"Carson?" she gasped into the mouthpiece, her fingers numbing from her death grip. Death? Awful word choice. The smell of leftover spaghetti hanging in the air made her nauseous. "Is everything okay?"
Silence answered. A delay for a telemarketer recording? She glanced at the caller ID, which read "unknown" as she'd seen before when Carson used his cell.
She put the receiver to her ear again. "Carson? Is that you?"
Was the news so bad he was searching for the right words? But no. He was never that shaken. If anything, he became more focused in a crisis. She admired that about him, along with so many other traits she'd never noticed before, too caught up in her hormonal crush and a thousand other things that seemed frivolous now in light of how transient life could be.
Huffing breaths increased on the airwaves, sending a creepy chill down her spine. An obscene phone call? Or something far more sinister and dangerous?
Footsteps sounded from the living room, coming closer, loping—her brother.
"Hang up," Chris hissed, the television echoing Jamie's Disney flick from the other room.
"What?"
He yanked the phone from her and barked into the receiver, "The line's tapped, you bastard, so quit calling."
Chris nailed the off button and tossed the phone onto Jamie's empty high chair.
What was going on and why hadn't anyone bothered to tell her? "The phone's tapped?"
"We've been getting calls like that for two days, so Mom phoned that Agent Reis guy. Mom didn't want to scare you and since you stayed up in the garage apartment most of the time, you were never here when one came in."
Could that have been why Reis wanted to speak to her family?
And ohmigod, none of this even mattered if something had happened to her father.
Call, call, call. She touched the phone, willing it to ring with Carson on the other end. Her hand slid back to her side as she turned to her brother. "Were you going to tell me about the breather and speaking with Agent Reis?"
"Haven't had the chance since you've been so busy with your major squeeze." Her brother slouched against the counter with a leftover slice of garlic bread. "Major squeeze. Get it? He's a major?" When she didn't laugh, he frowned. "Is something wrong?"
No need for Chris to worry, too. Pulling a weak attempt at a smile, she pitched a pot holder at his head. "Major squeeze? That was pretty lame."
"So insult me or something. This is no fun if you won't fight back."
She dropped into a chair at the kitchen table, snitching up the cordless phone. "I'm just on edge." She nudged her memory journal aside, not that she'd been able to add anything to the blank page with worries for her father filling her head. "Now what about this mystery caller? What did Agent Reis have to say?"
The phone rang under her hand. She snatched it up, thumbing the on button, but wary of another call from 'the breather'. "Hello?"
"It's me." Carson.
She sighed her relief, only to have tension ratchet up all over again as she waited to hear what happened overseas.
"Your father's okay."
Thank God, Carson cut right to the chase. She grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling off her seat, her whole body suddenly limp. Her silent, lumbering father would be corning home. She blinked back tears.
Chris frowned, starting toward her and reaching for the phone.
Nikki palmed the mouthpiece. "The call's for me."
"Sure, I can tell when I'm not wanted." He ambled back to the Disney flick, whispering "major squeeze" repeatedly. God, she loved her dorky brother who'd been so sweet helping out at home even after his classes resumed.
She slid her hand from the receiver. "I'm back. Sorry, but I wanted to send Chris out. Details? Please."
"Your dad wasn't even injured. I spoke with him a half hour ago." Carson rushed to reassure her. "I'm heading toward your house and I don't want your mother to freak out when I pull into the driveway."
"She's upstairs resting."