Princess (American Princess #1)(47)
Author: Courtney Cole

Danny was incredibly pale as he stood silently in the doorway, taking in the bloody scene in front of him. It took a moment before Sydney realized that blood was running down his arm and dripping onto the floor in droplets.  She jumped up and rushed to him, pulling him down onto her lap on the floor so that she could examine him.

“Danny, what happened?”

“I don’t know. I was upstairs, resting after your mom gave me a snack and tea.  And then a little bit ago, a bug bit me.  And I started bleeding.”

A bug bite?  Stephen and Sydney’s eyes met over the little boy’s head, and in unison, they looked at the hole in the ceiling.

Jillian’s errant bullet. The guest bedroom that Danny had been in was directly over the kitchen.  Sydney quickly pushed Danny’s sleeve up to his shoulder to find an inch-long cut on his bicep.  The bullet had only grazed him although it might be deep enough to require stitches.  All of the breath in her lungs exhaled in a whoosh of relief.

She hugged him tightly to her.

“Danny, I’m so sorry that you got mixed up in all of this.  So, so sorry.  If you go with Stephen, he can take you to call your parents, okay?  And then a paramedic will have to look at your arm.”

She hugged him again and then handed him off to Stephen.  “I’ve got to check on my dad.”

She stepped carefully through the mess in the kitchen.  It was like a warzone.  Jillian and Harrison’s bodies were outlined by tape and tiny flags.  FBI agents were busily taking samples and photographing the scene.  Shattered glass and pools of blood seemed to be everywhere, so Sydney carefully watched where she stepped, although she tried to avoid looking at her mother’s body.

The paramedics finally seemed to have her father ready to transport to the hospital, so Sydney stepped up to his side.  His olive complexion was drained of color and his eyes were closed.  She grabbed his hand.

“Daddy?”

Randall Ross opened his eyes and looked at his daughter.  She felt the weakness in his grasp as he squeezed her hand.  Anxiety creased her brow as she stared down at him.

“Sydney, I’m going to be fine.  It’s a shoulder wound.  They’ve stopped the bleeding and everything is going to be okay.  I love you.”

A lump formed in her throat that she found extremely difficult to swallow.

“I love you, too, Daddy.  We’ll see you at the hospital.”

Two paramedics began pushing him rapidly toward the door, so Sydney took a step back to allow them to pass.   She was still standing in the same spot a few minutes later, lost in her thoughts, when FBI Agent Briggs approached her.

Short and middle-aged, Briggs was nondescript in appearance. Without his blue jacket with the yellow “FBI” letters, she would never have guessed who he was.  But his eyes were kind.

“Miss Ross?” He seemed hesitant to interrupt her reverie.  She offered him a small smile and extended her hand with all of the grace of Jackie O.

“Agent.  Thank you for coming here to help.”

He reached out and shook her hand.

“I’m sorry that we couldn’t get here sooner. The courage that you’ve shown is admirable, young lady.”

“Thank you,” she murmured softly, still looking absently around the room.  “There are so many things about today that I’m never going to understand.”

“I can imagine.” Agent Briggs solemnly evaluated her bloodied face, not a drop of which was her own. “Well, actually, maybe I can’t. You’ve gone through hell.  Anyone who thinks that money can buy happiness should come and talk to you.”

Sydney stared at him with clear eyes.

“You’re right, Agent Briggs.  Money certainly cannot buy happiness.” She gazed at her mother’s lifeless body.  “Obviously.” She sighed a sigh heavy enough to contain the weight of the world in it while Agent Briggs stared at her sympathetically.

“It’s going to be awhile before we can piece everything together, but from what we’ve gathered, your mom and Harrison Daniels have been plotting this for awhile.  Revenge and money are two of the most common motives that I see in my line of work and between the two of them, they had them both covered.”

“I just don’t understand how my mother could turn on us like that.  I’ve never done a thing to her.  It’s unfathomable.”

Sydney couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from her mother’s body.  It was macabre and morbid, but she was fascinated by the way her mother had threatened her life just minutes ago, and was now dead herself.  Sydney was safe and her mother was dead.  Her mind just couldn’t comprehend everything…it couldn’t keep up.  It had been overloaded today.

“Miss Ross, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if your mother had mental issues that she kept carefully hidden from everyone.  Just like Harrison Daniels.  No sane person could have done what they did.”

His eyes beseeched her with an unspoken message- that it wasn’t her fault that her mother didn’t love her.  She appreciated that and she had been right.  Agent Briggs was a kind person.

“We’re going to need your statement regarding everything that has happened, but it can wait until tomorrow.  I think it’s best if you go to the hospital to be with your father today.”

She nodded as he squeezed her elbow, before he left her to continue working on the scene. Stephen sidled up to take the agent’s place.

“Danny’s mother was beyond relieved.  She’s on her way over.  I told her that the FBI was here and that they would more than likely want to talk to her, as well.  What a nightmare, Sydney.”

“Well, that’s the understatement of the decade.”

She turned and kissed him on the mouth, savoring the feel of his soft, warm lips as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She was safe in his arms. If she had ever doubted it, she knew it now.  Thirty minutes ago, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever even see Stephen again, let alone stand and talk to him.  She soaked in his presence now, happy in an I’m-so-happy-we’re-alive type of way.

“How are you holding up?” Stephen examined her face and wiped at the blood droplets that were dried onto her cheek. It was hard telling whose blood it even was.

“Oh, you know.  Like any other girl who… oh, forget it.  I’m a wreck.  I should be crying, but I’m not. I can’t and I don’t know why. I feel numb, my mother is dead, I thought you were dead, my father almost died and I feel like I could sleep for a week. I just want to pull the covers over my head and hide from the world.  But on the same token, I know I’m going to be scared to close my eyes.  I’m afraid of what I’ll see when I do.”