Remember When (In Death #17.5)(45)

"Now, is that any way to greet your dear old dad after all this time?" He opened his arms wide. "Don't I get a hug?"

There was a twinkle in his eyes, eyes as blue as her own. His hair-his pride and joy-was stoplight red and combed into a luxurious mane around his wide, cheerful face. Freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks like ginger shaken on cream.

He wore a buffalo check flannel shirt in black and red, and jeans, both of which she imagined he'd selected as a nod to the area, and both of which appeared to have been slept in. The boots he'd paired with them looked painfully new.

He cocked his head and gave her a dreamy, puppy-dog smile.

Her heart had no defense against it. She leaped into his arms, locking herself around him as he squeezed tight and spun into a few giddy circles.

"That's my girl. That's my baby. My Princess Lainie of Haraland."

With her feet still a foot off the floor, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm not six anymore, Dad. Or eight, or ten."

"Still my girl, aren't you?"

He smelled like cinnamon sticks and had the build of a Yukon grizzly. "Yes, I guess I still am." She eased back, giving his shoulders a little nudge so he'd set her down. "How did you get here?"

"Trains, planes and automobiles. With the last of it on my own two feet. It's a place you've got here, sweetie pie. Scenic. But did you notice, it's in the woods?"

It made her smile. "No kidding? Good thing I like the woods."

"Must get that from your mother. How is she?"

"She's great." Laine didn't know why it always made her feel guilty when he asked, without rancor, with sincere interest. "How long have you been here?"

"Just got in last night. Since I arrived at your woodland paradise late, figured you to be in dreamland, I let myself in. Bunked on your couch, which I should tell you is in sorry shape." He pressed a hand to his lower back. "Be a lamb, sweetie, and make your daddy some coffee."

"I was just about..." She trailed off as the reminder of coffee cleared her head. Max! "I'm not alone." Panic trickled her throat. "There's someone upstairs in the shower."

"I gathered that from the car in your drive, the fancy piece with New York plates." He chucked her under the chin. "You're going to tell me, I hope, that you had a slumber party with an out-of-town girlfriend."

"I'm twenty-eight. I graduated from slumber parties with girlfriends to having sex with men."

"Please." Jack pressed a hand to his heart. "Let's just say you had a friend spend the night. This is the sort of thing a father needs to take in stages. Coffee, darling? That's a good girl."

"All right, all right, but there are things you need to know about... my overnight guest." She got out her bag of beans, poured some into her grinder.

"I already know the most important thing. He's not good enough for my baby. Nobody could be."

"This is so complicated. He's working for Reliance Insurance."

"So, he's got a straight job, a nine-to-fiver." Jack shrugged his broad shoulders. "I can forgive that one."

"Dad-"

"And we'll talk about this young man in just a bit." He sniffed the air as she measured the coffee grounds into the filter. "Best scent in the world. While that's doing what it's doing, could you fetch me the package Willy left with you? I'll keep an eye on the pot."

She stared at him while all the thoughts, all the words, circled around in her head and coalesced into a single horrible certainty. He didn't know.

"Dad, I don't... He didn't..." She shook her head. "We'd better sit down."

"Don't tell me he hasn't been by yet." The faintest flicker of irritation crossed his face. "Man would get lost in his own bathroom without a map, but he's had more than enough time to get here. If he'd turn his damn cell phone on I'd have gotten in touch, told him there was a change in plans. I hate to tell you, Lainie, but your uncle Willy's getting old and absentminded."

No easy way, she thought as the coffee spilled into the pot. No easy way. "Dad, he's dead."

"I wouldn't go that far. Just forgetful."

"Dad." She gripped his arms, squeezing while she watched the indulgent smile fade from his face. "There was an accident. He was hit by a car. And he... he died. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"That can't be. That's a mistake."

"He came into my shop a few days ago. I didn't recognize him." She ran her hands along his arms now because they'd begun to tremble. "It's been so long, I didn't recognize him. He gave me a number, asked me to call him. I thought he had something to sell, and I was busy so I didn't pay much attention. Then he left, and just after, just seconds after, it seemed, there were these horrible sounds."

Jack's eyes were filling, and hers did the same. "Oh, Dad. It was raining, and he ran into the street. I don't know why, but he ran out, and the car couldn't stop. I ran out, and I... I realized who he was but it was too late."

"Oh God. God. God." He did sit now, lowering into a chair, dropping his head into his hands. "He can't be gone. Not Willy."