He startles and knocks his lamp to the ground.
“Are you okay?”
He glances around, then grabs me, pulling me into the study and shutting the door on Danger.
“Sorry, pup, but it’s not safe in here,” he says through the thick wood. Danger protests.
“What’s going on?”
“The thief has struck again!” he snarls. “I hate this, living wondering when they are going to be caught. It’s so disgusting.”
I cringe at the fury in his tone. “What’s missing?”
“A deed!” he cries. “To the lighthouse.”
“You own the lighthouse?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m holding onto it, but I went out a few hours ago, and when I came home, it was gone. It was right here on the desk.”
“But there will be other copies,” I remind him.
“Of course, there are; they just take a while to get them, and I was asked to give them back. They need them today.”
He spins around and yanks open a drawer, tipping it onto the desk and rifling through the paperwork.
“Ah. So, why are you freaking out so much about this?”
He’s made a mess of his study. There are books everywhere; his drawers are upside down, the contents on the floor.
“Because I hate thieves, and I need to know what else these slimeballs took.”
I nod, my gut tightening with unease. Danger takes my silence as a cue to start howling like he’s dying.
“This house is so loud,” Dad says.
I flinch. “Sorry.”
“No, not you. I don’t mean you. It’s just-”
“Dad, I get it. Let me go get Mum and she can-”
“No!” he almost shouts. “No, just take your pup and go relax. Forget about this. You saw nothing.”
“I can help you look.”
“No. You don’t need to do that. I’ll find it and or go and get a replacement copy this afternoon,” he mutters and scrapes a hand across his face.
His shoulders slump.
“Dad, it will be okay. These things turn up, and they work out.”
He glances up at me, wincing. “I don’t like to let anyone down.”
I laugh softly. “I know that feeling really well.”
“Yeah, well, you are our daughter.” His fond smile hits hard. I have missed him more than I can say.
I turn to the door.
