Out on the gallery, Dodge had inspected the holes in the wall, left by the bullets that Nyland or someone from the S.O. had removed. Then Dodge had had Berry show him exactly where Starks had landed after his fall down the stairs and the position from which he'd been wildly firing the pistol.
He'd laid down on his back on the floor and acted it out while she'd crouched behind the railing on the gallery above as she'd done the night before. Caroline had stood by, watching all this, hugging her elbows and chafing her upper arms.
"I can't believe how close you came to being killed," she'd said, tears in her voice.
Dodge had been equally shaken by the thought of how narrowly Berry had escaped a bullet. If she hadn't, Caroline's call to him last night would have been altogether different. Or maybe she wouldn't have bothered to notify him. It didn't bear thinking about.
After talking through it, Berry had told them she was exhausted and asked if they could postpone their conversation about her and Lofland until after she'd rested. "It's the elephant in the room. I know it must be explained, but can it keep until I've had a nap?"
He and Caroline had watched as she wearily climbed the stairs. When she reached the gallery, she'd gone into the guest room, Dodge supposed because being in her bedroom made the horrible memories too vivid for comfort.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Caroline had turned to him, her posture defensive. "What Amanda Lofland told you has no bearing on what happened here last night."
"I didn't say it did."
"You implied it."
"I did no such thing."
"I know how your mind works, Dodge. You're skeptical by nature. Why would you tend to believe Amanda Lofland over your own flesh and blood?"
Afraid that his angry voice might carry upstairs and through the guest room door, he'd propelled Caroline across the living area and into the kitchen. As soon as they'd reached it and he'd shut the door, he leaned toward her.
"You march out that flesh-and-blood connection whenever you want to make a point or to remind me that I should have blind loyalty toward Berry now. But you weren't so keen on her being my flesh and blood the day she was born."
"Do you blame me?"
"No, Caroline, and I never did. You were in the right. I was wrong. I admitted I was."
"It wasn't enough."
"How well I know." She'd tried to stare him down but failed, and he'd derived some satisfaction from her being the first to turn away. After a moment, he'd said quietly, "I think you should prepare yourself."
"For what?"
"For just in case Berry hasn't been quite as up-front with you as you think." When she would have spoken, he'd sliced the air with his hand. "That's wh
at scares you, too, isn't it, Caroline? You said as much at the tearoom."
"I said--"
"I asked you what the problem was, and in reply you said that Berry is a lot like me. You knew that would be the one reason I'd stay on. Because we both know that the genes she got from me might not be pretty when they manifest themselves. If she's got herself into a mess, I'll help her get out of it, but the process might be disagreeable, to say the least." With that, he'd headed for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To town."
"What for?"
"I need a place to stay. Once I've got a room and dumped my stuff, I want to nose around, see if I can find a grapevine to tap into."
"How long will you be gone?"
"Can't say."
"Be back in time for dinner."
He'd stopped on his way through the door and looked at her. She'd looked anxious, as though afraid that, despite what he'd said, he might not return. He'd been tempted to ask her if she cared whether or not he came back, and if so, how much.