“That’s ridiculous,” Hannah said. “You’ve been planning this vacation for months. Carson wants to see Mickey Mouse. After all he’s been through, he deserves a visit to Disney World. So do Ellie, Julia, and Nan. There’s no reason to let them all down. Besides, AnnaBelle and I aren’t going to do anything except take leisurely walks, watch movies, and eat pizza while you’re gone.”

He gave her a doubtful look. “Yesterday you told Brody you’d talk to the prosecutor.”

“That’ll take an hour, at best. Look, I’m still tired, but the aches and stiffness are better every day.” She wasn’t a hundred percent, but two days of rest had helped.

“You’ll keep the alarm set?”

Hannah raised her right hand. “I promise, and I know where the gun safe is.”

“All right.” Grant nodded. “Brody said he’ll be around all week.”

There was something about Brody McNamara. Something she couldn’t quite define, but when they were in the same room, she was acutely aware of him in an irritating and consistent way that made her simultaneously want to avoid—and seek—his company. So what? She was attracted to him. She could fight that off. She’d been battling her feelings her whole life, though lately, her hold on them seemed tenuous.

Her gaze drifted to the rural highway stretching out in front of the truck.

She wasn’t staying in Scarlet Falls. She’d get that clearance from the neurologist. Next week she was off to London. Royce wouldn’t need to handle the Tate deal. She’d worked for it, and she was going to make sure it was hers.

The sound of Grant shifting into park startled her. She looked through the windshield at the familiar one-story brick building of the nursing home where their father lived. Sunday afternoons were prime visiting hours, and the parking lot was full.

They went through the lobby and signed in at the reception desk. Hannah’s heart slid into overdrive. Under her silk sweater, sweat broke out at the base of her spine. The hospital smell made her queasy.

At the nurses’ station, a woman in lavender scrubs greeted them with a smile. “Good morning, Mr. Barrett.”

“Morning, Maria.” Grant introduced Hannah. “How is he today?”

Her smiled turned sad. “About the same.”

“Thanks.” With his hand on her elbow, Grant steered Hannah down a long hall covered in flat-napped gray carpet. A tiny woman hunched over a walker shuffled toward them.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henry,” Grant said.

“Morning, handsome.” She flashed him a perfect set of dentures. “Did you come to break me out of this place?”

“Name the day.” He grinned back at her.

Hannah laughed, the humor easing her nerves. They turned left into the acute-care wing. If the Colonel had been ambulatory, his dementia would have put him in the secure Alzheimer’s ward. But his physical limitations ensured he couldn’t wander.