She’d tried to reach Michael, but his phone had gone straight to voice mail, and he hadn’t responded to her text messages. “Did you arrest them?”

“No. They just had to give a statement.” Her father put his pen down, then rubbed his eyes. “We found evidence on the gunman linking him to the fire in the home.”

“And the bombing?”

“I can’t say.”

Which meant yes. Probably.

“What about the other fires?”

“Hannah—”

“No. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” She hesitated again.

He studied her. “Why did you come looking for me?”

She gave him a look. “Because you wouldn’t answer your phone.”

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, took a glance at the screen, and grimaced. “I can’t believe it’s after seven. I missed one from your mother, too.” He centered on Hannah, and his voice turned brusque again. “That doesn’t answer my question. What do you need?”

She blinked. “I don’t need anything.”

“Were you just trying to find out the fate of your boyfriend? I’ve already told you that I’m not going to let personal feelings get in the way of—”

“Dad.” This was so typical. She almost slapped her hand on the desk to get his attention. “I’m not here because of Michael. Is that what you think? That I came here to beg you not to arrest him?”

“I sure hope you’re not here to make your case about being an adult again—”

“I’m not here to argue at all!” She stood up. It was a struggle to keep her voice low. “God, you make it impossible to talk to you.”

“I’m not the only one.”

That made her stop, a quick retort dying on her tongue. For the first time in a long while, he was looking at her—really looking at her—and his expression revealed that maybe he was as frustrated by their relationship as she was.

When she’d been a child, all she’d needed to do was shed a tear, and he’d swoop her up in his arms and make her feel better. She wished he would do that right now.

Because that wouldn’t be awkward right here in the middle of the police station.

She took a long breath to ensure her voice would be level. “I really was worried about you. That’s the only reason I came looking for you.”

And because she couldn’t take any more rejection from him, especially now, she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

By the time she made it to the parking lot, she realized she’d expected him to follow her. He didn’t.

Shocking.

She climbed into her car and put the key in the ignition. She felt like such an idiot. It didn’t help that his last comment kept pinging around her brain, making her question her own actions.

I’m not the only one.

He wasn’t right. He couldn’t be right. She’d made one mistake in high school, and he’d turned into a different person. He’d gone from someone who always did the right thing to someone who’d barely give her the time of day. Nothing she did was ever good enough.

Fuck him. She didn’t need this. She shoved the gearshift into reverse and pressed down on the accelerator.

A hand knocked on her window. Hannah jumped and slammed down on the brakes. Her car was half out of the parking place, and her father stood just outside the driver’s-side door, about six inches away from being squished between two cars.

She rolled down the window. “Are you crazy? I could have killed you!”

His eyes were dark and shadowed in the darkness. “Maybe you shouldn’t back out of a parking place at forty miles an hour, then.” Before she could get all up in arms, he leaned closer. “You’re a paramedic. I would have been all right.”

She looked at the windshield. Her eyes were burning, and she was ashamed to realize she was a breath away from crying. “I’m not a paramedic yet.”

“That’s all right. I already know you’ll be a good one.”

Hannah turned to look at him. She expected a patronizing smile, maybe even a mocking one. But shadows still darkened his face, and he looked serious as ever.

It was possibly the kindest thing he’d said to her in years.

That didn’t mean she had to take the bait. “What do you want?” she said.

He glanced at the open lane of traffic behind her. “Could you park your car for a moment?”

She was tempted to refuse, to press down on the accelerator, and then zoom off, leaving him standing here.

But she didn’t want that any more than he did.

She pulled back into the parking place, rolled up her window, and got out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind her. Her breath fogged instantly, and she rubbed her hands together, leaning back against the driver’s-side door.

“Parked,” she said. “Now what?”

He leaned against the adjacent car. “I try not to tell your mother too much because I don’t want to worry her.”

“You were a fireman for years. You don’t think she’s used to it?”

He laughed, but without any real humor to it. “Not anymore. She thinks this job is code violations and safety inspections. Most of the time, she’s right, so I don’t spend much time correcting her. But your mother hated it when I was a fireman.”

“No, she didn’t. She loved it.”