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“I’m perfectly safe. I have a cell phone and”—she held up her keys where he could see a pink attachment dangling from it—“pepper spray.”
Did she really think that would deter someone who meant her harm? But he wasn’t going to argue the point with her now. “Pepper spray or not, let me at least give you a ride home.”
“No, thank you,” she said, her tone high and cheery, not breaking her stride. “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”
Another cat joined the other two, one of them mewling loud and long like a banshee that was going to draw attention to her soon.
“I’m sure you are. But unless you want to be swarmed and possibly attacked by every cat within a five-block radius, I would recommend getting in the car.”
Her steps faltered as she looked around. One of the cats was as big as a small mountain lion and seemed to be getting a little pissed she wasn’t sharing.
“It would be tragic,” he said, keeping his tone easy, “reading the morning news about how the wife of escaped fraudster Spencer Johnson was found eaten alive by feral cats.”
“Ex-wife,” she corrected quickly. She seemed to balk for a few more seconds. “All right. I guess I can let you give me a ride.”
She detoured toward his car and climbed in, setting the can of sardines on the dash while she buckled up.
“Do you really need to bring those inside?” he asked.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby.”
A baby? He didn’t know when anyone had ever called him that. He was the eldest of five kids, the responsible, mature kid always keeping an eye on everyone else, seeing to their needs first. Being a baby was the last thing he’d been accused of—except when he literally was a baby.
He’d let that one slide.
“How did the case go?” she asked him, ready to change the subject. “Did you find what you needed out in Grand Junction?”
“Yeah. I think so,” he said, deciding to keep his window open to air out the car.
“What were you looking for, anyhow?”
“The client’s daughter moved there last month and started dating a new guy a week later. It’s getting pretty serious, and the dad wanted some assurance the boyfriend wasn’t some drug dealer or grifter.”
“You’re kidding.”
He shrugged. “The daughter has a nice trust fund from her grandmother waiting for her on her twenty-fifth birthday. She’d been targeted in the past.”
She considered that. “Still, it feels really gross having your dad investigating your boyfriends.”
“It happens more often than you think. Sometimes parents just want the peace of mind of knowing their babies are not dating serial killers or con men. If they have the means to do so, they’ll pay for that reassurance. You don’t think your father had any of your boyfriends looked into?”
She was quiet. “Probably not.”
“With your family’s money? I would bet he did.”
“He wouldn’t have had to. I’ve never dated any guy that my father didn’t introduce or preapprove of. They were always guys with the appropriate family background and pedigree that he thought was necessary for his only daughter.”
“But I thought you met Spencer when you were at Northwestern.”
“I did, but my father knew his family long before that. His great-aunt lives in Denver and is part of his social circle.”
Reynolds had never met Richard Abbott before, but he knew guys like him, and hearing this news didn’t surprise him. It was sad, though. Not just the man’s involvement in his daughter’s life but that his daughter had felt she had to comply with his wishes. Guess it went to show that women like her would always seek their father’s approval.
Another case in point why he couldn’t get mixed up with her other than professionally. Richard Abbott would never want someone as uncouth as him in his daughter’s life.
He was curious, though. “You never thought about bucking his demands and dating someone you wanted to date because you liked them?”
“There were a few guys in high school and later in college who asked me out, but…” She paused then shrugged. “I don’t know. I just never felt like they’d be very interested in me once they got to know me.”
