This story started here.
Seeing my employer and Christy coming down the wide front steps of the hotel, I opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. This was ostensibly to hold the door for my employer, but in reality it was so I could catch her as she swooned. I had recognized the uncertainty in her step as she'd limped down the stairs.
It had been too many hours on too little food. I'd tried to get her to take at least half of the one sandwich we'd managed to rescue from Ron and Bea, but she had insisted that it go to Stu. Also, I could tell she'd been successful in the hotel. When a case was unsolved she could keep going on nerves and excitement, but then when she had the answers it would sometimes all catch up with her. Which it did, and I took her arm.
"Oh," she said in surprise, leaning on me. "When we get home–"
"Not when we get home," I said. "We're going to have dinner now. I've paid off the driver. Let's go."
She started to protest, but Ron was with us by then and the car was pulling away, so she nodded.
"There's a good place around that corner," Ron said, pointing. We all looked at her in surprise. "We went there, my family, when we were staying here," she explained.
I smiled. This just showed how completely I saw Ron as part of our family. I had forgotten for a moment that she had been part of the Davis family when they'd been staying at this hotel. That had been when Ron had run away, and when her sister had been seduced (I assumed) by a hotel employee named Trainor. Who had probably killed her.
So, Ron took charge. She led us to the restaurant, directed us to her preferred booth, and recommended the franks and beans. I was the only one who took her up on this suggestion.