Relief cascades through me. I turn to tell Livy everything’s all right and find her standing with both hands pointed rigidly at the door, a pistol clenched between them. She must have taken it from her purse.

“Whoa!” I say, holding up my hands. “I know this guy. He’s with me.”

She lowers the gun slowly, as though unsure whether to trust my judgment. I turn back to the door and open it a crack.

Daniel Kelly’s sandy blond head leans toward mine.

“I saw you go in here as I pulled up. I just wanted you to know I’m back.”

I nod. “I heard about what happened at the apartments. You must be tired. You can go ahead and get some sleep.”

“I’m fine. Wired, really.”

I hesitate to ask the next question, but I want to know. “Is Caitlin with you?”

An ironic smile, there and gone. “She’s back at the paper, writing the story. She’s a tough lady, man.”

Coming from Daniel Kelly, this is high praise indeed. “Thanks for looking out for her. And thanks again for the levee thing.”

He nods, but there’s a curious hesitancy in his face.

“What is it, Kelly?”

“Well, I thought maybe you and Caitlin were . . . you know.” He looks past me, through the crack in the door. “I guess not, huh?”

“I guess not,” I reply, feeling a strange hollowness in my chest.

He makes a clicking sound with his tongue. “I’m gonna get some eggs over at Shoney’s. One of the other guys’ll be watching this door.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and your little girl is fine. No worries.”

His words hit me like a blow. Maybe he meant for them to. My cheeks burn with self-disgust.

“ ’Night, boss,” he says, and disappears from the crack.

I shut the door and bolt it.

Livy is sitting on the bed, her face composed, the gun nowhere in evidence. Only her tousled hair hints at our brief encounter at the door.

“Why are you carrying a gun?”

She shrugs. “The town’s gone crazy, hasn’t it? And Daddy insisted.”

Leo would.

Livy’s shoes, hose, and panties lie on the floor beside her bare feet. She looks at me like she can’t understand why I’m still standing where I am. Like what happened against the door was the opening movement of a symphony.

I glance at my watch. Twelve-twenty. Annie is almost certainly asleep, but Kelly’s words have left me with a guilty longing, like an unresolved chord. I need to see my daughter sleeping.

“I need to check on Annie.”

Livy stands and takes my hand, pulls me toward her. “I know.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.” She puts her arms around my waist and pulls me against her.

“Livy—”