Protection Detail. Julie Miller

you should.” Although it burned in his gullet to let someone else take charge of his father, to take charge of the entire room, Thomas retreated another step as Jane turned to the silver-haired woman still clutching her hands and keeping her distance on the opposite side of the table. “Millie, would you see if you can get Stephanie to come back? Tell her Seamus is feeling more cooperative now.”

      The older woman seemed relieved to have a task to perform. “Of course.”

      Once the office door at the end of the room had closed behind the Watsons’ longtime housekeeper, Jane moved behind Seamus’s chair, squaring it in front of the table. She squeezed his shoulder before moving around him to straighten the therapy items on the table. “You should apologize to Millie, too, for using language like that. And your son. And me. I thought you were this infamous Irish charmer who had a way with the ladies. Did you think you were working the streets again? That Stephanie was some perp avoiding arrest you had to yell at?” Thomas propped his hands at his waist, letting his fingers settle near the gun and badge he’d worn on the belt of his jeans every day since his family had been attacked at Olivia’s wedding, even on days like this when he wasn’t teaching a seminar at the police academy or assisting with an investigation at precinct headquarters. He shook his head as Jane worked her magic on his father. She was tough, almost abrasive at times. But he had to give the woman props for earning his dad’s—and his—respect. She understood the way a family of law enforcement professionals worked, the sense of duty that ran through their veins, and often used Seamus’s career with KCPD as a motivator. “I’m not happy to have all my hard work be for nothing when we come to see Dr. Koelus.” She softened her tone as she slipped into the chair on the opposite side of the table. “I bet you’re not happy, either.”

      “I walked,” Seamus reminded her. “Koelus ted I could get rid of de walker and use my cane. I did de finger eckertises. I’m better.”

      “Yes, you are. And those are wonderful accomplishments you should be proud of. But if you want that peach cobbler at the restaurant for dessert, then you’re either going to have to do another half mile on the treadmill with me when we get home, or you’re going to have to apologize to Stephanie and repeat the vocal exercises one more time.”

      Seamus pointed a bony finger at her. “Dat’s bwackmail.”

      “Yes, it is.” Jane waited a couple of beats before smiling. “Is it working?”

      The undamaged corner of Seamus’s mouth crooked up in an answering smile.

      Thomas hid his own grin. That woman had his father’s number. She might challenge his own authority and rub him the wrong way at times, but she certainly knew the right mix of tough love, teasing and unflinching faith in her patient that Seamus had been responding to for months now.

      A moment later, Millie returned with the speech therapist. The young woman’s eyes and nose were red from crying, but she smiled to the woman who was old enough to be her grandmother. “Thank you.”

      Millie had probably given her a pep talk. The older woman’s smile faded when she chided Seamus. “Now you be nice to her.”

      Millie tried to back away from the table, but Seamus snagged her hand. “I’m torry, my ol’ friend. It been long time tince you heard lang-ege like dat.” He struggled to spit the words out, even growling with frustration, just as he had a moment before losing his temper. With a glance at Jane, as if seeking her approval, he folded his weaker hand around Millie’s fingers, too. “I raise my boy and grand-tons to be gentlemen. I chould be, too.”

      Twin dots of pink colored Millie’s cheeks and her smile reappeared. “It’s all right, Seamus. They weren’t any words I hadn’t heard before.”

      “I chouldn’t have taid to you. You lady.” He released her hand and tapped his chest. “Better man dan dat.”

      “I know you are.” To Thomas’s surprise, Millie leaned down and kissed his cheek. Seamus’s face was as rosy as hers as Millie picked up her purse from a nearby chair and bustled off to the hallway. “I’m going to find the ladies’ room. Excuse me.”

      The hallway door was swinging shut before the blush left Seamus’s cheeks. He turned to the intern, raising a snowy white eyebrow in a shrug of apology. “Tefanie? Forgive a fwustwated ol’ man. I have college degree and worked long time with public. Front dek at KT...KCPD. But I tound like baby now. Embarashes me.” Jane winked encouragement as she gave up the chair and moved toward Thomas. “I twy again.”

      Stephanie sat and picked up flash cards again. “Thank you for saying that. You were so sweet with me last time—I guess it surprised me when you got so upset. I will say that you articulated each and every one of those cuss words very clearly.” Seamus grinned at her teasing and shook his head. “I’m sorry I ran out on you. I can’t be anywhere near as tired as you must be. We’ll skip the tongue exercises this time and just do the reading so I have a score to report to Dr. Koelus.”

      Thomas heard the buzz of the cell phone vibrating in Jane’s pocket. Again? That was the fourth text she’d gotten since they’d arrived at the hospital, and she’d ducked out of the evaluation sessions with Dr. Koelus and the physical therapists marking the monthly progress in Seamus’s recovery each time. Jane pulled her phone from the pocket of her scrub jacket and read the message. Her forehead knit deeply enough to make a dimple between her brows before she straightened and headed for the door. “Excuse me.”

      Thomas made sure his dad would be on his best behavior before he caught the swinging door and followed Jane into the hallway to find her furiously typing away on her cell. “You can’t let your boyfriend wait for a few more minutes until we’re done here?”

      “My boyfriend?” Jane stopped with her thumb hovering over the screen. “I haven’t been with anyone since my...” When Thomas moved around her to clear the hallway for a doctor and his assistant walking past with some diagnostic equipment, she punched a button and cleared the screen, hiding both the message and her reply from him. “It’s none of your business. This is personal.”

      “Not when you’re on the clock with Dad and me.”

      Her mouth opened with a retort, but snapped shut just as quickly when she saw the custodian with his mop and cart stepping off the elevator at the end of the hall, along with a family walking out with a teenager who was on crutches. She crossed the tile floor to look out the bank of windows overlooking the parking lot below them, avoiding him. Or... Hell. Was she scanning the lot? Looking for a particular vehicle or person? And now he realized she’d scoped out the face of every person who’d gotten off that elevator.

      He knew the woman was a runner. From her job application, he knew Jane was thirty-eight, but she worked out and kept in shape like a woman half her age. She probably had to in order to keep up with headstrong patients like his father. He couldn’t be the only man in Kansas City noticing her. She didn’t wear a ring. So if there wasn’t a current boyfriend, there had to be an ex.

      A gut-check transformed his irritation into concern. Maybe that was the explanation—the calls, the texts, the dimpled brow. Maybe this was some type of harassment campaign. Could be the messages were more than a distraction from her job—maybe she was in some kind of trouble that could explain being so upset one moment, defensive the next, and guarded as she watched the people below in the parking lot. Thomas crossed the hallway. Since the woman didn’t talk about herself much beyond family recipes she shared with Millie and her medical training, he had to ask. “Did you two have a fight?”

      Jane startled at the sound of his voice at her shoulder. “No.”

      Thomas stepped up beside her and looked into the parking lot, scanning for anything that looked out of place. “So he is your boyfriend.”

      Her ponytail bounced as she whipped her face up to his. “Don’t play your interrogation games on me, Detective. I work for you. I’m too old to be your daughter and I’m sure not your wife. You don’t have to know about my personal life.”

      “I do when it interferes with your