Pocketing them, he got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. He opened the door and reached over Mallory’s still form to unfasten her seat belt. “Come on, Mal,” he said softly. “We need to get you inside, get you cleaned up.” It didn’t take an EMT to tell she was in shock, and he wasn’t sure he shouldn’t take her directly to the nearest emergency room. He was debating that possibility when she moved toward the door. He helped her out and supported her as she walked with a staggered gait. Charlie fumbled momentarily with the key, then pushed the front door open and slammed it closed behind them with his foot. Once inside, he dropped her bag to the floor. “We need to get you cleaned up,” he repeated, wondering just how they were going to do that. “Guess your shower’s upstairs, right?” He took her hand and helped her up the steps. At the top of the stairs, he rightly guessed that the middle door of three on the left was the bathroom, and he steered her in.
