“Humor me.”
She returned to the kitchen just as two customers near the counter leaned conspicuously closer together to whisper.
I waited until Zelda disappeared through the swinging doors before turning back to Amy. “How long before you think my dad or Josh shows up?”
Amy glanced out the window. “About now.”
I followed her gaze and there was my dad getting out of his patrol car.
“The cavalry,” I muttered.
Amy straightened in her seat. “Brace yourself.”
“For whom? The sheriff or my dad?”
The diner door opened. The bell jingled, and the hum inside the Star Diner dipped again.
Dad stepped in, scanning the room once before his eyes locked on me.
He didn’t rush. He walked.
His steps slow and measured.
Sheriff first. Dad second.
He slid into the booth beside me instead of across from me, turning my chin gently toward the light.
“What happened?”
“Good morning, Dad.”
“Pepper,” he said in that dad tone that meant he expected an answer without delay.
“It was an accident.”
“How?”
“A rug tripped me up.”
His brows drew together. “And?”
“And Ian’s elbow and his cell phone got in the way of his heroic rescue.”
He leaned back slightly, studying my eye.
“You trip often?”
“Only when running at full speed into my own bedroom, screaming.”
“Being chased?” he asked, continuing to interrogate.
I was quick to clarify. “No. Ian was sleeping and I read something Aunt Effie wrote that shocked me. And I just had to wake him to tell him.”
He scanned my face again. “He hit you?”
“Dad, don’t be ridiculous. Ian would never?—”
His look turned stern. “I’m asking.”
