The Bad Daughter(65)

Melanie had called Jeff McAllister first thing in the morning, and he’d agreed to see them at one o’clock that afternoon. Blake had a conference call scheduled for two o’clock and hadn’t been able to join them.

“You’ll be fine,” Blake told Robin as they were leaving. “Just remember to breathe.”

Not so easy, she thought now, her eyes traveling to six black-and-white photographs of rodeo scenes hanging on the opposite wall. She took four deep breaths, one immediately following the other.

“Are you going to faint again?” Melanie asked.

“No. Sorry.” Sorry for breathing.

“They’re here,” she heard the receptionist whisper into her phone, not bothering with names.

Seconds later, Jeff McAllister was standing in front of them, his right arm outstretched to shake their hands. He had a grip of steel, as if to make up for his lack of height, but Robin thought he had a nice face. It was round and reassuring. She estimated his age as mid-sixties. He still had all his hair.

“Very nice to meet you,” he said. “We were all so shocked to hear about the shootings. How is your father doing?”

“Not great,” Melanie said. “It appears my brother is in need of legal counsel.”

The receptionist smiled shyly at Alec.

Melanie shot the young woman a look that said, You’ve got to be kidding.

The receptionist immediately began moving papers around on her desk, as if she’d just remembered something important.

“This way, please.” McAllister led them toward the inner offices. His was the last of three and occupied the corner.

“This is as far as you go,” Alec told his sisters when they reached McAllister’s door.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Melanie said, this time out loud. She was still bristling minutes later, as she and Robin sat fidgeting on the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the reception area.

“We could go for a coffee,” Robin suggested.

“Not thirsty.”

“This may take a while.”

“You go, if you want.”

“No. I…”

Melanie’s cell phone rang. She reached inside her purse and brought it to her ear. “Hello?” Her face immediately softened, and she turned away, lowering her chin. “Hi. Yeah, I’m okay. It’s been a little rough.” She stood up, took several steps away from Robin. “Uh-huh. Yeah. That would be great. Okay. Sure. I really appreciate it. Okay. See you later.” She returned to her seat, dropping her phone into her purse and leaning her head back against the wall.

“Who was that?” Robin asked.

“No one.”

“Obviously it was someone.”

“It was just a friend.”

“What friend?” To Robin’s knowledge, her sister didn’t have any friends. It was one of the few things they had in common.

“Just someone I know. What’s the big deal?”

“It’s not a big deal. I’m just curious.”

“There’s nothing to be curious about.”

“Was it a man?” Robin pressed, mindful of the conversation she’d had with Alec the previous night. “Are you seeing someone?”

“Seriously?” Melanie asked. “That’s what you’re concerned about? With everything else that’s going on, you’re asking me if I’m seeing anyone?”

“Are you?” Robin said.

Melanie rolled her eyes toward the recessed ceiling. “No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why is it ridiculous? You’re still young and attractive.”

“And my son’s still autistic.”

“Which doesn’t mean you can’t have a social life. Come on. There must have been some men over the years.”

“What are you asking me? If I’ve had lovers?”

“Have you?”

Melanie slumped down in her seat, stretching her long legs out in front of her, her denim skirt riding up on her thighs.

“Dad in a dress,” Robin heard her brother say.

“There’ve been a few,” Melanie surprised her by admitting.

“Really? Who?”

“Seriously?” Melanie said again.

“Anybody I know?”

There was such a long pause that Robin assumed Melanie either hadn’t heard her or was deliberately ignoring the question. “You remember Steve Clark?” she asked just as Robin had given up hope of a response and was reconsidering going out for that cup of coffee.

“Steve Clark?” Robin flipped the name over on her tongue. “You mean that fat kid with the bad complexion who used to follow you around in high school?”

“He lost weight and his skin cleared up. He actually looks pretty good now.”

“You’re sleeping with him?”

“Not anymore, no. This was years ago. He married Pamela Haggar. You remember her?”

Robin shook her head.

“She was fat, too. Still is, actually. They have three kids, a boy and twin girls, all under the age of five.”

“Who else?” Robin asked. “You said that was years ago.”

“Oh, God. Let’s see.” Melanie sighed, although she was clearly warming to her subject. “Mark Best…Surely you remember him.”