Page 78 of Long Gone

“She’s probably off pouting somewhere. She’s not getting her way with either of us, and she doesn’t know how to handle it.”

“Pouting enough to pack a suitcase and run away?”

“That’s her game. To make you worry and fret and then instead of apologizing for worrying you, she’ll make sure you’re the one groveling.” He let out a tired sigh. “Don’t let her win. Don’t play.”

“So do nothing?”

“She’s a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She’s just fooled everyone into believing she’s not. The biggest gift we can give her is to stop engaging. It’s a fool’s errand and you’ll only be unhappy in the end.”

Like he’d been. He didn’t need to say it, because it would have been like telling me the earth rotates around the sun. It was a fact that didn’t need stating.

“Okay, I’ll do nothing. Thanks, Dad.”

“I love you, honey. I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this.”

I was sorry too but saying so wouldn’t help anything. I was about to hang up, but then I realized my father might be able to help me with something else. “Say, Dad, before you go—did Mitch tell you what case I’m working on?”

“No, he didn’t go into particulars. He just told me you’re looking for a missing person so the man’s wife can declare him dead.”

“So he didn’t tell you it was Hugo Burton?”

He was quiet for several seconds, then finally he said, “Hugo.”

“You knew him?”

“I did.” But there was hesitation in his voice.

“Would you be open to having dinner tonight so I can pick your brain about the case?”

He hesitated again. “Sure.” His tone was cheerful but forced. “Do you want to go to Roots?”

“Actually, I was thinking somewhere else that’s more casual.”

When I suggested Scooter’s, he laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“You want to loosen up after living under Mom’s thumb for so long? Trust me, this is a good place to start.”

He laughed again. “Okay, kiddo. How about we meet at seven?”

“See you then, Dad.”

“Love you, Harper,” he said, his voice breaking on my name.

“I love you too, Dad.” It was true, but I still mourned the father I hadn’t had for the past twenty years. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over it.

Chapter 19

I closed the garage door and headed upstairs, forgetting that I’d left James Malcolm in my apartment until I opened the front door and saw him standing in my living room, stark naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist.

He gave me a sardonic look. “Ever think of knocking?”

It took me a second to look away from the hard muscles of his body and the tattoo of a large tree on his left pec that reached up to his shoulder. A small flower wove around the base of the tree. It obviously had meaning, but what? Not my business, but I still could appreciate that a man in his forties was in such great shape.

“Why would I knock on the door to my own apartment?” I demanded a little too forcefully as I shut the door.

His gaze drifted up and down my body and he made a face. “What are you wearing?”

“A track suit.”

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