Teacup Novellas 02 - Strike the Match (11 page)

“After all these years . . .” Tyler chuckled. “Whodathunkit?”

Keri watched her father, pleased to see him relaxed and smiling again. But in the blink of an eye, something changed. He winced, taking a deep breath then slowly blowing it out.

“Dad?”

He flexed his hand, open and shut, open and shut. Then he gasped, his face contorted with pain.

“Dad! What’s wrong?” She rushed to his side, quickly placing her hand on his forehead. “You’re all clammy.”

He pulled her hand off his head then wrapped it between his own hands. “Nothing, sweetheart. Probably just indigestion.”

“Isn’t that what most people say right before they have a heart attack?”

He closed his eyes, attempting a smile. “Very funny.”

“I’m serious. Tell me what you’re feeling. Why did you flex your hand like that?”

He pulled his left hand into a fist. “I don’t know. Just a reaction, I suppose. Stop worrying. I’m fine.”

“But isn’t it the left arm that usually—”

“Keri, I’m fine. How about pouring me another glass of iced tea?”

She looked at him, studying the familiar creases in his face. There were several new ones, mostly carved by worry, she supposed. He didn’t look good. No matter what he said.

She exhaled, getting him the cold drink. “When was the last time you had a check up?”

“Well, let’s see, Nurse Nancy . . .”

“Stop. Seriously, Dad, I’m worried about you. Didn’t anyone ever tell you stress can kill?”

“Stress? What makes you think I’m under stress?”

She handed him the glass and sat on the floor at the foot his leather recliner. Flashes of dread sparked through her. Images of her father on a gurney. A monitor beeping in a hospital room. Friends gathered in a cemetery. She swallowed hard, fighting off the unbidden fears.

“Don’t tease. It’s nothing to joke about.” She took hold of his hand, leaning her cheek into his open palm. “You’re my only dad. I don’t want to lose you.”

He stroked her hair. “I’m not going anywhere, pumpkin. I’ll always be here for you.”

A tear broke free, rolling down her cheek and into his hand. He tipped her chin, turning her face toward him. “That’s a promise, okay? So no tears.”

She sniffed, then lunged into his arms. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

She clung to him for several moments. She leaned back when he began to talk.

“I’ve tried really hard, but I know I haven’t been the best father.”

“Stop. I won’t listen to that kind of talk.”

He pushed a curl from her face. “You’re so much like your mother in so many ways. Always looking out for everyone but yourself. Taking everyone else’s problems to heart.” He sighed. “I miss her so much, Keri. And I grieve every day of my life that you never had the chance to know her.”

“I know her, Dad. From the pictures. From all the memories you’ve shared with me through the years. Things Uncle Rave used to tell me. And Aunt Nita. It’s not the same, but it’s all I’ve known. You’ve been the best father a girl could ever ask for. So lose the guilt. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Is that so?” He squeezed her hand, his countenance growing serious again. “If we lose the business, how will we get you back to that fancy school of yours?”

She pressed her palm against his cheek. “Stop. Don’t even think about that now. That will all work out. Eventually. There’s no law that says I have to graduate before I’m thirty. Forty, ye. But not thirty.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t want to ruin your dreams any longer than I have to.”

“You’re not ruining my dreams! So knock it off. It’s a delay. That’s all. Enough about school, okay?”

He took a sip of his tea. “I’m just glad Grant could find some work for you. He’s a fine young man. You do a good job for him, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He tilted his head. “You could do worse, you know.”

“What do you mean? A worse job?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

She pegged him with a scrutinized stare. “Don’t go there. One matchmaker in the family is enough. Don’t you dare give me double trouble. And for the record, it ain’t happening.”

He didn’t answer, just smiled. A tired smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Keri wiped the remaining tears from her face. “We’ll get through this, Dad. Don’t you worry about me. We’ll be okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

His cell phone rang as he mussed her hair. He checked the caller I.D. “I have no idea who this is.” He clicked to receive the call anyway. “This is Tyler McMillan.”

He must have pressed speaker-phone. She could hear the anxious voice through the line. “Tyler, this is Grant Dawson. I tried to call Keri but it keeps going to voice mail.”

She reached for her cell phone. Dead. She must have forgotten to charge it.

“She’s right here—”

“No, I don’t have time. Tyler, you and Keri need to get to the hospital. My dad’s been injured. There’s been another fire.”

Chapter 9

Keri and her father rushed through the emergency room doors. They stopped at the desk, asking where they could find Grant. The receptionist said she’d let him know they were here.

“Tyler! Keri! I came as soon as I heard!” Nita rushed to their side, unwrapping the knitted scarf from her neck. “Is it true? Was Shep blown out of the building?”

“What?” Keri gasped. “Where did you hear that? He was
blown
from a building?”

“There you are,” Grant called out, approaching them. “Thanks for coming.”

Nita grabbed him in a bear hug. “Oh honey, how’s your daddy? Is he okay?”

“We don’t know yet. He’s still unconscious.”

Nita buried her head against his shoulder. “Oh, that dear old man!” Her shoulders shook as she began to sob. “I was so ugly and impatient with him today and all but shooed him away like nothing more than a pesky mosquito. And now he’s lying in there at death’s door.” Another sob.

“Nita, we don’t know that,” Grant said, trying to calm her.

Keri and her father exchanged glances at Nita’s unexpected reaction, along with a very surprised Grant Dawson. Grant held her at arm’s length. “Now Nita, why are you so—”

“I’ll never forgive myself if he . . . if he should—”

“What happened?” Keri interrupted, turning toward Grant. “Aunt Nita said he was blown from a building?”

Grant raked his hand through his hair. “That’s right. There was a fire at the newspaper office. Bud said Dad placed a 911 call to report a small blaze in the back room near the press. Apparently there was some kind of explosion by the time Bill and his crew got there. They’re guessing the fire reached some of the chemicals in there. They found him lying in the grass several yards from the building.”

Nita wailed, falling into her brother’s arms. Keri couldn’t figure out why she was carrying on to such an extreme, but there were too many other pressing questions. “What was Shep doing at your office this time of night?”

Grant shook his head. “I have no idea. I’d left the office earlier, ran a couple of errands before heading out to his place. We were supposed to play some chess tonight. I assumed he was home. I was almost to the marina when I got the call from Bill.”

“Oh my dear Lord.”

All eyes turned to Nita.

“He must have stayed at the tree lot,” she croaked.

Grant placed a hand at her elbow. “What in the world was Dad doing at the tree lot?”

Nita’s chin trembled, tears spilled down her cheeks. “It’s all my fault. He kept showing up, day after day. I never could get him to spill the beans, explain why he kept hanging around. Then, before I knew it, I heard myself inviting him to help out this year. You know, volunteer along with the rest of us selling trees.”

“My dad?”
Grant scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? He’s not a people person. That’s the last place he’d want to be.”

The puzzle pieces suddenly fell in place in Keri’s mind. The time she’d caught Shep staring at Nita over his coffee mug that morning at Chandler’s. Nita mentioning how Shep kept showing up at the tree lot. Shep, who rarely ever came to town. Could it be those “romantic musings” she and her father had voiced earlier tonight at dinner had been right on the mark?

Apparently so.

Shep Dawson had a thing for Aunt Nita.

What d’you know?

“I know, Grant,” Nita whispered. “But he seemed very pleased I’d asked. It shocked me too. In fact, he was still there when I left tonight. I’d stopped by the lot after dinner to make sure things were okay. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. Not saying much, of course.” Her chin wobbled again. “He’s a man of few words, that father of yours.”

Grant rubbed his face. “That’s an understatement. So you think he just happened to drive by the office on his way home and perhaps spotted the blaze?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Nita said before blowing her nose.

“What has the doctor said?” Tyler asked.

“Not much. Until Dad comes around, there’s not a lot they can do. Thankfully, he wasn’t burned. Bill seemed to think that explosion may have actually saved his life, blowing him clear of the fire. And believe it or not, he doesn’t seem to have any broken bones. Though I’m sure he’ll be awfully sore and bruised.”

“Is there anything you need?” Keri asked. She had the strangest urge to give him a hug, even though it seemed totally inappropriate. He was her boss, after all. Still, she wished there was something she could do to ease the worry etched on his face.

“Actually, there is. Would you mind checking back with Bill and see what he’s found out? His guys got the fire out relatively fast. Still, it occurs to me that two fires in less than two weeks in our little town . . . well, something stinks. And it’s not just the smoke.”

Keri nodded. “Sure. I’ll run over to the station and talk to him.”

He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “We need to narrow that list of yours. Help me find who did this, Keri.”

Her heart pounded. Whether it was his nearness, the warmth of his breath on her ear, or the emotion in his request, she couldn’t be sure. Suddenly she embraced him, wishing she could take away his pain. “Go take care of your father. We’ll find whoever did this. I promise.”

He pulled back, searching her eyes. Then he turned and slowly walked down the hall.

“Well, sir . . .”

“Dad!” Grant stifled the sob caught in his throat as relief flooded over him. He leaned over, hugging his father. “Thank God! Are you okay? You gave us quite a scare last night.”

Shep struggled to swallow then looked around. “Hospital?”

“Yes. Do you know how you got here? Do you remember what happened?”

His father closed his eyes. For a moment, Grant thought he’d drifted back asleep.

“Fire.”

A second wave of relief fell over Grant.
He’s cognizant. He’s okay.
“Yes. There was a fire at the office.”

Silence.

“Dad, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Don’t feel okay.”

Grant smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You just need to take it easy for a while.”

A page sounded out in the hall summoning assistance STAT.

“Truck.”

He could barely hear his father’s voice. “What’s that? Did you see a truck?”

Shep nodded, his eyes still closed. “Dark out. Hard to see.”

“Could you tell if it was a pickup? Or some kind of delivery van? Something bigger?”

“Pickup. Dark.”

Grant tried to think, tried to remember who drove pickups, but the information wouldn’t present itself. He’d almost lost his father. His only living relative. The investigation could wait. At least for now.

Nita appeared at the door. “They told me I could come back for a few moments. Is that okay?” She looked beyond Grant to see Shep. “Oh Shep, you’re alive!” she whimpered, approaching the side of his bed. “You poor dear man. I’m so,
so
sorry.”

Grant watched her lift his father’s bandaged hand to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss on it. He stretched for a better view of his dad, curious at his reaction. Shep grinned from ear to ear as if he’d just won the lottery.

If I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it. Son of a gun.

As Nita’s soft cries continued, he thought for sure Shep would say something.

Not a word. He just lay there, like a star-struck teenager meeting his favorite movie star for the first time.

“You okay, Nita?” Grant asked.

She quickly composed herself, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’m fine, honey. I’m just so glad he’s all right.” Her shoulders slowly began to shudder again as she fell apart again.

He watched as his father’s hand slowly reached for Nita’s. She looked down at him, obviously surprised by the gesture.

But nowhere
near
as surprised as Grant.

Grant backed toward the door. “I think I’ll . . .” Words failed him as he watched Nita lean over and plant a long, gentle kiss on his father’s brow.

He slipped out the door, mumbling. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be the one roaming the hall . . . in search of some electric shock . . . since I’m clearly the one here who’s delirious.”

Chapter 10