She rolled her eyes. “Why do you have to encourage him?” she asked her father.

“He’s a growing boy. Needs his protein.”

“I hope I’m around when his metabolism slows to a crawl the way mine has.” She reached for the mail stacked on a table. “You look tired.”

“I could say the same for you, Sergeant. What kept you out all night?”

“Working the case. You know.” She glanced at him, caught a hint of something in his wise eyes. “What?”

“I can still read.”

“Oh.” She released her hair from the ponytail and combed her fingers through it in an attempt to bring some order to it. “You saw the thing in the paper. She’s looking for someone to blame.”

“What’s being done?”

She knew he meant by the department and wanting to quell his fears she told him of the meeting Farnsworth had called.

“He’ll take you off the streets. Off O’Connor until you’ve testified.”

“He’ll take me off kicking and screaming. I can’t let a useless excuse for a mother like Destiny Johnson get in the way of the job.”

“She has a lot of friends—angry friends with guns. Farnsworth won’t have any choice but to put you under protection after the threats she’s made.”

“If I go under, the case goes with me. I’ll be surprised if they haven’t already picked her up for threatening the life of a police officer.”

“No doubt, but just because she’s locked up doesn’t mean the threat’s been neutralized.”

Sam leaned over to press another kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry.”

A look of fury crossed the expressive side of his face. “You can say that to me? When I’m sitting in this chair incapable of doing a goddamned thing when the life of my daughter, my child, has been threatened by someone who has not only the will but the means to follow through? Worry is all I’ve got. Don’t take that away from me, Sam, and don’t patronize me. I expect better from you.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right.” She expelled a long deep breath as her stomachache returned with a vengeance. Navigating his new reality was a slippery slope, even almost two years later. “Of course you’re right.”

“You’re to take this seriously and do whatever you’re told by your superior officers. I’m trusting Joe to do his part, so I need your word that you’ll do yours.”

She reached for his hand and squeezed the one finger that could still feel it. “You have it.”

“Go get changed and then come down to have some breakfast.”

Because he was her dad and needed to feel like he still had control over something, she did what she was told without reminding him that she was thirty-four and didn’t have to.