Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Danica stepped out of her father’s office, she found Noah waiting down the hall. She’d left the motorcycle helmet on a table, so she grabbed it as she passed, along with the backpack.
Noah raised his eyebrows, asking a silent question.
“My room,” she said. “Upstairs.”
Once they’d reached her bedroom, Danica shut the door. “Well that was—” she began, but Noah held up a finger to his lips.
What? she mouthed.
Noah slid the straps of the backpack from her shoulders. He set the pack on the floor, unzipped it, and dug around inside. When his hand came out, he was holding a black plastic device.
He walked around the room with it.
Danica realized what he must be doing. She waited for him to finish.
“You’re clean,” he said. “No listening devices in this room.”
She breathed out. She wished she could say he was being ridiculous to think her room could be bugged. But, considering recent events?
Danica sat on her bed and fell backward, covering her eyes. The mattress compressed as Noah sat next to her.
“How’d it go with your father?”
“Could’ve been better.”
“He’s not happy I’m here?”
“Happy? No. Not so much.”
“I don’t expect him to like me. How could he, after what happened with Soren? But then I showed up here today with you on my motorcycle.” Noah chuckled. “Not the smartest idea, in hindsight.”
“It was my not-smart idea. But I was trying to get a reaction.”
“Was it the reaction you expected?”
“Unfortunately? Yes.” William had acted like a man who didn’t trust his daughter, no matter how much she’d done to earn it.
“I’m sure he’ll be relieved when he finds out we’re not really together.”
Her jaw tightened. “No doubt.”
“While you were with your dad, Blake gave me a talking-to.”
Danica sat up. “What did he say?”
“He warned me away from you. He thinks I’m sleeping with you for your money and social status. Either that, or I have some everlasting vendetta against Soren, and taking you to bed is my latest tactic.”
She tipped her head back, cackling. She’d needed a laugh.
“Here’s my question,” Noah said. “Do you think your father and Blake are on the list of potential suspects?”
Her laughter died in her throat. Nausea had replaced it. “For hiring those men who came after me? Plotting my kidnapping?”
In her dad’s office a few minutes ago, she’d been thinking that was impossible. If the kidnappers wanted ransom, they’d expect her dad to pay it.
But really? She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Her father and Blake had known her schedule. They’d had the means and opportunity to set her up, though their motives were unfathomable.
“I guess it’s possible they’re involved,” she finished. “Though I hate even thinking it.”
Noah put his hand over hers. “Our computer analysts could find out you were hacked. In that case, the plot would’ve come from the outside, and your family’s probably got nothing to do with it.”
“God, I hope so.” And if she could stop the hack and change her schedule, then the kidnappers would have nothing left to go on. No way to find her without starting all over.
If that happened, Bennett Security would still have to find the man with the eagle tattoo and whomever had altered the video footage. But at least she’d know her family wasn’t behind it.
Once again, Noah set up a pillow and blanket on the floor, and Danica took the bed. She switched out the light, but she still felt his presence. She could hear him breathing. Smell his soapy, manly scent.
“Noah? Can I tell you something?”
“Always.”
“It happened last year. But I don’t think that this has anything to do with the kidnapping attempts.” At least, she really didn’t want to think there could be a connection.
But at the moment, she was questioning everything.
“Okay,” he said. “What is it?”
Her father had said, We can’t trust his discretion. But she trusted Noah with anything. He’d proven himself to her, over and over.
Danica wanted to trust him with this, too.
“Last fall, someone tried to blackmail me.”
The message had appeared a month after her profile in Vanity Fair. She remembered the day being crisp and clear, all the leaves changing to fiery colors in Central Park.
She’d sat down at her computer, checking her inbox first thing as she usually did. The email had come in to her foundation address.
I have information about your father that you won’t want publicized. Contact me and we can talk.
She hadn’t responded, of course, dismissing the message as meaningless. Just some internet troll attempting to squeeze a few dollars out of her.
But a week later, another message had arrived.
You’re not taking me seriously. But I have a question for you. What was your father doing January 17th, exactly twenty-eight years ago? If you value your father’s legacy, you’ll get in touch. I have proof of certain things, and if you aren’t interested, the media will be.
This time, the message had unnerved her enough for her to forward it to their security chief.
“You never heard if Blake found this person?” Noah asked.
“He said it was just a prank. That the trail led nowhere.” But the incident still bothered her. That message had been so specific.
“Did you look into this date they mentioned?”
“I tried. I asked my father about it, and he said he had no idea.” Danica and Soren had been little kids then. Her mom had still been alive.
“You told your dad about the message?”
“Of course. At the same time that I’d sent it on to Blake. After their investigation didn’t go anywhere, my father and I didn’t speak about it again.”
“There are two options,” Noah said. “Either Blake was telling the truth, and this person was just blowing smoke. Or…”
“Or Blake paid the person off,” she finished for him. She’d been thinking the same thing. “I feel like I don’t have a clue what’s really going on in my family.”
“Do you want me to look into it? I could ask our research team to see what might’ve happened in your father’s life twenty-eight years ago on January 17th.”
“Not yet. Let’s wait to hear back about my computer, whether it was hacked. I’m not even sure I should’ve told you.”
Her father would be furious. He’d see it as a worse betrayal than she’d ever committed. Especially if he truly had something to hide, which she now believed.
“Then why did you?”
Because she’d never told anyone apart from Blake and her dad about the blackmail message. Not even Soren.
“Because I knew you’d listen,” she said.
Danica closed her eyes and tried to sleep.