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“What?” Andi’s voice rose. “That’s crazy. He actually told you that?”
Simmy ran a hand over her face. “Yes. The two of us . . . we talk to each other on a regular basis.”
Andi stepped closer. “What do you mean bytalk to each other?”
The investigator buried deep inside her was coming out. She needed more details—not purely out of nosiness either. She needed a complete picture of what was happening here.
This went much deeper than the man simply giving Simmy his phone number.
Simmy’s face remained grim. “Craig . . . he’s a nice guy.”
“Simmy . . . you didn’t tell me you knew him personally.” As many times as the two of them had talked about this podcast, it seemed like a subject that would have come up.
Andi pressed her lips together as she fought a frown.
“I just value my privacy, like most folks around here. Like I said before, Craig comes in about once a week, usually on Monday mornings. He sticks around for a while so we can shoot the breeze.” Simmy shrugged. “I’d go check on him myself, but I can’t leave the trading post.”
Silence stretched a moment.
Then Simmy shrugged and continued. “There’s also the small fact that . . . I believe Craig could be my father.”
* * *
Duke listened to the conversation with interest.
Simmy was full of surprises.
This whole evening had been full of surprises, for that matter.
Craig Rogers could be her father? Why in the world did she think that?
This didn’t seem like the appropriate time to ask—not when time was of the essence.
“I’ll go check on him.” Andi placed her hands on her hips, looking a little like Captain Marvel.
Alarm rushed through Duke at her words. Maybe it was the fact that he’d rescued her. Maybe it was the chivalrous side of him. He wasn’t sure.
But he felt responsible for her well-being.
He was certain Andi wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment, but he wouldn’t make any apologies for wanting to keep her safe.
“That’s a terrible idea. How about you start with calling the police? That’s a good place to begin.” Even as the words left his lips, Duke knew the truth.
The police wouldn’t get here anytime soon. They were stretched thin.
“I already called them.” Simmy’s voice cracked. “They’re having trouble getting out in these conditions. The wind and snow make it impossible for them to fly. There’s one officer up this way, but he’s caught up in a domestic dispute a hundred miles away.”
“A hundred miles, huh?” Duke rubbed his jaw, concealing his frown.
“If something happened to Craig . . . if he’s injured . . . he could be dead by the time police arrive.” Moisture glimmered in Simmy’s eyes. “Someone has to check on him. Please.”
“I’ll go,” Andi repeated. “If I can use your truck.”
“If you can get it started.” Simmy reached for the keys hanging on the wall behind her.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Duke raised a hand, hating to be a killjoy. But someone had to be the logical one. Nothing about this situation sounded like a good idea. “Driving conditions are downright dangerous right now. Do you even know where Craig lives?”
“I can tell you how to get there.” Simmy offered a brief but confident nod.
