Detective Daddy

by Jane Toombs

  They drove back to her apartment in silence.

  “Still want me to move the cradle?” he asked as he pulled up in front.

  “I suppose so.” She heard the sullen tone in her voice with dismay. But she couldn’t help it. Dan just didn’t understand.

  Inside, he deposited the baby in the crib and stood looking down at her. On the crib’s opposite side, Fay stared at her daughter.

  “She looks smaller than she did in the cradle,” he said.

  Fay nodded. “Maybe it’s too soon.”

  He shifted his gaze to look at her. “You think so.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “We’re talking about my daughter here,” she said,

  “Are we?”

  She knew they were and they weren’t. While she was still searching for words, he spoke, not to her, but to the baby.

  “Time for me to say goodbye. Keep growing, little one.” He reached down and gently ruffled the baby’s blond hair.

  “Thanks for the lunch,” he told Fay. “Don’t know when I’ll have time to stop by again.” At the door of the nursery he turned and added, “But this isn’t the last you’ll see of me.”

  Fay didn’t follow him out until she heard the front door close. Hurrying to the window, she saw his car pulling away from the curb. Damn the man.

  Every time they were together he stirred emotions in her she wasn’t ready to feel. Physically maybe, but not mentally. It was like she feared she might come to feel something more than she wanted to for that Viking who’d just left.

  Chapter Ten

  The following Monday, soon after Fay got home from work, her client called her.

  “Sorry to bother you, but something has come up that I need to discuss with you. I’d like to have input on this before I leave for New York on Wednesday. Could you come in for a few hours tomorrow? Say about ten?”

  Ordinarily she would have said yes without thinking, even though Tuesday was one of her days off, but this past week she’d been mulling over how she wanted to handle future contracts. “Could we possibly discuss this on the phone?” she asked.

  “Not really. I need you to look over some papers first.”

  “Then I’ll give you a tentative yes,” she told him. “If anything comes up to change things, I’ll let you know.”

  She sighed as she hung up, thinking she may as well face the fact that her attitude toward work was changing. Being a mother made more of a difference than she’d have believed before Danny Marie was born. She actually resented having to go to work on her day off, whereas before it rarely had fazed her. To get ahead, she had to come up with extras. Not that she’d changed her mind about getting ahead.

  High-powered.

  Dan’s comment echoed in her mind. Well, if that’s what it took, she was. It wasn’t her fault if he didn’t see it as a positive.

  The phone rang again and she frowned at it before answering. What now?

  “You may have noticed I hurried away the minute you came in,” Clara said. “I need to explain why.”

  Actually Fay hadn’t paid that much attention, but she didn’t say so.

  “I want you to know I found an old mask left over from the last time I painted my bathroom and I wore that every time I came near the baby,” Clara said.

  “Mask?” Fay asked. “What for?”

  “Right after you left for work, I started sneezing and worried I was coming down with a cold. I didn’t want to take any chances. I washed my hands every time before I touched her, too.”

  “Every sneeze isn’t a cold.”

  “I realize that, dear, but now my throat’s a little raw and my nose has begun to run. I ate lunch with my cousin on the weekend and she had a terrible cold. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but I must have caught it from her. I do hope Danny Marie won’t be affected.” Clara coughed and apologized.

  “It does sound like you’ve caught cold,” Fay agreed.

  “I hate to disrupt your schedule, but I don’t think I’d better come near the baby until I’m over this. If you like, I’ll call up a friend of mine who often sits for her grandchildren and ask her if she can take my place on Wednesday and Friday. She’s a most reliable person. You’ve met her…Yvonne Tousignant.”

  “That’s very kind of you. I do remember her. But, actually, I’d need her to come in tomorrow for a few hours as well.”

  “I’ll call Yvonne this minute and let you know if she can help,” Clara said.

  Why was it that problems always arrived one on top of another? Fay wondered while she changed into jeans and a T-shirt. If Yvonne wasn’t willing to pinch-hit for Clara, Fay would be, as her father used to say, rooky-dooed. There was no way she’d let a total stranger take care of her daughter.

  Clara called back shortly. “Yvonne will be happy to substitute for me on Wednesday and Friday, but she can’t help you out tomorrow because she has a dental appointment she doesn’t want to cancel.”

  “Thanks so much, Clara—you’re a life-saver.”

  “But what will you do about tomorrow?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Just rest and get over your cold. I’ll figure out something.”

  After mulling it over while she changed and fed Danny Marie, Fay decided that, since she was going in tomorrow at the request of the client, he’d just have to put up with her bringing the baby. She didn’t much care for the idea, but it was the only solution she could come up with.

  In the morning, the phone rang while Fay was gathering baby supplies to take with her. She snatched it up, wondering what new calamity would descend.

  “We need to talk,” Dan said. I—”

  “I can’t talk now,” Fay said. “I’m on my way to work and Clara’s sick so I have to take the baby.”

  She expected him to say something about it being Tuesday and her day off.

  Instead, he said, “I’ll be right over.”

  “I can’t wait, I have to get going.”

  “You going to make me use the siren?”

  She hadn’t realized he had a siren in his car. Envisioning him pulling up to the curb, siren screeching, which would disturb Clara, Fay sighed. “I’ll wait five minutes.”

  Dan parked in front of the house with seconds to spare. He leaped out and strode to her door. Fay opened it before he got there, dressed in a dark blue business suit. “You look very efficient,” he said, edging past her into the entry.

  She eyed him balefully. “I don’t know why you bothered to come over when I told you I had to leave.”

  “Don’t you recognize a capable baby-sitter when you see one?”

  “But, aren’t you working?”

  “Day off. Just tell me how to feed Marie and you’re outta here.”

  “I—you—”

  “Breast milk bottled in the refrigerator?” he said. “Or are you using formula when you don’t nurse her?”

  “Breast milk. I suppose it’s all right.” She sounded doubtful.

  “Think about who took care of her in the cabin.”

  She nodded. “She’ll be better off here with you than stuck in an office with me, that’s for sure. I should be back around one. Thanks, Dan. I owe you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as he watched her pick up her briefcase.

  She started for the door, turning back to say, “If you need to reach me, the number where I’ll be is on the front of the refrigerator.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

  After she left, Dan wandered into the living room and smiled when he saw the cradle in a corner, filled with stuffed animals. In the nursery, the baby lay in the crib waving her hands and making noises at a colorful mobile above her. When he came up to the crib, she focused on his face and smiled.

  Did she recognize him? he wondered, hoping she had. He had no idea how old babies had to be before they knew a familiar face from a strange one.

  Lifting her from the crib, he cradled her in one arm. “It’s your old friend, Dan,” he to
ld her, “come to take care of you again. You might not understand me, but you sure do listen.” He could hear the fondness threading through his words and decided she could, too, and that was all she needed to understand right now.

  Carrying the baby, he ambled through the apartment, studying the titles of Fay’s books, her CDs and examining the paintings hung on the walls and the photos in frames on one of the built-in shelves between the windows. One caught his attention—a little girl standing between two adults. Fay, as a child, probably with her parents. Her father, a stocky blond man was smiling down at his daughter, while her brown-haired mother gazed straight at the camera, her expression seeming to dare the picture-taker to press the button.

  He looked at the photo for a long time. From what Fay had told him about her father, he’d have expected him rather than her mother to be staring unsmiling at the camera. Still, his experience with his own parents had taught him you couldn’t ever be sure what went on in their heads. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a photo of his mother where she hadn’t been smiling. When he’d been home last Christmas, though, Megan had pointed out their mother’s smile in the pictures was often wistful. He sighed and turned away.

  There’d been no photo of any man the right age to have been Ken. Dan was surprised to feel a flash of regret that the man would never know he had a daughter, never hold her, never watch her grow. He shook his head.

  On the other hand, Dan Sorenson cared about this little girl. The weight of her warm little body against his arm and chest felt not only familiar, but right. In a way she was his. Hadn’t he helped her to be born? Wasn’t he the first person to hold her? Hadn’t she given him her first smile? Hell, he’d even changed her first wet diaper.

  Later, when he sat in the nursery rocking chair feeding the baby a bottle and humming softly, a strange feeling crept over him. Yes, Marie was his in a way, but so was her mother. He had no right to either of them, and yet…

  Damn, he was humming the “Bye Baby Bunting” song again. Didn’t he know any other lullabies?

  He burped Marie, then laid her on his knees to look at her. “Are you sleepy?” he asked. “Old Dan needs some time to put that chain on your mama’s door.” She waved her hands and kicked with her feet. “Okay, I guess that means you’re not.” He lifted her up against his shoulder and rose, intending to put on one of Fay’s CDs. He’d gotten as far as the living room when the doorbell rang.

  Once a cop, always a cop. Swinging around, he called out gruffly, “Who’s there?”

  “Hank Merriweather,” a man’s voice answered. “Who the hell are you? And where’s Fay?”

  Fay’s father? The man who disowned his granddaughter before she was born? The last Dan had heard he and Fay hadn’t reconciled, but that’d been a week ago. Without answering, he walked to the door and opened it. The stocky man from the photo, older and balding, stared back at him. Dan stood aside, offering room for Merriweather to enter.

  When the older man was inside, Dan shut the door. Merriweather continued to stare at him, obviously taken aback. On impulse, Dan held out Marie. “Your granddaughter,” he said. “Fay’s working.”

  Merriweather hesitated, then took the baby, who promptly spit up on him. To Dan’s surprise, Merriweather smiled. Ignoring the blob of milk, he said, “Fay used to do the same thing when she was a baby. Always spitting up on me, she was.” He held the baby away from him to look at her. “Must be this one takes after my daughter instead of that hockey puck. I know he’s dead, but that doesn’t make him less of a jerk.” Cuddling the baby to him, he frowned at Dan, “Who are you?”

  Dan was tempted to say, “The baby-sitter,” but, before he could speak Merriweather cut him off.

  “Wait—I’ve seen you somewhere before. A picture in a newspaper. It’ll come to me. Drugs. Cops. That’s it! You’re the hero who killed that bastard after he shot you. Your name’s Dan something. Sorenson. Dan Sorenson. How’s your leg?”

  “Pretty much back to normal,” Dan said, his negative view of the man altering slightly.

  Shifting the baby, Merriweather held out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Dan.”

  Not to shake Fay’s father’s hand would be an insult, so Dan obliged.

  “So now I know who you are,” Hank said, “but that doesn’t explain what the hell you’re doing in my daughter’s apartment.”

  “It’s a long story, Mr. Merriweather,” Dan said. “But to shorten it, I’m here today as a baby-sitter.”

  “Might as well call me Hank.” He held the baby away from him again. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she? So was Fay. Always had a mind of her own, though. So she’s working.” He shook his head. “Needs to play some is what I always told her. More to life than work. Any coffee in this place?”

  Since he could hardly throw the man out, Dan led the way to the kitchen where Hank promptly sat at the table. By the time Dan got the coffee started, Marie was beginning to fuss.

  “Maybe you better take her,” Hank said.

  Dan lifted the baby from her grandfather’s lap and carried her into the nursery where he changed her, then settled her into the crib, jiggling it a little until her eyes drooped shut.

  When he got back to the kitchen Hank had found and filled two coffee mugs. “So you’re baby-sitting,” he said. “Seems an odd chore for a cop. I got time, so you better fill me in on the long version of why.”

  Dan decided to give it to him hard and straight. “Fay left Archer, heading for her aunt in Duluth. She knew you didn’t want her to have the baby, so she wanted to be somewhere she’d feel welcome.”

  Hank grunted. “Figured that’s where she’s been. Doesn’t explain where you came from, though.”

  “Fay didn’t make it to Duluth, she got caught in a spring storm in the U.P. Meanwhile her Aunt Marie had flown to California because her daughter was in an accident.”

  “Some hodgepodge.”

  “You could say that and more. Fay ran her car into a tree in the blizzard a ways from the cabin where I’d gone to recuperate.”

  “What’s that you’re saying…cabin? Whereabouts?”

  “Nonesuch County.”

  “I’ve been hunting up there. Nothing but wilderness. You mean to tell me my little girl had to wander around in a storm in that forsaken place?”

  “By the time she found my cabin she was in labor.”

  Hank stared at him. “Good God!”

  “Pretty much what I said at the time. We were snowed in by then, no chance to get out. Then the electricity and phone line went out.”

  “You mean to say you…” Hank’s words trailed off.

  Dan shrugged. “Neither she nor I had any choice. Luckily everything turned out okay, except that Fay developed anemia.”

  “My poor little girl.” Hank blinked rapidly. “I didn’t mean to put her through all that. Didn’t mean to drive her away. Just couldn’t take to that fellow of hers and I figured it’d be too much of a burden on her to raise his kid. Always wanted the best for my daughter. How’s she doing now?”

  “My brother’s a doctor up there and I took her to him when the storm ended. He gave her what was needed and she’s fine.”

  “I guess she must be if she’s back at work. But I still don’t see why you’re here. I admit you seem to be a long sight better than dipstick ever was, but…” He paused, frowning at Dan.

  “I’m here because the baby’s regular sitter has a cold and it happened to be my day off.”

  “You don’t live here then?”

  Dan had enough of the inquisition. “If I did, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”

  Hank’s glare faded and he sighed. “Bullheaded, that’s me. I guess I turned her against me for good. Didn’t want that. One look at that little granddaughter of mine and I see I was about as wrong as a man can be.”

  “You hurt Fay.”

  Hank nodded and sighed again. Then he half smiled. “If I know my daughter, I made her mad as hops. Got a mind of her own, always did have. Think she’ll
ever forgive me?”

  Dan shrugged. “That’s up to her.” As for him, he was thawing rapidly. Hank had been wrong, now he was admitting it. His regret was clear in his actions and words. It was easy to see he really did care about Fay. Cared a lot, enough to worry that she’d gotten tangled up with another wrong man. The problem was, Hank might be right about him.

  “I left a message on Fay’s answering machine a month ago,” Hank went on, “asking her to please call me. She never did, and I figured maybe she wouldn’t talk to me on the phone, so I came over here today to apologize for what I said and find out how she was doing.

  “You know, a father can’t help trying to interfere to protect his daughter. Never liked that guy she got herself engaged to. Thought she’d come to her senses when she told me she wasn’t going to marry him, after all. Then he up and died. Figured it was all over. Wasn’t. I couldn’t stand to see her having to carry that jerk’s baby, then have to raise it all by herself… We had a big fight, she being as bullheaded as me.”

  “She does have strong opinions,” Dan admitted. “But I figure you were out of line.”

  “Yeah, like I said, I was wrong. I know I hurt her. Any idea when she’s coming home?”

  “Around one, she told me.”

  Hank looked at his watch. “Getting on for noon. Guess I’ll stay here and wait. You like pizza?” Without waiting for an answer, he reached into his pocket for a cell phone, smiling when he looked at it. “Fay gave me this Christmas before last. Told me everyone had one and she wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to be the last holdout. She always thinks I’m behind the times.” He began to punch in numbers, saying, “I know a great pizza place that delivers.”

  When he finished the order, he put away the phone and looked across the table at Dan. “Never figured I’d find a hero cop baby-sitting my daughter’s baby. But, hey, the kid’s safe with you, anyway.”

  “Always.” He wanted to add that Fay was, too, but how did he know that was the truth?

  Hank shook his head, muttering, “I can’t get over the danger she put herself in. Stubborn, that’s what she is. Always was. Could have killed herself and that baby, too. Just goes ahead and jumps into things without asking for advice.” He sighed. “Guess I’m to blame for her taking off like that, though. After what I said, I’d be the last person she’d turn to.”