“Rhett Hennessy. Detective Rhett Hennessy.”
Both my parents, but especially my father, had been very involved in my case, and I knew he’d recognize the name. I didn’t know what kind of reaction I’d get, however.
“Good man. I’ve always liked him. He’s young, but that works in his favor. He’s got drive. Great cop. Not a bad choice.”
My mother glanced at my father before faux whispering, “And he’s handsome in that rough, primal sort of way. Good choice, for sure.”
My father raised an eyebrow at my mother. “I’ll show you handsome in a rough, primal sort of way.” He growled and stepped toward her.
“Do you want me to grab my steak off the grill and take it to go? I can leave you two . . . alone.”
My parents both laughed, and my father stepped back. “No, we’ll save this for later.”
“Okay. Ewww. Just ewww. I don’t want to hear it.”
My mother leaned in and hugged me again, and Chaney wiggled between us. “It’s good to see you smile. Now, let’s go throw together a salad and eat.”
Dinner was filled with my father telling stories about some of the crazy happenings at the courthouse. The family that attempted to stage a protest on the steps before they realized their son had agreed to a plea bargain. The defendant who had head-butted the bailiff and tried to make a run for it, but tripped over his own feet and sprained an ankle before he could get out of the courtroom. I swear, it was stuff that I would have never believed if I hadn’t been raised around a dinner table hearing stories like that.
My mother added anecdotes from her docent position at the New Orleans Museum of Art. Her influence and spending so much time at the museum as a kid had begun my love of art and ultimately determined my career choice. I hadn’t wanted art to sit in a museum, though, so people could only see it when they visited. I wanted more accessible art—the kind you could take home and enjoy every day.
By the time I’d filled my belly with steak, veggies, and homemade raspberry pie, I’d also drunk several glasses of wine.
“It’s a good thing I’m walking home,” I said as I stood to clear the table. “I wouldn’t want to end up in front of one of daddy’s colleagues.”
My dad laughed. “You’re too smart to ever do anything that stupid.”
My insides squirmed a little when I thought about Rix, and the night Trinity was taken. My father would tell me I was being incredibly stupid. And I probably was. But as much as I wanted to spill all of the details and beg my dad for help, I couldn’t risk her safety. He’d tell me to leave the matter to the police, which was exactly what Rix had told me not to do.
Since when was I listening to Rix over my father? It was a sobering realization.
When I headed for the door, after giving hugs to both of them, my father stopped me.
“You better not be leaving without letting your old man walk you home.”
I paused with my hand on the doorknob. “It’s only a few blocks.”
“And you’re still my baby girl.” Turning, he called to my mother, “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, Jo.”
“I’ll be waiting!” she yelled back.
Chaney came bounding up as if on cue, with a look in her doggy eyes that said You’re not trying to leave without me, are you? Why would you do such a thing?
My father, used to that look, grabbed a leash off the hook by the door and clipped it to her collar. “I’m taking the dog too.”
“Okay, honey.”
The exchange was so routine and so domestic, but it knocked something loose in me. I wanted that. The routine. Walking the dog. Cooking dinner. Being part of a couple instead of always being solo.
Is Rhett the guy to give me that?
I couldn’t even consider the other man who’d barged into my life. Rix was not an option. At all. The very fact that I couldn’t tell my parents about him spoke volumes. My father would be more likely to use his connections to have him arrested than invite him to a family dinner. He was like any father, wanting what was best for his little girl, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t say Rix was that man.
As we carefully picked our way along the broken sidewalk, my father wasted no time. “So, Detective Hennessy? He’s not a guy I would’ve guessed, but I think he’s a good choice.”
Lifting my gaze from Chaney as she tugged at the leash and sniffed everything within reach, I looked at my father. “So he’s got the Harold Noble stamp of approval?”
My dad smiled. “As my daughter, whoever you pick with your superior good sense and taste will always have my stamp of approval.”
His words were pretty bold, considering he had no idea what I’d gotten myself into.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Of course.” He reached down and gripped my hand. “We just want you to be happy. That’s all we’ve ever wanted for you.”