Man of His Word. Cynthia Reese
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Daniel and the lieutenant came out to join them in the reception area, the door locking shut behind them. Daniel smiled warmly at Marissa, but was it a little forced when he turned to Kimberly?
“Marissa, I’ve got orders from Ma to ferry you out to the farm. Ready to roll? Bobbi’s waiting for us in the truck. You remember her, right?”
And with nothing more than a casual wave goodbye to Kimberly, Marissa trooped out the open door that Daniel held for her.
He must have sensed Kimberly’s momentary panic, because he stopped, gave her a nod and said, “She couldn’t be in better hands. Ma raised six of us to be tax-paying productive citizens, and all in one piece. She’s got this. But you can call anytime—me or Ma—if you’re worried.”
Kimberly drew in a calming breath and reminded herself not to be a complete mess when it came to Marissa. “Thanks, I appreciate you taking her out there and, er, giving Lieutenant Clarke here my bona fides. As for Marissa—” Kimberly even managed a joke “—relax, Daniel. That’s the breeze outside you feel, not my rotor wash.”
He chuckled. “I like that. Gotta go grab these veggies if I’m going to con some of my firefighters to help me cook them and actually eat them.”
With that, he was gone, and suddenly the space reverted back to its bare sterility.
She shook herself to get rid of the empty feeling that washed over her. Well, she wasn’t here for Daniel. She was here on a mission. She was here for Marissa. She turned to the detective. “How about that cup of coffee, Lieutenant?” she asked.
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