In all the turmoil, I'd forgotten I was pregnant. "No, but your father is going to be pissed when he gets back. Officer Kennedy is right. I need a good lawyer."
"We should call Thatcher Wright," Karen said.
"I lied out my ass, in front of a cop, impeded a police investigation. I knocked a woman senseless. . .", you're right. I need Thatcher-to-the-rescue-Wright."
"You were protecting me. That's why you slapped her. The policeman said so."
"I was protecting my baby," I said, squeezing her. "I have three babies; two and a half, at least." Then it flashed back to me. You know I didn't read your diary . . ."
"Of course I knew. You'd never read my diary. You promised. But, thanks for not letting her take it. I couldn't let her read it. I've written some stuff . . ."
"You have a right to secrets; it's you diary."
"I didn't lie. I don't know exactly where Mary Ellen is . . . right this minute."
"I figured that out."
"I want to tell you. I'm scared. I did something really bad, but for a good reason. I did a whole bunch of really bad things."
"Like helping Mary Ellen keep her baby?"
Karen nodded, bit her lip. "Can we go up to the love chair?"
"Give me a minute," I said. I released Woof from his kitchen imprisonment. He looked around for someone to attack and then seeing we were safe, licked us. I then called Thatcher Wright's cell phone number Paul had given me in case of an emergency. I thought this filled the bill. I left a message.
"This is Sarah North. I think I need a lawyer. Please give me a call. Thank you." I wanted to say I needed a conniving, underhanded lawyer, but I didn't want to scare him away. I followed Karen upstairs, edgy about what she might tell me. It still felt good to snuggle down in the love chair again; for both of us I suspect.
"Shoot," I said. "Out with it. After tonight I can take anything."
"Honesty-secret?"
"Cross my heart. Spill it."
"They want to take Mary Ellen's baby and she wants it to live." No surprise there. Maternal impulses trump the practical but what she said next was a surprise. "She knows she can't raise a child but she wants her baby to have a good home and not be murdered."
"You two talked about this?"
"Yes. She didn't have anyone else to listen."
"Do you know where Mary Ellen is?" I asked, exposing me to god knows what. What the hell, I'd soon have Thatcher to protect me.
"I don't know where she is, right this very minute."