“I’m coming!” she calls out. She yanks on an old pair of pajamas, and then wraps herself in a thick robe. She glances at me as she reaches for her glasses. “I have company, Father!” she yells, only to quiet when she speaks to me. “Please come out when you’re dressed.”
She swiftly and silently gathers our trash, our empty cups, and the condoms scattered around the floor, shoving them into the paper bags of takeout.
Something isn’t right here. From the first knock, till now, she’s lost all the color in her face. I clasp her elbow. “What’s wrong?”
She’s on the verge of tears. “We don’t have a good relationship,” she admits.
“You and your dad?”
She grips the bag against her as if it can somehow protect her. I release her, mostly because something about holding her in place seems wrong now.
“I’m sorry,” she says. She hurries into the living area, shutting the door behind her.
I finish dressing as every curse word I know bounces around in my skull. Something is definitely up, but as I hear her fumbling around in the kitchen, I know it’s not a good time to ask. We’ll talk later. For now, all I can do is grab the two condoms she missed and toss them in the bathroom trash.
I stomp out of the bedroom door and shove my way into my leather jacket. Tess reaches the front door when I’m only a few feet behind her. Her dress, the one I ripped off, is gone. So is any and all evidence of our night.
I prowl closer, watching her shoulders tighten when she senses me behind her. She doesn’t want me next to her, but damn it all, no way am I keeping my distance when she’s this rattled. She needs me now, whether she’ll admit it or not.
She takes a breath and throws open the door. Call me crazy, but the old fart doesn’t seem happy to see me. “Who’s this?” he demands.
My brows knit tight. “I could ask you the same thing, sir.” I look at Tess, then flash him my badge. “Is he on your approved visitors list, ma’am?”
“Approved visitors list?” she repeats, slowly, realizing where I’m headed. “I apologize. I didn’t realize I’m supposed to have one. I don’t have many visitors.” She motions to her dad. “This is my father, Donald Newart.”
I lean back on my heels. She seems to think he doesn’t recognize me. I’m thinking she’s right. So I stay in cop mode, even though every part of me wants to ask him what he did to his daughter to make her this nervous. She’s twenty-four, not some teen who snuck in her boyfriend. Yeah, I get that it’s awkward. But the way Tess is acting, the way she looks, she’s scared out of her mind. “If he visits often, you should include him on the list to prevent another incident.”
“He doesn’t visit often—”
“I can visit anytime I want,” he snaps. “I pay for this apartment.”
His reprimanding glare fixes on Tess. She stands unmoving, appearing to crawl inward. This isn’t the first time he’s spoken to her this way, and Mother above, I could tear out his spine for how he makes her react.
I can’t keep the snarl out of my tone. “Do you also pay for her utilities—water, electricity, heat?”
He raises his chin. For a skinny chicken-neck bastard he’s not afraid of me. But he should be. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I do.”
“Then can you explain why her heat was turned off a few weeks ago?”
This time his anger’s directed at me. Good, keep it there, asshole. I can take it. “It was cold enough to hang meat in here,” I tell him, keeping my voice sharp. “I had to call the super to make sure it was put back on.”
Newart doesn’t even blink. “Perhaps it was an oversight.”
My stare drills into his. “Let’s hope it was. You see, Miss Newart is helping the DA’s office with an important case. One that requires police surveillance for her protection.”
He huffs, taking her in. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then why would I be here?” I counter.