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Page 268
"One glass too many," Chris muttered, thinking she'd passed out.
"No, I'm all right." D.J. turned her body and cuddled against his side. "Just cold. And you're so warm."
Her slurred voice alerted Chris that she wasn't all right, even if her actions hadn't been so out of character. He circled her back with his arm and pulled her closer, attempting to warm her with his own body heat.
"After my mother died my father sent me to live with his mother. He had no idea how to take care of an infant. Gran had moved from Isadora to a larger town when my dad went off to college. She wanted to be busy, so she opened an antique store with one of her friends. Then Gran died too. I was twelve." Her voice held a dreamy quality, as though she was remembering the events for the first time in a very long time.
"Where did your father live when you were with your grandmother?"
"Here. Or, rather, in a cabin he and my mother'd built even farther into the woods. They were kind of weird, I guess. Back-to-nature freakslive off the land and all that stuff. He was lucky enough to avoid the draft in Vietnamfirst because of the lottery, then he got married, then he had me." She tilted her head a bit as she considered a thought. "I wonder if they would have gone to Canada if he'd been drafted, since they were so big on peace and love." She gave a short laugh. "Hard to believe if you'd meet my father now. There isn't a tougher cop than Ed Belmont.''

 
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