She finally settled on the couch, curled into a ball and used the arm of it for a pillow. She was due to contact her dad soon and she’d have to think up a new lie. He thought she was traveling through Europe and would be shocked if he knew she’d never left California. They kept in touch via her computer. It was much easier to lie that way than to figure out how to route calls with her dad’s caller ID. She had friends and family who lived in France and Germany, they knew her dad was a tyrant and were sympathetic enough to send the occasional postcard his way to keep him fooled. They thought she just needed a break. That part had been true up to a point. Her dad had driven her nuts after she’d come home and she’d needed a break from him charging into her home trying to draw her out. She’d been depressed after her kidnapping, had taken time from work and hated to admit she’d wanted to stick close to her phone in case he called. The thought of Brawn made her sit up and clench her hands together over her thighs.
