Page 237 of Deep Cover

"Where are you?"

That was a very definite command, the old Officer Knox, commanding and demanding and not taking no for an answer. It wasn't something I thought of very often because I'd grown up idolizing my father and wanting to be just like him. But he had a heavy hand and he ruled his home and castle no differently in a way than Cole did.

Not that I'd ever put them in the same room. Not even for a minute.

"I'm in – "

"If you say rehab, I'll wash your mouth out when we find you. Young lady, there is no kind of rehab that works like this."

I didn't bother asking what "like this" meant. It undoubtedly meant being totally out of contact with family. Not being in a place that could be named or where I could reliably be found. It meant – that I really was in treatment but there was nothing at all normal about it and nothing I could share with my father.

Or my fiancé.

"Dad? Are you – "

Furious? Oh, yes, he was. "I'm in contact with Mark is what I am," he said, as if whatever I was going to ask, he was going to answer with what was important to him. "We're working together to find you since you can't be bothered to call like you were doing and reassure us you're still alive. And – "

"What's the difference?" I snapped, startling both of us, I think. "I'm out of contact when I'm undercover. What's so different about this? Nobody should be trying to kill me when I'm in rehab."

Honestly? That sounded like a great idea.

My father ignored it. "Mark and I are looking for you. We're going to go on looking for you unless you'd like to tell us where you are."

So did not want to do that. "I know I'm out of contact. I'm sorry. I really am receiving help for the addiction but it's a little unorthodox. Daddy, I'm all right and I'll be back as soon as I can. I left too soon the first time and I relapsed. I want this one to work. I'm doing some college work and thinking of applying with the feds.'

I waited to see if he'd object. Of course he didn't. He just went on with what he had to say.

"We've talked to your commanding officer."

We? He and Mark went and talked to the loot? Oh, that sucked.

"He said you were on indefinite leave, and he wouldn't tell me what for, though my guess is the addiction."

I blew out a sigh as silently as I could. My commanding officer had given out as little information as he could – he wasn't supposed to give out any – enough to keep my father from freaking out too much for just a little while longer.

My relief was short lived. Because he kept talking. "When we find you, we're going to take you to get help." My father didn't do condescending, but his words were anyway. As if I couldn't make my own decisions about my own care. As if only when I was undercover could I be allowed to disappear on my own and keep my whereabouts secret.

As far as I knew, I was an individual separate from my father and definitely from my fiancé.

I bristled hard at what he was saying. "What do you mean, take me somewhere to get help? I am getting help and I'm sorry if you don't believe that. You worked vice – you must have seen someone who did things unconventionally and still got them done."

He snorted. That was a new one, coming from him. "Annie, if I thought you were getting help, I'd leave you where you are. But you are not in rehab or in a hospital."

Alarm bells started to sound in my mind. "Dad, what have you done/"

"Put a trace on the phone," he answered promptly.

Too promptly. That meant he was almost here. He'd been keeping me talking. I was using one of Cole's landlines. Probably they'd already narrowed in on southern Nevada, only for the last few weeks, I hadn't been here. There'd been no phone calls at all.

I panicked. "Dad, please. I am fine. I need to stay where I am!" I couldn't bear the idea of having doctors prying at my memory and trying to help me heal right now. If anything, I'd have gone back to fet if it was an option in order to forget everything I felt and experienced and knew and flashed back to.

"You're not. You're lying or you're under duress and anyway, it doesn't matter."

I went completely cold, holding the phone in both hands as if I could use it to fend off the news.

"Dad?" I could hear the panic in my own voice clearly now. "Where are you?"

"On your doorstep," he said, just before the pounding started on the door.

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