The Bad Daughter(112)

“Of course you do,” Robin said. “You two deserve each other.”

The sheriff took Cassidy’s elbow, pushed her toward the front door.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Cassidy said, spinning back around. “Tell me, big shot L.A. therapist, do you really think any jury in the country is going to believe a twelve-year-old girl shot her own mother for no good reason? When I get through testifying, there won’t be a dry eye in the place.”

A slow smile played around the corners of Robin’s lips as she recalled Cassidy’s parting words to Dylan Campbell. “Give it your best shot,” she said.





CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR


Greg Davis succumbed to his wounds just after midnight.

Robin stood beside her father’s hospital bed the following morning, staring down at his once handsome face, but the man she’d both loved and loathed was no longer present. In his place was a waxen shell, slack-jawed and devoid of humanity.

“Well, well,” Alec said from somewhere beside her. As if that said it all. And maybe it did.

Robin glanced at her brother, trying not to wince at how thin he’d become during his brief stint behind bars. He and Landon had been released first thing in the morning, and the sheriff had personally driven them from the jail to the hospital. Landon had nodded silently, tears filling his eyes, when told of Cassidy’s involvement. Now he stood beside Blake in a corner of the room, staring at the floor and rocking gently back and forth.

“You know,” Alec said, “I must have wished the man dead a hundred times over the years.”

“And now?” Robin asked.

“And now?” Alec repeated. “I expected to stare down at his dead body and tell him I hoped he’d rot in hell. But I can’t. I thought I’d say that he got what he deserved. But I can’t do that either. Nobody deserves this. Not even him. I get no satisfaction seeing him like this. There’s no relief, no closure. The sad truth is, I feel nothing. Nothing at all.”

Robin touched her brother’s arm while looking at her father’s face. “I’m afraid you weren’t a very nice man, Daddy,” she said. “You were selfish and self-absorbed. It was always your way or no way. You did a lot of damage. You hurt a lot of people. Especially the people you were supposed to love, the people who tried desperately to love you. I’m sorry you weren’t a better father. I’m sorry you weren’t a better man. Not just for our sake. But for yours.”

“I’ll second that,” said Melanie.

“So what happens now?” Alec asked.

“Apparently there has to be an autopsy,” Robin said, “even though we know what killed him.”

“It’s the law,” Blake explained. “They need an official cause of death for when the case goes to trial.”

“A twelve-year-old girl on trial for murder.” Alec shook his head in disbelief.

“Sheriff Prescott said they’re going to do their best to have Cassidy tried as an adult,” Robin said.

“To think I actually liked the kid,” Alec said.

“Is there any chance she could get off?” Melanie asked.

“It’s possible,” Blake acknowledged. “All Cassidy needs is one sympathetic juror who buys her story.”

God help us.

“So I guess the answer to ‘What happens now?’?” Melanie said, referring to Alec’s earlier question, “is ‘Who the hell knows?’ We’ll have to talk to Dad’s lawyer, I suppose, sort out the will, figure out what to do with the business. Stuff like that.” She looked at Robin. “I guess you’ll be taking off after you get those bandages changed.”

“You’re leaving?” Alec asked.

“Well, Blake has to get back to L.A.,” Robin said, her eyes on Melanie. “But I thought I’d stick around for another week, if that’s all right.”

In response, Landon shot forward, throwing his arms around Robin and hugging her so tightly she could barely breathe.

It’s okay, she thought, returning his embrace. I’ll breathe later.

“I guess I can hang around for a few more days, too,” Alec said. “Maybe Landon and I could go horseback riding later this afternoon. I think we could use some of those wide-open spaces. What do you think, big guy?”

Landon pulled slowly out of Robin’s arms. But even though his gaze was steadfastly on the floor, Robin could tell he was smiling.

“We should probably get out of here,” Melanie said. “Let the nurses do their thing.” She looked at Robin. “Unless you have anything else you want to say to our father.”

Robin shook her head. She’d said it all.



* * *



—

It was late afternoon and she was alone in the house.

Dr. Arla Simpson had changed her bandages and pronounced the wound healing nicely. Blake had taken off for L.A., promising to call as soon as he arrived. Melanie had left thirty minutes ago to pick up Landon and Alec at Donny Warren’s ranch. Now Robin found herself wandering restlessly from room to room, emptying the dishwasher, setting the dining room table for dinner, lying down on the living room sofa, getting up, going upstairs, lying down on her bed, sitting up, going to the window, looking toward her father’s house, a thousand disparate thoughts swirling through her head.