I go through the store quickly, then head to my father’s house. Part of me feels that it should be strange to consider the house his again. Technically, it’s mine. My name is on the deed, and it has been since I was eighteen years old. I lived there alone for the ten years my father was missing out of my life. It was my house, but as soon as he resurfaced, it became his again. He moved back in and the interior shifted back to being more like it was when we lived there together during my college years than it was when I lived there alone as an adult.
But there are parts of it that are the same as they were before I left that house to go to Sherwood. Including my bedroom. He kept it the exact same way, so I can come and go as I please. I go there right after dropping the groceries off in the kitchen. I can’t wait to get out of the heels and pantyhose I wore to headquarters.
Once I’m comfortable again, I go back into the kitchen to make a late lunch that I carry into the living room to eat on the couch while I research on my laptop.
Four
“Do you ever take a break?”
I’m mid-bite and almost choke on the mashed chickpea salad sandwich when he comes into the room.
“I didn’t realize you were here,” I say, wiping my mouth with a napkin.
He gestures down the hall toward his room. “I was lying down for a bit. The heat gave me a headache. What are you eating?”
“Chickpea salad on multigrain bread. There’s a bowl of it in the refrigerator for you.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” he says.
He heads into the kitchen and comes back a few moments later with a thick sandwich piled high with the creamy salad, a few big leaves of lettuce, and thick slices of tomato. The other half of his plate is a small mountain of potato chips. Have to balance out all those health benefits. I wish I’d thought of it.
I reach over and snag one of his chips. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah. But I’m definitely looking forward to the summer weather being over,” he says.
I chuckle. “It’s July. You’ve got some time ahead of you.”
“I know. But I can start dreaming.” He takes a bite of his sandwich that looks as though he’s trying to devour half of it in one go. It takes him a few seconds to chew and swallow. “How was your meeting with Creagan?”
I sigh and take a sip of water. “Well, he started the conversation by telling me I did a good job on the takedown yesterday.”
“That’s great. That was a really tough case, and it’s good to hear he’s giving you the recognition you deserve,” Dad says.
“Then he told me he wants me to mentor a new agent,” I say.
Dad shrugs and takes another bite of his sandwich. “That’s not all that unusual, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a supervisor’s directly asking an agent to do it, but I’ve known plenty of established agents taking new ones under their wings.”
“What if I don’t want her under my wing?” I asked.
Dad laughs. “What’s wrong with helping out a new agent?”
“I have too much to do to babysit,” I say. “If she got this far, take it from there. And if she needs help, she’ll find people in her area who can help her. I don’t understand why Creagan decided I need to be the one to hold her hand and guide her through the career she chose.”
“Maybe because you’re the best example of a woman in the Bureau he can possibly think of,” Dad offers.
I shake my head. “Creagan would never say that. Today was the first time I can remember when he actually complimented me on how I did during a job. He can do a little congratulatory comment about its going well or a good resolution for the case. But he’s never just said I did a good job or I handled it well. That would be far too close to admitting he’s not the one who controls everything and makes everything happen. There’s something else behind this,” I say.
“Like what?” Dad asks.
“I don’t know. But I feel off about it,” I tell him. “Besides, I don’t think he has suddenly had some sort of come-to-Jesus moment and he’s going to recognize the contribution I made. And anyway, I’m too busy making said contribution to mama-bird someone else into everything. I don’t have a problem with meeting this woman or being on a team with her if there’s a case I’m working. But, the way he’s talking, it sounds as if he just wants her to shadow me. As if she’s supposed to just follow me around and watch what I do.”
“He’s going to have to understand you’re busy. The cases you’re handling are intense and require as much attention as you can possibly give them. He can’t expect you to just drop everything to spend time with her.”
“No,” I say. “But he thinks she’d be a great help.” I can’t mask the sarcasm in my voice. “Sam seems to think so, too. He thinks that I should be open to letting her do some of the groundwork for the investigation in Harlan while I’m dealing with Arrow Lake.”
“That might not be the worst idea,” Dad nods. “You’ve been trying to go back and forth. That’s got to be exhausting.”
“But she doesn’t know the case. She doesn’t know what happened or what any of that means. She doesn’t know the people involved. How is she supposed to make a valuable contribution?”
“You tell her the things she needs to know. Or you have her do things that don’t necessarily require her to have all the details right off the bat. You could also ask her to assist Dean when the two of you aren’t working on something together. Having FBI clearance can be more influential than
