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“Right now? A cup of tea and my pain pill would be wonderful. I sent Shirley home when the physical therapist came around noon to help me with my exercises. There was no point in her staying any longer since I knew you’d be here soon. I can get around the house with that ugly thing,” she pointed at the walker, “but I’m tired. Plus, this book has my heart going a bit. I think I need a break. I’m too old to get so excited.”

She snickered. “One tea, a horse pill, and a fan to cool off from the spicy gay romance, coming right up.”

Maybe spending the next week or two in the middle of nowhere wouldn't be that bad—as long as she didn’t have to deal with the arrogant county sheriff again beyond her court appearance.

Could she be that lucky?

God, she hoped so.

Chapter Four

Grady raked the soles of his boots across the mud scraper on the back porch, knocking loose the clumps of dirt caked to them. Once they were as clean as they'd get, he unlocked the back door and stepped into the small mudroom. He groaned as he toed off his boots.

It had been a long day—too damn long. His head pounded again, and he looked forward to a cold beer and mindless TV until sleep finally claimed him.

Only two lights were on in the house—one over the kitchen stove and a lamp in the living room near the bottom of the stairs. Rissa was no doubt asleep in her bed, or at least she better be. She had school in the morning, and it was almost midnight.

The accident had taken hours to clear. Then he and his deputies backed up the Butterfield police department and responded to a brawl at one of the biker bars. Three people had been sent to the hospital for stitches and broken bones, while five others were spending at least the next few days in jail. Grady had left them, along with a mound of paperwork, in the capable hands of the overnight shift and their supervisor.

“Dad? Is that you?”

Sighing but secretly happy he’d get to see her, he moved through the kitchen to the foyer, stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and called up, “Yeah, sweetie, it’s me. Who else would it be? Expecting a boyfriend? I still have my gun belt on.”

“Jeez, Dad, no one comes over when you’re not home except Hailey. Gimme some credit, okay? And besides, I'm not dating anyone.”

Ever since she’d gotten too old for a sitter, her best friend since second grade was the only person allowed in the house when Rissa was home alone. As far as he knew, his daughter had never broken that rule.

She came down the stairs in flannel pajamas despite the warm weather, bunny slippers on her feet, and her hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head. She was so beautiful, just as her mother had been, and the thought made his chest ache.

Time was flying by. One day, some young man who thought he was good enough for her would come along and become the most important person in her life.

The lucky bastard would be wrong, though. No one would ever be good enough for Grady Minor’s baby girl.

“Sorry. It’s been a long day. You weren’t waiting up for me, were you?”

He’d called her again on his way to the brawl, telling her he was still investigating the accident. It was a small white lie so she wouldn’t worry.

“Of course I was! I wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you?”

She followed him into the living room and wrapped her arms around him, her familiar, slightly sleepy scent filling his nose. It took him back to when she was little and always wanted to be on his lap, snuggled against him.

“Yeah, I’m okay. The accident was bad—one fatality. No one we know,” he added before she could ask. “A woman from Nevada.”

The state police were handling the death notification to her family, something he was grateful for. That was one part of the job he’d never gotten used to, and he never took it lightly.

He rested his chin on top of Rissa’s head. Her mother had been the same height, and he’d often held Leah this way while telling her about a workday that had gone to shit. His wife had encouraged the small ritual so he wouldn’t bottle up the worst parts of the job. Over time, he’d realized talking to her helped him leave some of the ugliness behind instead of carrying it around.

During the past few years, whether she realized it or not, Rissa had taken over part of that role. But he censored the worst of it for his daughter.

The calls he’d shared with Leah only after making sure young Rissa couldn’t hear had been different. Those were the ones he’d talked about in the privacy of their shower, where he could break down without frightening his little girl. That was still where he went when a call followed him home and refused to let go.

Except now, he did it alone.

“And it was a long and aggravating day before that call even came in.”

“Aggravating?” Rissa pulled back from his embrace and narrowed her eyes. “That’s a word I haven’t heard you use about the job in a while. At least not when you didn’t have a meeting with any politicians.”

“Yeah, well, I had a run-in with Mrs. Morehead again, which is just as bad as meeting with the town council or county board. This time, she complained about some kids skateboarding in front of her shop, and before that, I pulled over an out-of-towner and gave her two tickets. She didn’t take it well. I’m sure I’ll be seeing her in court next week.” He pushed both annoying encounters out of his head. “Have you decided which college you want to go to?”