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Trent was sitting behind the wheel, smiling at her. “Sergeant Malone told me you forgot something at the station.”
She swiped the items and put them on, looking away so the rookie couldn’t see the tears in her eyes, then got into the car. “There’s actually something else I need to take care of before we go wherever we’re going.”
“What is it?”
Her stomach grumbled and he laughed.
“Well, besides the fact that I’m starving…” She hesitated. The next bit wouldn’t be easy to say, and it would make the situation more real, but something about having Trent with her, even waiting in the car, made the thought of going to her parents’ a little easier to bear.
“Steel trap, remember?” he prompted.
“Rick Jensen took his threats one step further. He said he knows how to get to my dad. He had a picture of him outside my parents’ house.”
“Tell me where I’m going.”
Thirty
The redbrick two-story was a feature from her past, with its white trim and red shutters, its double garage, its wraparound porch, and the front bay window. She’d skinned her knees and endured numerous bumps and bruises within the confines of those walls and in the yard. She used to love swinging on the tire that hung from the large, majestic oak in the back.
A gray four-door sedan sat in the driveway—the same one from Rick Jensen’s photo. It was probably her mother’s car, because she’d always preferred monochromatic shades, while her father loved color. Either they had downsized to one car or had started using the garage for more than just storage.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Trent asked.
She saw the curtain in the front window get swept back. Her mother was standing there, a hand on her hip.
“I’ve got this, Trent. Thank you.” She got out and headed to the door, intending to knock, but it whooshed open.
“Mandy!” Her mother threw her arms around Amanda.
It had been so long since she’d felt her mother’s embrace. She held her so tightly, Amanda felt pain run down her spine, but she still didn’t want to let go. It was only reluctantly that she did so a few moments later. But she had to remember she was there for a purpose, not a reunion, and that Trent was waiting in the car.
Her mother swept a strand of Amanda’s hair behind an ear and gingerly touched her cheek. “Oh dear. What happened to you?”
“A long story,” Amanda said. “Can I come in?”
“Of course, sweetheart!” Her mother turned and yelled, “Nathan!”
Her father’s mumbles reached Amanda’s ears, along with footsteps coming through from the back sitting room, which was off the kitchen.
“What is it, Jules?”
“It’s—” Her mother clamped her hands over her mouth when Amanda’s father stepped into view.
“Mandy,” he uttered, eyes full of tears. His face was all shadows.
“I should have called you back, but—”
“Nonsense,” her mother said. “This is even better. You’re home. Finally.” Her mother pranced deeper into the house.
Amanda shut the front door as it seemed her parents had forgotten about it and moved toward her father. She studied the man who’d raised her, who she’d idolized for so long, who she’d wanted to become.
He opened his arms and she fell against him, burrowing her head into his chest. Her father wrapped his arms around her, and all she could smell was the fragrance of Irish Spring soap. It was the kind he’d used for as long as she could remember. His body was warm and comforting, and in this moment, she felt so loved and accepted—like she was home and had never left.
Her father ended their hug, and said, “My Mandy Monkey, it’s about time you returned to us.”
She sniffled, hating to admit to herself that if it hadn’t been for the threat against her father, she probably wouldn’t be there now. “I’m so sorry. It’s just…” She forced a smile. She was angry and embarrassed and overwrought with guilt. If only she hadn’t insisted on getting involved with the Palmer investigation, then her father’s life wouldn’t be at risk and she could avoid all these uncomfortable feelings. “I can’t stay long.”
“Nonsense.” Her mother reappeared. “I just put the kettle on to make us some tea.”
