Instead, Zep was outside with the dog. And it looked like he’d taken a nap on the comfy chair she sometimes read in at night. His boots were beside it and his shirt draped over the back. He would have been ridiculously uncomfortable. She’d told him he could leave, but he wouldn’t. He’d told her he would be right there in case she needed him.
How many times had he taken the puppy out? Had he gotten any sleep at all?
The phone buzzed and she sighed.
She turned away and retrieved the phone. Her mother had obviously decided whatever she had to say was important, and she wouldn’t give up. She would simply call until Roxie answered.
She would way rather watch Zep try to deal with a puppy version of himself, but she slid her finger across the surface of the phone to accept the call. “Hello, Mom.”
“Roxanne, I’ve been trying to get hold of you all morning. I was starting to worry something had gone terribly wrong. You can’t not answer when your mother calls and you’re a cop. I was about to dial that station house of yours and demand answers.”
“I’m fine. I worked the night shift.” She wasn’t about to admit that something had actually gone wrong. Especially not that she’d nearly been taken out by a snake while searching for a Cajun werewolf. To say that her mother had been against her moving to Louisiana would be an understatement, like calling a Cat 5 hurricane a gentle breeze with a smattering of rain.
Hurricanes had been one of the reasons her mother had listed for not moving to Papillon. Along with alligators, lack of potential for advancement, and yes, she’d mentioned Deliverance. She was every bit as scared of this place as Hallie Rayburn’s mom was of New York City.
“The night shift? You’re not some newbie.” Her mother sounded like she was in a car. “Why would they treat you like that? Your boyfriend allows this? I would think he could control your schedule.”
She winced because that was a reminder of the white lie she’d told when she’d first moved down here. It had been all about self-preservation. “It’s a small department. We all work nights from time to time. I was taking my shift.”
Hopefully that would be the end of it. She didn’t want to get into her imaginary dating life with her mother. The only reason she had an imaginary dating life was to keep her mother out of any kind of real dating life she might have. In some distant future.
“Well, I still think he should take better care of you,” her mother insisted. “Say what you like about him, but Joel always made sure you had good assignments even though he wasn’t in your unit. He used his position to better his family. He took care of you.”
“He did not do that in any way.” Her mother was excellent at rewriting history to fit her worldview. She was starting to get a headache that had nothing to do with her minor concussion. “In fact, he went out of his way to not help me. The only time he ever got involved in my career was to stop me from attempting to save myself from sexual harassment.”
A long sigh came over the line. “I don’t want to have this argument again. He was doing what he thought would help you. He loved you. I hope this Armie person cares about you half as much as Joel did. He hasn’t been dating, you know. He did right after the divorce, but he says he needs a break now. I think it’s because he knows he’s not over you.”
How exactly would her mother know? “You’ve talked to him? Seriously?”
“I had a perfectly innocent lunch with him the other day. I happened to be in the city and he was free. You know he’s friends with your brother. You can’t expect all of us to cut him off completely. Your brother works with him.”
And work was the most important thing. Nothing mattered more than moving up the ladder.
“Will you stop harping on her, Pamela? You promised this would be a good trip for all of us. All of us includes Roxanne.”
She stopped because that had been her father’s voice. “Is Dad in the car with you?”
Her father should be golfing. He’d retired a few years back, but he kept up a game with some of his friends from the precinct. They golfed every Tuesday morning without fail and then spent the afternoon at the club. He’d done it for years, and her father didn’t like to change a schedule.
She heard the door to the backyard open and then close and Zep saying something about Daisy being a good girl. At least one thing had gone right.
“Yes, your father’s in the car, but don’t worry. Your brother’s driving. I wouldn’t let your father drive here. It’s very frightening, and his reflexes aren’t what they used to be,” her mother was saying.