heard him asking to speak with a lieutenant at the police precinct where Owen was most likely taken. My father had a buddy there that shared my father's interest in tough cases and golf.
"Dean, it’s been too long. Yeah, I know you miss our late-night chats. Well, I've got a good list of questions if you've got the time," my father said. "Seems like a friend of my daughters’ was brought in tonight. He doesn't know it, yet but I'm on his case. Did they bring in the roommate too? No? You boys are slipping, huh. Name's Jasper Collins. You're welcome. Sure. See you in a few."
I could not help but poke my head back around the corner. "You're taking Owen's case?"
"Yes. My buddy was surprised to hear there was a roommate. Guess there's not much on paper. So, your vagabond drug dealer theory is sounding a little more plausible." My father heaved himself up from the couch.
"I guess there is one more thing you should know." I squeezed my hands together. "Owen thought maybe it was you that was harassing him. He thought you might be getting your judge contacts to sign search warrants just to get in the way."
"Why didn't I think of that?" He chuckled. "Though from the looks of things, it wouldn't have scared you off."
"He's not a drug dealer, I swear."
"Just let me go and do my job," my father said. "And speaking of jobs, I expect to hear all about your new plan and how you are going to finance it yourself. Breakfast tomorrow. You make the pancakes and I'll listen."
"Really? You're going to help Owen?" I ran over and hugged my father tight around the neck.
I felt his tired smile against my cheek. "Like you said, I could use a win tonight. Please keep an eye on your mother. She should sleep all night, but if… I mean, it would just be nice to know that she's alright."
I held my hands up to my mouth. "No, this is wrong, isn't it? You want to stay here with Mom. You can take care of all of this in the morning. I shouldn't have pushed this on you tonight."
He patted my cheek. "I would not have slept, anyway. You know me. I would be in my office until the crack of dawn. I got used to this schedule a long time ago. It’s just part of the job."
"Thank you," I said.
My father nodded and left to join Owen at the jail.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Owen
I parked at the end of the driveway and turned the car off. Just in case anyone was looking from the house, I checked my phone. Not that I was nervous. Mr. Thomas had come to the jail the same night I was arrested. That had to mean he did not hate me as much as I always suspected.
He had reason to, though. I had done awful things. I dated Sienna for much longer than I should have. We knew it was not working, but I was too lazy to change anything. And the whole time, I was really in love with Quinn. That was a fact that was apparent to everyone else but us.
So after I got drunk, said horrible things I did not mean, and was caught kissing another woman, it was a shock that Quinn's father had come to my defense. He never said a single thing about his daughter the whole night. When he finally did mention her, there was a smile on his face I had never seen before. We looked at each other like two men waking up from a bad dream.
"Quinn's really something. I hope you know that," Mr. Thomas had said.
With that thought in mind, I grabbed the cellophane-wrapped flowers and got out of the car. My stride hitched once on the front walk, but I forced myself to the door. Mr. Thomas opened it only seconds after I knocked. He must have been watching from one of the bay windows.
"Glad to see you decided to finally join us," he said.
I winced, despite the neutral smile on his face. I was just used to having him dislike every single thing I did. "I heard that Mrs. Thomas is feeling better, but I wanted to give her these anyway," I said.
"How thoughtful."
I took a deep breath and handed Mr. Thomas a long, heavy bag. "And here's a bottle of aged whiskey for you. I was not sure what kind you drank, so I can return it if it’s not right. I want you to have something that you actually like, so please tell me."
"Owen, I'm sure it’s fine. Whiskey is great, thanks," he said.
"I want to thank you for everything you did for me. Helping me out with the arrest, clearing my record, and for giving me a second chance," I said.
"Well, don't screw it up this time." He opened the door wider and led the way into the house.
I looked around and expected Quinn to bound down the staircase or come jogging around the hall corner from the basement. "Quinn is home, right?" I asked.
"Yes, she'll be down when she's done. Some practice test. She's been studying very hard and her scores are excellent, but she insists on taking every practice test anyway," Mr. Thomas said.