Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas) by Mari Manning

daddy did.”
    “Whatever.” He didn’t sound like he had accepted her apology.
    She tried to unruffled his feathers. “So tell me why you decided to become a cop.”
    “Why? So you have more ammunition to fling at me the next time you get on your high horse?”
    “I’m interested. Honest.”
    “Seems like you were being more honest before.”
    Yesterday, that would have been true. Maybe it was the letter from the prison. At the end of his life, her daddy had thought about her, loved her, owned up to his crime, and accepted his punishment. He’d freed himself from the painful past long ago while she’d carted around her anger and resentment against Daddy and Momma for so long, some days it felt like a third arm. But the letter had loosened those feelings.
    “My daddy was responsible for what he did, and he paid for it.” Was she really saying this? She was, and she meant it. “I guess it’s just been easier for me to blame cops in general than to accept my own daddy was a criminal.”
    “I know things haven’t been easy for you. I shouldn’t have gone off on you.”
    Dinah squirmed. His sympathy was harder to take than his anger. “I was serious. Why did you decide on the force?”
    He glanced over at her, his dark eyes wary, and she met them, raising her brows at him. He shrugged.
    “Nothing to it, really. I couldn’t make it in the NFL after college—my damn knee gave out three games into the season—so I took the police exam and passed. The rest, as they say, is history.”
    “Did you study criminal justice in college? Or were you a social studies major like the other jocks?”
    He frowned. “Not every guy who plays college football is a caveman.”
    “Sorry. I’m just trying to understand. What did you major in?”
    “Biology.”
    A faded memory nagged at the back of her mind. Esme’s voice, saying, Miss Peppie’s been crying for two days, and Papa won’t talk to anyone. My brother told them he doesn’t want to be a vet. I think he broke Papa’s heart.
    “You were supposed to go to A&M, to veterinary school, weren’t you? Dr. Ernesto helped you get in. Esme told me.”
    A rueful smile curled his lips. “I hated biology and the pre-vet stuff. Being an NFL running back was a great excuse to avoid veterinary school. I thought my family would be proud. Then I got injured.”
    “Being a cop was a fall back?”
    “At first. I mean I’d never thought about it seriously. But I wanted to do something good like my pop, and what’s better than getting the bad guys off the street. I have no regrets.”
    “Except your hand shakes every time you touch your gun.”
    A wall went up. “You’re swimming in dangerous waters, Miss Dinah.”
    “Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.” Change the subject! “So did Dr. Ernesto find a vet to take over his practice when he retires?”
    “Esme went to A&M instead of me.” He turned away from her. “Here we are. Almost home.” Rafe cruised up to the bungalow and parked.
    Dinah grabbed the door handle. “Good night.”
    “Wait.” His eyes gleamed in the dark. Her belly tightened. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
    “Really, Rafe. It’s not even a hundred feet. I can manage.” There was no way he was getting into the house.
    “You’re as skittish as a girl on her first date, Miss Dinah.” He drawled the words at her, and his dimples appeared like punctuation marks for his generous mouth.
    She tore her eyes away from his face. “I meant it’s not necessary, that’s all.”
    He adjusted his hat. “Just escorting a lady home like I was taught.”
    “Suit yourself.” She jumped out before he could come around and open her door.
    He waited at the curb and fell into step beside her. “Thank you for rescuing me from Peppie’s matchmaking schemes.”
    “Thanks for asking me. Seeing Dr. Ernesto and Miss Peppie again was a true pleasure. As for the rest…” She shrugged. “It’s about what I ex—” A ghostly object by the front door glimmered.