“When are you coming up to see us?” her father asked, picking up the bedroom extension. For once, he was in the house instead of outside working on the farm.
“Well, see, that’s the thing. The police . . . umm . . . may have some more questions for me. They’re still trying to catch the man who killed Delilah Larsen.”And may have shot at Ethan and me this morning.
“Delilah . . . she was that model who was murdered,” Pops said. Tall and thin, with blond hair turning silver, he actually looked like her, though they were not blood relatives.
“Lord, it seems like that happened ages ago,” her mother said.
“I can’t believe they haven’t caught the bastard yet,” Pops grumbled.
“The police are still looking. They’re doing their best, but they might need my help. Or Ethan’s.” She said the name just to hear how her parents would react.
“He’s your bodyguard, right?” her mother asked.
“Yes, but . . . our relationship has gotten a little more complicated lately.”
Silence fell. “Well, it’s about damned time,” her father said. “Beautiful young woman like you. Could have men beatin’ down your door if you wanted. Though I can’t say I’m sorry you been so choosy.”
“I know if he means something to you, he has to be a very special man,” her mother said. “We can’t wait to meet him.”
Some of the tightness loosened in her chest. She thought of Ethan and how much he loved his little girl. She thought of the way he had risked his life for her, thought of the fierce way he protected her.
“He is special, Mom. I’m not sure what’s going to happen between us, but I’d love for you to meet him.”
“Glory hallelujah,” her father said. “And he damned well better be good enough for my little girl.”
Val laughed. It felt unbelievably good. “We aren’t close to getting serious, Pops, so you don’t have to worry. Look, I have to go. We’ll talk again soon, okay? Love you both.”
“Love you, too, honey,” they said in unison, and Val pressed the End button on the phone.
Blinking back tears, she took a minute just to absorb the love they’d sent her with every word they’d spoken. She had been on her own for years. Been away at college, had her own car, her own home, her own life. But when things got tough, her parents were the ones she turned to, and they were always there for her.
She sat down on the weight bench to make another call. “It’s me, Meg. Can you talk?”
“I’ve been trying to call you. Your phone keeps going straight to voice mail. Is everything okay?”
“Not exactly. I’m surprised Matt Carlyle hasn’t called.”
“He probably has. Charlie wandered off with my cell phone and I haven’t had time to track it down. What’s going on?”
“You remember I had that anniversary interview for David Klein this morning on the local CBS station?”
“I remember. What about it?”
“Well, when I got back to my house, someone tried to shoot me.”
“What!”
“Or they might have been shooting at Ethan. We don’t know for sure. We’re staying somewhere safe until we can figure things out.”
“Oh my God!”
“I know. I . . . umm . . . got shot in the arm, but I’m okay.”
“You got shot, but you’re okay? Oh my God!”
“Really, it’s all right. Ethan’s guys, his team from La Belle, they’re helping us stay safe. They’re probably outside right now. You have someone there with you, right?”
“Dirk took care of it. There’s a man from Brodie Operations in front of the house twenty-four seven.”
