can’t live like that. None of us can.”
    “It’ll pass.”
    “When? How? Maybe, maybe it would have eased up a little, but not now that there’s going to be a trial. She won’t be able, to start preschool in the fall, or play with her friends without bodyguards, without having people look at her, stare, point, whisper. And some won’t bother to whisper. I don’t want her to face that. I don’t think you do either.”
    “Oh God, Mom.” Torn to bits again, Jamie rose. “I want to raise her. David and I talked about it.”
    “How can you do that here, honey? With all the memories, all the publicity, all the risks. She needs to be protected from that but not locked in a house, however lovely, in the center of it all. Are you and David willing to give up your home, your work, your lifestyle, to take her away, to devote your time to her? Your father and I can give her a safe place. We can cut her off from the press.” She took a deep breath. “And I intend to see a lawyer myself, right away, to start custody proceedings. I won’t have that man getting near her, ever again. It’s what’s right for her, Jamie. It’s what Julie would want for her.”
    What about me? Jamie wanted to scream it. What about what I need, what I want?
    She was the one who soothed Livvy’s nightmares, who comforted and rocked and sat with her in the long dark hours. “Have you talked to Dad about this?” Her voice was dull now, her face turned away.
    “We discussed it this morning. He agrees with me. Jamie, it’s what’s best. You and David could come, spend as much time as you like. She’ll always be yours, too, but not here, Jamie. Not here.”
    Frank pushed away from his desk, surprised when he saw Jamie Melbourne. She took off her dark glasses as she crossed the squad room, then passed them restlessly from hand to hand.
    “Detective Brady, I’d like to speak with you if you have a moment.”
    “Of course. We’ll go in the coffee room.” He tried a smile. “But I’m not recommending the coffee.”
    “No, I’m trying to stay away from it just now.”
    “Do you want to speak with Detective Harmon?”
    “It’s not necessary to pull both of you away from your work.” She moved into the cramped little room. “I came on impulse. Not an easy feat,” she added as she walked to the stingy window. At least it was a window, she thought. At least she could look outside. “There are still reporters. Not as many, but a number of them camped out. I think I ran over that snippy one from Channel Four.”
    “Never liked him anyway.”
    She leaned her hands on the windowsill and laughed. Then couldn’t stop.