Daddy's Girl

Excerpt:
Garth saw the man grab her purse and backhand her when he was still a few feet away. She was a crumpled heap on the pavement, but he recovered her property.
Unfortunately, her cell phone was a total loss. That had gone flying when the dirt-bag had tugged on her purse.
The police arrived almost right away. Since it was an upscale Maryland suburb, Garth wasn’t surprised. He let the officers take credit for the collar but stayed with the young lady while the paramedics checked her over.
A petite five feet, two inches in her white sports shoes, she was pretty as hell. Her long, dark brown hair was slightly wavy. It framed a lovely oval face with beautifully arched brows and delicate cheekbones. Almond shaped eyes the color of copper pennies had captured his attention right away. Garth knew he could stare at this woman for hours and be completely happy.
At some point during the proceedings, a reporter appeared on the scene asking her if she worked at the White House. She admitted that she had a minor position in the research department. Before she even knew what was happening, a photographer snapped a picture of her attempting to block her face with small hands that were completely inadequate to the task.
The little lady seemed very upset about the entire incident. Garth thought she was showing signs of shock. When her teeth began to chatter he gave her his denim jacket. It was so large on her that she was lost in it.
“Can they do that?” she asked Garth. “Can they just take your picture and put it in the paper?”
Poor thing.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he told her, “It’s the Freedom of Information Act. You are a White House employee.”
“Can I borrow your cell phone?” she asked him, brow furrowed.
He winked at her. “Anything for a damsel in distress.” He wanted to get to know her better. This could be the edge he’d been looking for. “Need to call your husband? Boyfriend?” he asked her, artlessly.
Her mouth curved into a little smile. He already loved that beautiful dimple.
“Daddy,” she said.
He handed her the phone, smiling back at her. He saw her start when her hand wrapped around the phone. She smiled weakly and turned away from him as she began to push buttons. He listened shamelessly.
When someone answered, she said, “Kill Devil Hills, mile marker seven, twelve-twenty-seven A.M.” She waited for a minute.
His brow was furrowed now. That was an odd way to say hello. He turned a little away so she wouldn’t notice him listening.
“Hi, it’s Tabby. Could I speak to him please?” she said. “It’s important.” Her voice wobbled. She waited again.
After a minute, she said, “Daddy?” he saw her fighting to keep her chin from crumpling. She was obviously distressed.
“Someone tried to steal my…” her eyes were misty and apparently, “Daddy” didn’t make it past the word “steal” before he had something to say.
“I’m okay, Daddy, really. Its just they took my picture for the paper and I have a bruise and…” Evidently Daddy didn’t like some part of that sentence. Garth bet the word “bruise” had gotten his attention this time.
“Daddy, you can’t do that! I’m just a researcher; you can’t assign me a detail.” She took a deep breath and listened.
Both she and Daddy certainly had his attention now. There weren’t that many people in Washington who could assign anyone a “detail.” He knew that because he was a “detail.”
Garth Cavanaugh was a Secret Service operative assigned to the Presidential Protection detail. This was his afternoon off.