The Bad Daughter(96)

“Leave Cassidy alone.”

“I was just—”

“Leave her alone.” His hands formed fists at his sides.

“It’s good news, Landon. I think she’d want to hear—”

“Leave her alone.” Even though his voice was barely above a whisper, it had the intensity of a shout.

Blake appeared in the doorway of their bedroom, looking from Robin to Landon and back again. “Is there a problem?”

“Landon doesn’t think I should wake Cassidy up.”

Landon took a menacing step forward.

“Okay,” Blake said. “Maybe Landon’s right. It’s late. Cassidy needs her rest. We can talk to her in the morning.”

“Why don’t we all try to get some sleep?” Robin agreed, crossing back to her room. “You, too, Landon,” she said when he didn’t move. “I promise I won’t try to talk to Cassidy again tonight.”

Landon hesitated, but then returned to his room and closed the door.

“That was creepy,” Robin said, climbing back into her bed.

Blake crawled in beside her. “Your sister’s right,” he said, folding her in his arms. “It’s time we got out of here.”



* * *



—

“You’re out of your minds,” Melanie pronounced at breakfast when Robin informed her of their decision.

“I would have thought you’d be ecstatic.” Robin finished the last of her coffee and smiled across the table at Blake. “Assuming Dad’s condition remains unchanged and Cassidy agrees, we’ll all be out of your hair first thing Sunday morning.”

“What’ll you tell the sheriff?”

“The truth. That we’re taking Cassidy back to L.A. and that if he needs to talk to her, he knows where to find us.”

“And Alec?”

“I’ll come back as often as possible, do whatever I can to help him.”

“Like what?”

I wish I knew, Robin thought. “It’s kind of late,” she said, checking her watch. “Do you think Cassidy’s all right?”

“The kid survived a bullet,” Melanie said. “A few harsh words won’t kill her.”

Robin pushed herself away from the table. “I should check.”

“Suit yourself.”

Robin headed up the stairs, stopping at the top of the landing to listen for the sound of Landon rocking. But there was nothing. Which meant he was probably standing at the window, she decided, tiptoeing toward Cassidy’s room. She didn’t want a repeat of last night’s confrontation.

“Cassidy,” she said, knocking gently on the door. “Cassidy, it’s Robin. I have some news. Cassidy?” She knocked louder. “Wake up, honey. I have something to tell you.”

She twisted the handle. The door opened.

Even before Robin stepped into the room, she knew it was empty. She crossed to the window and pulled open the drapes, flooding the room with sunshine. The sun shone a spotlight on Cassidy’s empty, unmade bed. “Oh, God. Where are you?”

Robin hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. “She’s gone.”

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Melanie asked.

“I mean, she’s gone.”

“So she went out. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Cassidy was very upset last night. She thinks that nobody wants her.”

“Maybe Landon knows where she is,” Melanie suggested.

Robin turned and ran back up the steps, Blake right behind her. “Landon!” She banged loudly on his door. “Landon, I need to speak to you.” She pushed his door open.

He wasn’t there.

“Shit.”

“Take it easy,” Melanie said when they returned to the kitchen. “They’re obviously together, and if Landon’s with her, she’ll be fine.”

Robin thought of last night’s confrontation. “Maybe we should call the sheriff.”

“A little early to be calling in the troops, don’t you think?”

The doorbell rang, followed by loud knocking.

“There. See,” Melanie said. “The prodigal daughter returns.”

Robin marched to the front door and opened it.

The sheriff was standing on the other side.

“Oh, God. Cassidy…”

Sheriff Prescott looked confused, his eyebrows knitting together above the bridge of his nose. “Is there a problem?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Is your sister home?”

“My sister?” Robin looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “Melanie,” she called. “Sheriff Prescott’s here.” She turned back to the sheriff, noticing for the first time that he hadn’t come alone, that there were two other patrol cars parked behind his in the driveway.

“Has something happened?” Blake asked, joining her at the door.

“I have a search warrant,” the sheriff said, holding it in his right hand.

“A search warrant?” Robin repeated. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a warrant giving us permission to search the house.” He signaled to the waiting deputies.