will be in now,” Ryan told him. “Whenever there’s a crisis, she hears about it and opens early.”
Emma’s gaze slid past the journalist, searching the room until she spotted Sue Ellen over by the window, still in her bathrobe, her bruised and battered face streaked with dried tears and blood. Her expression, reflected in the glass, was blank.
“Let me talk to Mrs. Carter,” Ford said to Ryan. “Just a couple of questions.”
“No way,” Emma said so fiercely that both men’s heads snapped around to face her.
“Emma,” Ryan said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He looked exhausted and sad. “I didn’t expect you to show up here.”
“Lauren called. She told me what happened.”
“I’m glad,” he said, casting a worried look at the woman huddled in a chair across the room. “Sue Ellen’s going to need all the legal help she can get.”
Ford scowled at them. “If you two are finished, do you suppose we could get back to business?” Ford asked. “I’d like to speak to Mrs. Carter, so I can get a couple of paragraphs into this week’s edition. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“And I told you to forget about it,” Emma said. “She’s not talking to anybody, you or the sheriff, until I’ve had a chance to talk to her. How did you get here so fast, anyway? Do you have a police scanner in your bedroom?”
“I’ve been up all night,” he said, looking her straight in the eye. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Ryan was with me at the paper. I was getting it ready to go to the printer this morning. The call came in about an hour ago.”
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