11. Cami
Cami
I jolt awake when the phone in my hand rings. Sitting up I hit accept before the noise wakes the girl sleeping upstairs.
“Hello?” My voice is croaky, raspy from sleep.
“Cami?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat as quietly as I can.
“What happened? Where’s Whit?”
“She’s asleep.” My gaze flashes to the stairs. “She’s fine, like I said in my message.”
“Then why are you at my house and why isn’t she staying with Mrs. Gerber?”
“Hang on. Let me go into the garage.”
“Why are you going into the garage?”
“So you don’t wake Whitney up with your yelling,” I snap. The man’s voice can be heard without me holding the phone to my ear.
“Oh, sorry. I’m worried.”
“I understand that. But I promise you, there’s no need for immediate concern.”
“That sounds like I should be concerned though.”
“I think so. Maybe. I’m not sure. It’s why I want to talk to you about it. Explain why I’m sleeping on the couch in your house. ”
“Why are you sleeping on the couch? There’s a perfectly good bed upstairs.”
“The only bed beside Whitney’s is yours and I wasn’t about to impose by sleeping there.”
“Well, you should. I don’t want you uncomfortable while you watch over Whit. I give you permission to sleep in my bed. After you tell me what the fuck is going on.”
I can’t blame him for yelling. And I need to tell him what happened to relieve his mind as quickly as I can. Pulling open the door into the garage, I step through and close it quietly behind me. “Okay, I’m in the garage, we shouldn’t wake Whitney up now.”
“You said she’s okay?”
“She is. More than okay. But then she doesn’t know everything, and I haven’t told her because I wanted to speak to you first.”
“Jesus, get on with it, you’re not building confidence with this roundabout way of telling me what happened.”
“Sorry, sorry, I’m half asleep. Okay, I’ll start at the beginning—try not to interrupt until I’m done.”
“Go.”
I don’t point out his directive is an interruption. “This afternoon I got a call from the principal of Whitney’s school, I can’t remember his name?—”
“Dalton. It’s William Dalton.”
I frown at his lack of silence but choose to keep going. “Anyway, he was calling on behalf of Whitney because her phone was dead and she needed someone to come get her becau?—”
“What’s wrong with her car?”
A grumble of disapproval rattles in my throat. “I’m getting to that,” I say tersely.
“Sorry. Go on.”
“She has two flat tires?—”
“Two? How the hell did that happened?”
“Beckett, I understand that you’re concerned for your daughter and if I didn’t think it would wake her up, I’d go upstairs and take a picture of her sleeping soundly in her own bed, not a scratch on her.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll wait until you’re finished.”
“Right. When she came out of school this afternoon, she discovered she had a flat tire. Not a minute later the principal walked up and offered to help her change it. The problem they found when they went to retrieve the jack and spare from her trunk was that the opposite tire on her car was also flat.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yes. That was my thought when I arrived but let me tell you the rest first. So the principal suggested she get the car towed and call someone to come get her except when she pulled her phone out, her battery was dead. The principal offered to make the call for her. Luckily, Oakley saw fit to give her a list of numbers to call if she ever couldn’t get hold of you. Hers, Nat’s, Blake’s, and mine are top of that list. Unfortunately, the other three are away with you so they called me.”
“Thank you.”
I pause, the genuineness in his voice making me forget the interruption. “You’re welcome. Anyway, when I got to the school and saw her car, I was puzzled by the two flat tires. Didn’t bother asking her about it because I wanted to get the car sorted and her home. I offered to cook her and Mrs. Gerber dinner then stay here because those two opposite flat tires didn’t sit right.”
“I appreciate your help even if it sounds like I don’t. I’m not used to anyone else taking care of things with Whit.”
“Again, you’re welcome. But let me get to the part about why I wanted you to call me. I had her car towed to my mechanic. I’ve been using him for years and he’s trustworthy. The tow truck driver was confused by the tires and asked Whitney if she’d run over anything; she assured us she hadn’t. On the side to me, he said he’d speak to Cal and get him to call me. Cal called me after dinner.”
“And? ”
“Someone let those tires down. There’s nothing wrong with them. No nails in them, no tears from hitting a gutter, nothing. They’re in perfect condition. Cal said they aren’t even wearing unevenly or anything.”
“They were let down on purpose?”
“That’s Cal’s guess. Mine too.”
“Who would want to do that?”
“I wanted to ask Whitney if she’d had a fight or disagreement with anyone at school but she’s not my daughter; it’s not my place to ask.”
“Right. Okay, and she’s all right?”
“She’s fine. No hint that something might be wrong. Although we did talk about the two times reporters were waiting for her outside school and here at the house.”
“At the house? She didn’t tell me about that. I knew about the school incident and spoke to the principal about it and he promised to be more vigilant.”
“Explains why he was out there when she left this afternoon.”
My mind spins with possibilities and explanations and the only thing I can come up with other than another kid doing it as a prank or revenge is someone did it to strand Whitney outside her school.
“It might have been someone hoping to catch her there. Possibly a reporter looking to strand her there to get to ask questions or take pictures?”
“Is that a question?”
“Kind of. I’m not sure I buy that explanation but it’s a possibility as much as another kid doing it.”
“What reporter would do that? You told me you’re not all like the guy from the other night.”
“I did and it’s the truth but he’s still around somewhere. He seemed too invested in digging up dirt on you for my liking. Besides, he’s still trying to get the Rogues to pay to replace his phone.” A smile curls my lips. Nat is giving him the runaround on that. Although she intends to have it replaced, just on her timeline, not his.
“I don’t know what to think. Or what to do.”
“If I were you, I’d ask Whitney about anyone she might have argued with at school. It seems like a prank to me. Something a boy might do if he wanted her attention…” The more I think about it, the more possibilities I come up with. “Maybe a boy likes her and wanted to come to the rescue?”
“Again with a question.” I can hear the smile in Beckett’s voice. “It’s late and I’ve got to be up early to fly home. Can you stay at the house with Whit until she goes to school?”
“I can. I’ll even drop her off. Cal said he’ll have the car ready to pick up in the morning but if you want, I can swing past your house and grab you after lunch and we can get it before Whitney finishes school.”
“Okay, yeah, that will work. We’ve got tomorrow off because of the thing tomorrow night.”
“Ah, yes, the fan barbecue. You don’t sound too keen on going.”
“I’m not. It’ll be our first public appearance as father and daughter and I’m not sure how that’s going to go. Are you going to be there?”
“I am. Although I’ll be working. I’m going to do some interviews with the fans, weave them into the ones I’m doing with the players and management and staff of the Rogues.”
“Other reporters will be there.”
“They will, but only a couple. Nat doesn’t want it turning into a press conference; it’s about the fans.”
“Any advice for answering questions about me and Whit?”
“Tell the truth. You don’t have to tell them everything but don’t lie either. If you don’t want to answer a question, give them something else.”
“Like what?”
“Well, if they ask about being a teenage single dad, talk about changing dirty diapers and how you never thought you’d be wiping someone else’s butt, something like that.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
“And tell Whitney she can come find me if she feels uncomfortable being near you. Most people don’t know who she is and won’t recognize her so she should be free to move around the event without getting hassled.”
“No one better hassle her.”
The vehemence in his voice makes me smile. He really is a great dad, a great protector. “She’ll be fine. There’s going to be a lot of security and staff wandering around; they’ll be keeping an eye on everything and everyone.”
“I hope so. I’d hate to get into trouble for punching someone.”
“You don’t strike me as the violent type.”
“I’m not. Except when it comes to Whit.”
I can see that. His love for his daughter is fierce, a palpable energy that surrounds them when they’re together. I saw it the night I interviewed them. Feel it whenever he talks about Whitney and from her when she talks about him. “I’ll be sure to give everyone a heads up. Do I have your permission to tell them about her car?”
“You think you should?”
“I don’t know, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“Okay, but I can pull Oakley and Natalie aside to tell them in the morning.”
“All right, I’ll leave that with you but tell them to call me if they have any questions. And they both use the same mechanic so they can call him if they want more details.”
“Thanks. I better let you go. We both need to get up early.”
“Yeah, Whitney said she leaves for school at seven so she can work in the library before class.”
“She loves school. It made homeschooling her easy as hell. Never any fights over doing her lessons. ”
“I can see that about her. She had a heap of questions about my job while we ate dinner.”
“She’s naturally curious, which makes me wonder how I ever kept her off social media.”
“I was surprised when she told me she’s only been on there a couple of years; these days everyone is on one platform or another. Especially teenagers. Then again, Whitney isn’t the average teenager. She’s wise beyond her years.”
“Which makes me think she didn’t miss the weirdness of her flat tires.”
“Huh. Now that you say that, I bet she’s just as curious about it as I am.”
“That makes three of us. But we can’t do anything about it now. I’ll let you get some sleep. And please, don’t sleep on the couch, use my bed. And I’m sure you’ve only got the clothes you were wearing today, there should be a shirt or something in my wardrobe for you to sleep in.”
“Thanks. But Whitney already set me up with a pair of her pajamas.”
“Good. And thanks again for looking after Whit. I’ll see you tomorrow after lunch.”
“About two? That should give us time to pick up her car before you have to pick her up from school.”
“Can we touch base on the time tomorrow? I might need a nap after tonight. I’m sure I won’t get much sleep with what you’ve told me rolling around my head.”
“Sure. Message me. I’ve got a lunch date but other than that I’m free all day.”
“You’re not working on your next big scoop?”
I can hear the grin and imagine the way it tilts his mouth. The vision is clear as day in my head and I have to shake it to dislodge the image.
“No. That’s not how I work.”
“Really? You’ll have to explain to me what it is you do when I see you tomorrow. ”
“If you’re interested, sure.” I press a hand to my mouth when a yawn cracks my jaw. “Sorry. The day is catching up with me.”
“My fault. Go, get some sleep and I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Bye.” Hanging up I stand in the garage and ponder our conversation.
In spite of Beckett’s initial raised voice, our talk didn’t go the way I expected it to. We haven’t really been on friendly terms. In fact I’d say our interactions have been quite hostile. But the last few minutes were relaxed. Like two friends catching up on each other’s lives…
I don’t understand the shift. We haven’t had any interaction since the day after I interviewed him and Whitney, and his level of dislike was still blatantly obvious.
What changed?
Oakley hasn’t mentioned talking to him; neither has Nat or Blake. If he’d gone to them like I suggested I could understand the shift.
Then again, it could just be that I came to Whitney’s aid today. In my experience actions are always more believable than words. It’s possible, with time to think, to replay our previous encounters, Beckett Higgison no longer sees me as the enemy he first perceived.
Shaking my head as another jaw cracking yawn sneaks up on me, I head back into the house. I lock the door between the garage and the utility room for good measure although I’m not worried about someone breaking in.
That doesn’t stop me from checking all the doors and windows on the ground floor. As I said to Beckett, better to be safe than sorry. And the safety of the girl in my care is a priority I have no intention of slacking on.
Once I’m happy the house is secure, I head upstairs to the master bedroom. The walls are covered in the girliest wallpaper I’ve even seen and I can’t hold back my laughter .
The thought of big brawny Beckett Higgison sleeping in here, surrounded by all this femininity, is hilarious. I’m still chuckling as I snuggle under the soft bedding on Beckett’s bed, his masculine scent surrounding me, and drift off to sleep.