Unable to protest and at a loss for words, Beatrice turned to her oldest daughter. The silent request was understood. It was time for the family caretaker. “Sergeant Mitchell,” Ronnie said, stepping between the officer and her mother. “What happens to Tommy now?”


“After they get done stitching him up he’ll be taken over to the County Jail and booked. If he gets there early enough, Judge Turner will set bail today, otherwise it’ll be tomorrow.” He shook his head. “I’ll tell you this, Miss. If you don’t get that fellow some help soon, you’d better plan on spending lots of time here.” He put the pad away and took a step back. “He was lucky this time. There’s something to be said for automatic seat belts and air bags. We could be looking at something far worse here than a few cuts and bruises.”


“Yes, very lucky.” From the corner of her eye, Ronnie saw Susan wrapping an arm around their mother, who looked torn between berating the officer and breaking down in tears. She understood her mother’s struggle. This was a problem the Cartwright name and money could not fix. “Oh.” She turned to the officer. “What about his car?”


“It’s been impounded. We’ll let you know when you can have it picked up. It’s totaled, though.”


“I want to see my son,” Beatrice announced.


“Once they finish with him, he’s going up to the jail. You can see him there once he’s been booked.”


“Sergeant,” Ronnie gave him a soft smile, hoping to diffuse the tension in the air. “Would it hurt anything if she saw him for just a minute?” She saw him waver and moved in, lowering her voice so her mother wouldn’t overhear. “I think she needs to see him now, not after they’ve cleaned him up, don’t you?” He looked down at the floor for a second before giving a small nod.


“He’s a mess, Miss. You need to get him help.”


“I will,” she promised.


“Just for a minute and I have to stay with you.”


“Thank you.” She turned to face her mother and Susan. “He’s going to let us see him for a minute.” As they moved to follow the policeman, Ronnie felt her sister’s hand on her arm.


“Are you sure this is a good idea?”


“No,” Ronnie admitted. “But I don’t think hiding the truth from her is the best thing either. Maybe she does need to see him now, to see what he’s doing to himself.”




In her thirty-three years, Ronnie could only remember a handful of times when her mother had cried. No matter how much something upset Beatrice Cartwright, she kept it inside, a trait she passed on to her oldest child. Yet the sight of her youngest child in a hospital bed, his face bloodied and bruised, was enough to bring tears to the matriarch’s eyes. He opened his eyes at the gasp and looked at his mother, his eyes taking a moment to focus before he let his head drop back down onto the pillow. “What’d they tell you?” he asked warily.


“That you had an accident, Sweetie.” Beatrice walked over to the bed and took his hand in hers.


“I don’t know what happened, Mother…” He licked his lips as if parched. “I was up working late last night and I guess I must have been tired. I went out to get some breakfast and I must have fallen asleep at the wheel.” He looked up through blackened eyes and gave his mother an apologetic look. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here.”


Beatrice patted his hand and used her free hand to wipe her tears. “It’s all right, Honey. I’m here now. We’ll call Mister Jenkins and have him meet us at the jail. I’m sure he can take care of everything.”


“I guess I shouldn’t drive tired, huh?” he joked, his face twisting with pain as he tried to sit up.

“Oh, it hurts.” His sisters exchanged dubious looks at the exaggerated groan. Sergeant Mitchell politely coughed and looked at his watch.


“Mother, I think it’s time for us to leave,” Ronnie said, putting her hands on the smaller woman’s shoulders. “Why don’t you and Susan wait for me out in the waiting room? I want to talk to Tommy for a minute.”


Beatrice nodded and headed toward her younger daughter, who quickly led her out of the room. Ronnie listened to her mother’s voice trail off as they disappeared down the hallway. “…and he’s such a handsome boy, Susan. I hope he doesn’t end up with any scars.”


“So what’s up, Sis?” Tommy grinned at her, his trademark Cheshire look not working too well with a broken nose and bloodied lip. His grin faded when Ronnie moved closer, her face showing not anger, but concern.


“Tommy, you need help. Things are only going to get worse.” Despite all that had happened between them during the last couple of months, this was still her brother. “If you get treatment maybe they’ll drop the charges.”


“Treatment?” he scoffed. “You make me sound like one of those bums who live in the gutter.”


“Lots of people with money and status go into treatment, Tommy. You could go to the Betty Ford Clinic if you wanted to. I understand that’s a great place.”


“If it’s so fucking wonderful then you go there.”


“This time it was a pole, next time it could be another car or worse. This has to stop.” She ran her fingers through her hair, frustration making itself known with a long release of breath. “You obviously have a drinking problem and probably a drug problem too.”


“One look and you can tell that, right Doctor Cartwright?” he sneered.


“You stole Rose’s pills from my house, Tommy! You tried to break into the safe in the office and you’ve forged my name on bank loans. If it’s not drugs then what is it? You tell me, because I can’t understand why else you’d be doing these things.”


“Is that what this is about? Your friend can’t find her stupid pills and of course since I was in your house once in the last three years you decide it has to be me?”


“Twice,” she corrected, her jaw clenched with anger. “Or don’t you remember the night you upended my coffee table?”


“Get out of here, Ronnie,” he growled. “I fell asleep at the wheel, nothing more. You’re just trying to poison everyone against me.”


“I’m trying to help you, Tommy. You need a rehab before you kill yourself or someone else.”


“What I need is a fair shake—something I don’t get with you around—Oh mighty Veronica, Queen of the Cartwrights.”


“Tommy…”


“Fuck you, Ronnie!”


“Miss Cartwright,” she was surprised to find the sergeant still in the room, having forgotten all about him. “You can’t do anything more here. Why don’t you go see to your mother and I’ll deal with him.”


“That’s right, Ronnie, go see Mother and show her what a good daughter you are,” Tommy snarled. “Maybe she’ll even forget her pride and joy is a dyke.”


Dead silence descended on the room. Ronnie’s brain tried desperately to rewrite what it had heard but to no avail. Her head hung down, the long black tresses hiding her face from the officer’s view. Her emotions swirled and it was several breaths before she found her voice. “I really hope you get help, Tommy.” She walked out of the room and went in the opposite direction of the waiting area, unable to face her family yet.


Outside the snow was falling gently, creating a light haze of white against the gray sky. Ronnie leaned against the cold brick of the building. With her jacket still upstairs in the waiting room, the silk blouse was little defense against the cold wind. Still the weary executive stayed where she was, hoping the bitter chill would freeze some of her pain. Ronnie was torn between being angry with her brother and worrying that he was on a self-destructive course with only two possible endings, jail or death. His hurtful words replayed themselves over in her mind and she wanted nothing more than to be home, curled up against Rose.…blue eyes closed and she let her mind fill with the vision of the young woman. Ronnie lost herself momentarily in the imaginary comfort of Rose’s arms when she felt a very real hand on her arm.


“It’s cold out here. Come inside,” Susan said, holding out her sister’s jacket.


Ronnie took the jacket and hugged it to her chest. “Thanks. I’ll be up in a little bit. I just need some air.” The warmth of the leather permeated through the silk, letting her know just how cold it really was.


“I know what he said,” Susan admitted, taking the jacket and holding it out for Ronnie to slip her arms in. “Sergeant Mitchell pulled me aside and told me.”


“Terrific. Maybe he’ll put it in his report too.” She straightened up long enough to get the jacket on, then leaned back against the wall.


“He promised me he wouldn’t say anything. He was just worried you were upset.” The redhead put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take off? Go home to Rose. I’ll stay here with Mother and wait for Mister Jenkins.”


Ronnie’s first thought was to accept her sister’s offer and escape to the one person who made her feel comfortable…to get away from this mess she did not want to deal with and return to her sanctuary. But while being the oldest meant being in charge, it also carried with it a great deal of responsibility. She sighed. “No, you know I can’t leave until it’s over.”


“I know, I just thought I’d at least offer.” Susan looked at the falling snow and shivered. “You know I’m freezing out here.”


“Why don’t you go home to Jack and the kids? I can handle Mother.”