Always Watching (6 page)

“It wasn't something you needed to worry about.”

Amy's shoulders slumped. Everyone was always concerned about her anxiety issues. She was so tired of being afraid and anxious, but was even more tired of everyone's need to protect her from
everything
. She straightened her shoulders and planted her hands on her hips. “You could have told me.”

“Would it help anything to know?”

“Maybe.”

The cute detective came over before Pops could answer. Which was probably a good thing. “Dr. Savage has given us permission to speak to his daughter.”

“About what?” Her grandfather stood straight and threw his shoulders back, turning his glare from Amy to the officer. Pops was only fifty-four years old and most people thought he had military training. He didn't, but his father had been in the navy, and Pops had grown up to adopt his military bearing and attitude.

“About whether she's seen or noticed anyone—women in particular—watching her father when they've been together.” He turned his gaze on her and Amy blinked at the dark blue of his eyes. They reminded her of the deep-blue sapphire stones in the necklace that used to belong to her grandmother. The one she'd worn to the Academy Awards back in the late seventies when she'd been a famous actress.

She rolled her eyes at the detective. “Women look at my dad all the time. And watch him too. Frankly, I think it's super ridiculous.”

“Amy—?” Her father cocked his head, surprise raising his brows. Then he narrowed his eyes and studied her as though wondering who she was and what had happened to his real daughter. She shrugged.

Then he did that thing with his eyes that meant he really didn't want to be pushed.

And she didn't want to lose her cell phone—or have Stacy taken home. She sighed. “But if you mean someone looking like a stalker, then no. I don't think so. Then again I haven't exactly been
looking
for that either, since no one thought it important enough to tell me about.” Her throat tightened. She swallowed. Her father's raised eyebrows made her snap her lips together. She couldn't believe the words coming from her mouth. She never said stuff like that. But this was her
dad.
And he might be in
danger
.

She took a deep breath and noticed the tightness in her chest had eased. It was actually almost gone. Her grandfather had a glint in his eyes. Almost as though he was proud of her? She shrugged, enjoying the moment. Then looked back at her father and the officers. She ducked her head, the anxiety returning full force. “Can we go to my room?”

The detective laid a hand on her shoulder and she looked up. His eyes didn't look so hard now. “Sure, go ahead. But we could use your help if you're up to it.”

Up to it? “My help?”

“Keep your eyes open and watch your father's back when you can, okay?” He handed her a card. “And if you see anything or anyone you don't like, call me.”

Amy caught her jaw before it dropped. He actually thought she could be helpful? She gave a slow nod. “Okay. I can do that.”

He winked at her and nodded. “I thought you could.”

With Stacy on her heels, she bolted for the stairs and took
them two at a time. She needed her safe place. A place where the attacks would fade and she could think. Try to wrap her mind around the fact that her father had a stalker.

Her thoughts raced and plans formed. Maybe she could find a way to spy on her dad, definitely watch his back, but see if someone else was watching it too. The very idea of her father having a stalker terrified her. She'd already lost her mother. And while she didn't remember her, she'd felt the hole her absence had left her entire life.

Amy sank onto her bed and buried her eyes against her knees.

“You all right?” Stacy asked. Her friend laid a hand on her back.

Amy looked up. “What would happen to me if something happened to my dad?”

“Nothing's going to happen to him. And besides, you'd be fine. You have your aunt and your grandfather.”

Amy sighed. “You're missing the point. I don't want anything to happen to my dad. They were hiding something from me. They didn't want me to see what they were looking at on the porch.”

“So? Maybe it's better not to know.”

“Better for you maybe. But I want to know.”

The house echoed around him, the silence deafening after the chaos of the police in every nook and cranny of his home.

He walked to the couch and sank onto the leather cushions. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Fatigue washed over him. What was he going to do about this stalker? A stalker who knew he had a daughter and what size jersey she would wear.

Someone who wanted an apology from him. Would he do it? Actually go on the air and issue an apology? He considered his options. Apologizing to her would mean giving her power. Reinforcing her actions. Not apologizing meant antagonizing her, pushing buttons he might not want to push.
God, tell
me what to do, please.

Footsteps pulled his gaze to the den's entrance. Amy's slender form came toward him and he held out an arm. She slipped under it and leaned her head against him.

“Are you going to be all right?” she asked.

“I am. And so are you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive.”

She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “You can't be absolutely positive.”

“Why not?”

“Because Pops says only God knows the future.”

“Well, I guess I can't argue with Pops on that. How about 99 percent sure?”

“Where do you get your statistics from? Last year my math teacher said you better not throw out statistics unless you have the data to back it up.”

He groaned. “Look, Amy, I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what the next thirty minutes might bring, but I'm not going to let it get the best of me.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “How do you do that?” she whispered. “It always gets the best of me.”

“What about using your coping skills?”

“Sometimes they don't work.”

He kissed the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her strawberry shampoo. “Do you want to say it together?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “‘Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.'” Their voices echoed in the room. He tilted her chin up and looked her in the eye. “Keep saying it, honey—and keep believing it. God's watching over you.”

“And you.”

He hugged her. “That's right. And me.”

They sat there a few minutes before Amy squirmed against him. “I'm in that play Sunday. You're going to come watch me, right?”

“Wouldn't miss it.”

She paused and fidgeted some more, looked up at him, then away.

“What is it?” he asked.

She bit her lip, then pushed it out. Finally, she sighed. “I'm scared about getting up in front of everyone. Practicing with my friends is a lot different than having a bunch of parents watching.”

“Well, I can see how that might make you a little nervous, but you've done great during practice. You've worked really hard and are about to see the results of that.”

“I know, but it's still scary. I don't think I want to do it. It's a small part anyway. No one would even notice if I didn't do it.”

Wade struggled to find the right words. The wrong ones could send her into a panic attack. He wouldn't insist she do the play, but he could encourage her to. “I think that if you don't do it, you'll regret it.”

“Why?”

“Because you've worked really hard. If you quit now, you'll be mad at yourself for not finishing something you started.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever quit something?”

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

He blew out a breath, then kissed the top of her head. “Like, I wanted to play for the high school baseball team and I worked really hard, practicing, hitting balls, playing catch with my dad and anyone who'd throw me a ball. I did that right up until the day of the tryouts.” He paused and Amy leaned forward, intently listening. “The time to try out came and I was watching the other boys practice out on the field. They all seemed so good. I didn't think I was good enough to play, so I didn't try out. I went home instead.”

“And you regret it?”

“Very much so, because now I'll never know if I could have
made the team or not. I had a lot of friends on the team and missed out on being a part of it.” He hugged her. “I just don't want you to miss out or feel that way.”

Amy fell silent, staring over his shoulder at nothing, but he could see her processing his words. “You never told me that,” she finally said.

“I know. It's not something I like to think about very often.”

She nodded, then cut her eyes at him. “So this is, like, a teachable moment, huh?”

He gave a short laugh. “I guess you could call it that.”

Her lips twitched and he wondered at the sly look in her eyes. “So maybe I should just not do the play, then I'll have a teachable moment for my kid one day.”

Wade blinked, then laughed. Out loud. “Amy Rene Savage, you crack me up. No, you should not be thinking of using this as a teachable moment for your kid. Trust me, you'll have plenty by the time you have children.”

She grinned at him, then tilted her head. “I'll think about doing the play. One more question.”

“What?”

All levity faded. “Do you ever think about her?” she asked.

Justine. He knew who Amy meant. The only woman since his wife's death who had captured his interest if not necessarily his heart. And then she'd died too, and his world had been shattered once again. Wade's throat tightened. “Yes.”

“I do too. I miss her.”

“I know you do.”

“Do you still love her?”

Oh boy. How did he answer that question? Lie? No. Definitely not. “Justine was a good friend, Amy. She understood me—actually we understood each other—and she was crazy about you.”

“But you were going to marry her so you must have loved her.”

He frowned at her. “What?”

“I heard you talking about it a couple months before she died. She mentioned you two getting married. You said you thought it might be a good idea. Justine left and you looked confused, so I didn't say anything about it. So? Would you have married her if she hadn't died?”

“Maybe.” He cleared the lump from his throat. “I was thinking about it.”

“Even though you didn't love her?”

He gave a silent groan. “I did love her in a way. I loved her as a friend, someone I enjoyed being with, spending time with. I thought that might be enough.” He'd married for love once upon a time and that had turned into a disaster. He'd figured why set himself up for more of the same? He decided to keep those thoughts to himself, but he knew that he'd been protecting his heart against the possibility of Justine leaving him like his first wife had. At least that was the conclusion he'd come to during many sleepless nights after her death. Now he was just filled with regrets. Justine had deserved better than that. Heck, he and Amy deserved better.

“Why did you think that would be enough?” she pressed.

He sighed. He had no idea how to explain his relationship to Justine to his closest male friend, much less his almost teenage daughter. “I just did.”

“You're weird, Dad.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I want to marry someone I'm madly and passionately in love with.” She clasped her hands to her chest, gave a dramatic sigh, and closed her eyes.

He lifted a brow. “What do you know about being in love?” He left madly and passionately out of it. Her definition of
those two words in the same sentence probably varied greatly from his.
Please, God.
Nope, he wasn't touching that one. Yet. Maybe ever. A pang hit him. These kinds of conversations made him long for a woman who could talk to Amy. Martha loved her niece, spent a lot of time with her, but he knew it wasn't the same as having a mother. Someone her dad was married to.

Amy opened her eyes and shrugged. “Nothing much, Dad. I'm only twelve, almost thirteen. I just know I'm going to marry someone who doesn't mind holding my hand when I have a panic attack.”

“Maybe you won't have them by then.”

“Maybe.”

He heard more footsteps and drew in a slow breath of relief at the distraction. Stacy entered the room and paused, her gaze jumping between him and Amy. He could read her easily. She desperately wanted to join them, but didn't want to intrude.

Wade patted the sofa beside him and she grinned and raced across the room to settle herself next to him. She leaned her head against his arm. “I wish you were my dad, Mr. Wade.”

His heart constricted. “I wish I was too, Stacy. You're a great kid. Any man would be lucky to be your dad.”

“Ha. Too bad my real dad didn't think so.” Stacy's father had left her and her mother three years ago and had dropped out of sight. Wade knew Stacy wanted a father but figured she was better off without that particular man around.

“Yeah, that's tough and it stinks. Your mother is a great lady,” he said. “Maybe she'll find someone you wouldn't mind calling ‘Dad.'”

Stacy shrugged her thin shoulder. “I don't know.” She cut her eyes at him. “She says she'll only get married again if she can find someone like you.”

Wade felt his ears start to burn but gave a low chuckle. “Well, I'll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. She listens to your show every weekend and she said every woman should listen and take your advice.”

“That's very kind of her.”

“I guess. You should call her and ask her out.”

Amy shot into a sitting position. “Yeah, Dad, you should, then me and Stacy would be sisters if you married her mom.”

“Stacy and I,” he corrected. “And you two quit trying to marry me off. I'm perfectly capable of finding a wife should I decide I want one.” He gave each girl a rib tickle and delighted in their screeches of laughter. “Get out of here. I'll come up and tell you good night in a few minutes.”

Stacy giggled and stood. “I'm going upstairs to watch TV. You ready, Amy?”

Amy nodded. “I'm ready. Forget TV. Let's go figure out how to get our parents together.”

Wade rolled his eyes and decided he'd better prepare himself for some adolescent matchmaking attempts. The thought made him shudder. And saddened him. He'd hoped having Martha around would dull the ache that an absent mother had caused his daughter.

Six years ago, he'd mentioned to Amy he was going to start interviewing women for a nanny position. An hour later, Martha had come to him and stated no strange woman was going to raise her niece as long as there was breath in her body. He'd agreed and they'd worked up a nice arrangement that benefited them both. She'd been miserable in her job as head of public relations for the local hospital and had wanted a way out. He gave it to her.

The fatigue hit him again and he closed his eyes, his mind spinning. He had the radio show, then tomorrow—

A hand on his shoulder jerked him awake. He opened his eyes and stared into his sister-in-law's frowning face. “Are you all right, Wade?”

He sniffed and scrubbed a hand down his cheek. “Yeah. I guess I dozed off. What time is it?”

“About eleven fifteen.”

He jumped to his feet and headed in the direction of his bedroom. “I've got to get going. I need to be on the air in forty-five minutes.”

“You think it's safe?”

He stopped at the door and turned. “I don't know, Martha. I have a bodyguard so maybe—” He shrugged. “I'm not going to cower or hide or run.”

“What about Amy?”

He sighed and dropped his chin to his chest, taking a moment to think. When he raised his head, he studied his sister-in-law. “You know I'll do whatever I have to do to keep Amy safe. Even if that means sending her away somewhere. But I won't let this person dictate my life.”

Martha nodded. “I understand. Even admire that. I don't think you should run away, but I do think you need to be smart.”

“And I will be.”

“Amy would be devastated if something happened to you,” she said softly. “And I would too. You and Amy have been my family for a long time now.”

He sighed. She was right, of course. “I know. I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done for us. Thank you for being here.”

Martha shrugged. “Of course. Like I said, you're family.” She shook her head. “I adore Amy, you know that.”

Remorse filled him. “I fell asleep and didn't tell her good night.”

“I think she'll understand. When I last checked on them, she and Stacy were upstairs plotting your marriage to Stacy's mother.” He groaned. Martha laughed. “Apparently the woman is quite . . . um . . .
taken
with you.”

“Oh stop.”

She snickered again, then turned serious. “Do you think you'll ever be ready to marry again?”

He shrugged. “I doubt it. After Justine . . .” He blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. He absently noted he needed a haircut. “I have no plans to do so.”

She lifted a brow and gave him a sad look. “That's a shame. Then again, plans can change when the right person comes along.” He stayed quiet and she grimaced. “Sorry, it's none of my business.”

“Hey, if it's anyone's business, it's yours.” He crossed the room and hugged her. “You've been a rock for me and I appreciate it, but let's leave my love life out of things.”

“Or the lack thereof?”

“Exactly.”

“Works for me.”

“Good.” He gave her a half grin. “So how's your love life?”

She lifted her nose and gave him a haughty stare. “None of your business.”

He glanced at his watch. “I need to get to the station. Where's Olivia?”

“In the kitchen on the phone with someone. Thought I heard her ask about someone named Maddy.”