and relocate to Houston. Her pregnancy had been a difficult one and she’d gone through it alone. But good can come from bad things and Daniel was a constant source of joy to her. And now, with Carter dead, the McMolleres wanted their only grandson.
They weren’t going to take her son away from her.
“Mommy, Mommy! Come quick.” Danny dashed in from the balcony and grabbed her hand. He began tugging her toward the French doors. “That policeman just killed somebody! Come and see!”
“Danny, don’t be ridiculous!” With only a glance at him, she pulled away and headed for her luggage. That’s what happened when kids were allowed to watch unlimited violence on TV. Their imaginations went wild.
“Mommy, please, this is not radickalous.” He stood before her looking distressed. “Those men were fighting! Honest, they were.”
“What men?” She bent to unzip her cosmetics bag.
“Those men outside,” Danny repeated impatiently. “The policeman had a gun. He shot somebody. I saw it.” He was nodding his head furiously, his eyes round as marbles. “I did, Mommy.”
“Policemen don’t shoot people in a hotel courtyard, Danny.” She found shampoo and body gel and tossed them on the bed. Maybe a cool shower would banish her headache and refresh her. Even though she was meeting the McMolleres under duress, she didn’t want to look frazzled.
Danny caught her hand and tugged on it. “Mommy, please come and look. That man fell on the ground, honest. I bet he’s hurt really bad. I bet he’s bleeding!”
“Not now, Danny. Please.” She drew her hand away, thinking her first task when she got home would be a phone call to Ryan’s parents. Somehow, they would have to keep the children away from the violent TV programs.
“You gotta look, Mommy. What if he comes up here and shoots us, too?”
She chuckled in spite of herself. “Come on, honey. Nobody’s going to shoot anybody.”
“But he did!” Danny insisted in exasperation.
She ruffled his dark hair. “And you saw it?”
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Danny, we’re on the third floor.”
“But I could see ‘em good from where I was standin’. The one who got shot had a T-shirt like mine—you know—my Olympics T-shirt. And he had a ponytail.”
“A ponytail?” Claire repeated.
“Yes, like Jason,” Danny replied, referring to the college student who serviced the pool at their condo.
Claire hesitated. Danny seemed so certain. “And where were these people?”
“Way over by the bushes.” He pointed as if she could see from inside the room. “I had to lean real far out.”
She frowned at him. “Not on the balcony railing, I hope.”
“It’s okay, Mommy,” he said confidently. “It has these places you can put your feet. Don’t worry, I was careful.”
Claire marched over to the balcony to see for herself. Her heart dropped. The ornate wrought-iron did indeed have places a small foot could wedge into. Standing there, Danny was raised beyond a safe level. He could have plunged three floors!
She turned and pulled him into her arms. “Danny, you mustn’t ever do such a thing again! The railing is old. It isn’t meant to be climbed on. What if you’d fallen?”
He looked crestfallen. “I wasn’t gonna fall, Mommy,” he muttered. “I was just lookin’ at those men. They were actin’ really bad, just like on TV. They were hollerin’ and all!”
She shook her head helplessly. Obviously she was not going to convince Danny that he’d been imagining things. “You think you saw a policeman shoot somebody?”
He nodded with new life. “I did! Honest!” He caught her hand again and began tugging her along. “Right over there on the path.”
Claire let him lead her to the balcony. She could see a large rubber plant flourishing in the lee between the main wing of the hotel and the covered walkway leading to the pool. It was almost directly beneath their room. To one side was a space obviously designated for housekeeping. The lush vegetation probably obscured the flagstone pathway from ground level, but the view was good from this spot three floors above.
There was nothing there.
“I don’t see anything, honey.”
Beside her, Danny put his foot into the wrought-iron toeholds, ready to climb. “Danny!” She grabbed him and set him firmly back on the floor. “What did I just say?”
“I was gonna show you where.”
“There’s nothing there, Danny. Even if the men were standing where you say they were, I don’t think a gunshot would go unnoticed.”
“Maybe nobody heard it but me.”
She put a hand on his shoulder. “How could that be, honey? Guns make a big noise when they’re fired.”
He stared at his feet. “You think I made it up.”
“Well…” With a finger beneath his chin, she tilted his small face up.
“I betcha Ryan would believe me if I told him.”
She sighed. “I believe you think you saw something.” She paused a minute. “What made you say he was a policeman? Was he in uniform?”
“No, but I saw a badge. On his belt. We had some policemen visit us at school and they said not all cops have a uniform, but all cops have a badge.”
To humor him, she asked, “Where did the gun come from if he wasn’t in uniform?”
His face screwed up in thought. “I don’t know. I just saw it when he held it in his hand.”
“What did the other man do?”
“He just fell over.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know. That’s when I ran inside to tell you.”
She studied him intently for a minute. “Okay, champ. Here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to call the desk and ask about this. If something like that actually happened, they would know about it. Okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.” He drew a big breath and went over to the bedside table, planting himself firmly by the phone. Claire sighed again. No getting around it, she was going to have to call.
Two minutes later she hung up feeling chastened. Her questions had been greeted with patient good humor by the desk clerk. A shooting? At the White Hotel? Ha-ha. By LaRue’s finest? No, ma’am, hardly. Somebody was surely having a joke at her expense, she was told. This was just lovely, she decided, kicking off her shoes. For the rest of her stay at the precious White, she would be known as that paranoid woman in three-twelve. Grumbling, she headed into the bathroom. That shower seemed more appealing with each passing minute.
“WHAT CAN WE DO NOW, Mommy?” Danny asked the instant she reappeared. She was somewhat refreshed, but even a cool shower didn’t wash away the Louisiana humidity. Nor did it do much for her headache.
“We can both get dressed, Danny,” she told him, glancing at the clock. “We’ve got to be ready to leave in a little while.”
“If I hurry, can we go down to the place where I saw the guy fall and see if there’s blood?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, absolutely not.”
“Aw, Mommy…”
“Tell you what,” she said. “We have about two hours before it’s time to meet those people for our visit. I saw a Star-Mart