Page 28 of In Safe Hands
“Chris Jennings called me and told me Daisy needed me at home.” His frown deepened with each word. “Thought she was in trouble or something. When I drove all the way home, she was fine. Said she had no idea why Jennings dragged me to Simpson. I ended up turning around and driving right back to Connor Springs. What a waste of time.”
“Hmm…” Rob was beginning to realize just how attached Chris was. He should’ve known something was up when Jennings bought a new grappling dummy for the department, when their “old” one had barely been used a year. “Sorry you were inconvenienced, but I have to admit that I’m concerned about Daisy, as well.”
“What?” His surly expression faded, and concern seeped into his tone. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Has she shown any signs of improvement since her mother…passed? Any attempts at leaving the house?”
The final traces of annoyance disappeared as Gabe deflated, sitting heavily on a concrete block. “Not really. She had a therapist for a while, but that didn’t…well, it didn’t pan out.”
“Why not?”
Guilt flashed over Gabe’s expression, and the defensive scowl returned. “What’s this all about, Sheriff?”
“Like I told you,” Rob said evenly, allowing sympathy to color his voice, “I’m concerned. What would happen if there was a structure fire? Or if she was injured or ill, and no one could get to her?”
Holding his hands palms-up in a gesture of helpless anger, Gabe demanded, “You think I don’t ask myself those questions every day? You think I don’t worry about her in that house?”
“I know you do,” Rob said soothingly. “I’m a father, too. I understand about worrying all the time. I’m not here to add to your problems. I’m here to offer to help—as much as I’m able, at least.”
Gabe slumped, and Rob knew he had him. “Thanks, Sheriff. Sorry. It’s just…hard.”
“I know.” Reaching out, Rob clasped the other man’s curled shoulder. “If something were to happen, is there any way I could reach her? Is there a key?”
“No.” Gabe didn’t raise his gaze. “There are too many locks on that inside door. My key chain would look like a janitor’s.”
Holding back a frustrated scowl, Rob asked, “Is there any other way into the house, any way to get to Daisy if she needed help?”
Gabe started to shake his head but then stopped, his expression brightening. “Yeah, there is. I’d almost forgotten about that.”
Rob listened intently, not allowing his satisfaction to show.
* * *
Her shaky hands had returned for the stupidest reason.
“Yes?” she said into the intercom mic, glad she could at least keep her voice steady.
“It’s me.”
“Oh, thank God! I mean, come on in, Chris.” She unlocked the outer door.
Once he was in the kitchen, she realized he hadn’t been wearing a coat. “Is spring finally here?”
“For now.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, watching as she dropped spoonfuls of dough on a cookie sheet. “Are you making those cheese-and-sausage biscuits?”
“Yes. I forgot to ask if anyone’s a vegetarian, so I tried to cover all my bases. There’s artichoke dip with chips, hummus with pita squares, these biscuits—even if they are greasy heart attacks waiting to happen—and I wanted to have a vegetable tray, but I only have frozen veggies, and those would be limp and soggy and gross, so I’m thinking about mini-pizzas, but there’s only water and coffee to drink, and I—”
“Daisy.” He crossed the kitchen and put his hands on her shoulders, the unexpected contact cutting off her flow of words. “Breathe.”
“I know.” She knew it would make him squirrelly again, but she couldn’t help it. Her head dropped forward to rest against his chest. “I’m being an idiot, but this is my first…thing. I haven’t even been to a party, or a get-together, or any kind of social gathering in years. I don’t know what I’m doing!” The last came out as a wail.
“Dais.” He sounded amused. Scowling, she raised her head to check.
“Are you laughing at me?” she demanded.
“No. At least, I’m trying really hard not to.”
She smacked him on the upper arm. “I’m having a nervous breakdown, and you think it’s hilarious.”
