Page 30 of Hudson
Blair gathered Meridith’s bag and sweater. Together she and Dr. Workman helped Meridith to her feet and guided her down the hallway and out to the parking lot. Blair got the passenger door open, helped her in and pulled the seatbelt across her, then ran around to the driver’s side.
She drove fast but steady, glancing over every few seconds. Meridith’s face had gone ghostly pale, sweat beading on her upper lip, fingers white-knuckled against her belly. Meridith let out a low groan and gripped the door handle.
“Almost there. Breathe, Meridith. Just breathe.”
Meridith nodded and focused on her breathing, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. “Damn, ithurts, Blair. When I see Phil I’m going to throat punch him.”
Blair laughed, the sound cutting right through the tension. “I’m sure it would make you feel better.”
“Tell me about your date. Take my mind off this hellish pain.”
Blair nodded and started talking, her voice a steady counterpoint to Meridith’s occasional gasps. By the time she finished, they had reached the hospital. She pulled straight up to the emergency doors, tires squealing slightly on the pavement, and ran around to Meridith’s side. The hospital doors whooshed open and several nurses in crisp blue scrubs came out, one of them pushing a wheelchair. Blair recognized Abbie McBride among them.
“Hi, Blair,” Abbie said, calm and professional.
“Abbie. Contractions are about seven minutes apart, each one lasting longer than the last. Husband is on his way, probably breaking every speed limit between here and the barn.”
Abbie leaned in to look at Meridith, her experienced eyes taking in the situation quickly. “Hi, Meridith. I’m Abbie McBride. We’re going to take good care of you until Dr. Anderson arrives. She’ll get you up to labor and delivery where it’s quieter and more comfortable. Is this your first?”
“Yes,” Meridith managed between gasps.
“We’ve got her from here, Blair. You can park and wait in registration. Someone will bring her husband to her once he arrives.”
“Alright.” Blair touched Meridith’s hand, feeling the clamminess beneath her fingers. “No need to come in tomorrow,” she said with a grin.
Meridith laughed despite the pain. “Thank God.”
“Call me when you can. If you need anything atall.” Blair squeezed her hand and watched them wheel her through the automatic doors, which closed with a soft whoosh behind them. Then she moved her car and went inside to wait for Phil.
****
Hud sank into the plush king-sized mattress and looked around the room. Gleaming mahogany furniture, crisp white linens, decent water pressure. Dave never put his men in fleabag motels and Hud had long since stopped being surprised by that.
He flipped open his laptop, the glow illuminating his face as he worked through the department’s encrypted database.
“Carla Whittingham,” he murmured, tracing her address on the screen. “I need to talk to you.”
His phone vibrated against the nightstand. Creed.
“You’re too lazy to walk fifteen feet?”
“Fuck you,” Creed’s gravelly voice replied, laughter underneath it. “I was going to ask if you wanted pizza and cold beer, but not now.”
“That does sound good.”
“Figured. I already found a place. They deliver.”
“Of course you did.”
“Once it gets here I might wander over.” Creed hung up.
Hud set the phone down, still chuckling, and went back to the screen.
Fifteen minutes later they were settled at the wooden table by the rain-spattered window, an open pizza box between them. Warm dough, bubbling mozzarella, pepperoni. Each man held a cold beer, condensation beading on the can. Outside, a light rain fell from gray clouds, softening the light in theroom.
“Are you going to call Mrs. Whittingham before we show up?” Creed asked, tilting his beer toward his lips.
“Nope. We’ll surprise her. That way she can’t skip town first.”
