Chapter 8 #2
I was beginning to hate when he laughed and the way he was looking at me, as if the man could see right through me.
Through the self-consciousness, the anxiety, and the insidious decisions I’d made on a whim.
Also, the fact I was attracted to him. But he wanted to learn more.
My skin began to crawl from the raging heat fueled by desire that repulsed me.
“I’m a painter. An artist. I have gallery showings and sell online.”
“An artist.” He lifted his head, studying me intently. “You’re in over your head, Fallon. You have no understanding of the level of danger you’re in.”
“From you?”
“I guess that remains to be seen.”
The man was simply absorbing the information, processing as if determining how best to punish me all over again.
“I can hold my own, Navarro.”
“As it would seem. That might be tested in the future. What was your father involved in?”
What I was about to tell him wasn’t exactly a lie, but even as I thought about the past few years, I was incredulous my father had been okay with finding what had to be a menial job.
“Up until recently, he was an accountant for a large firm in LA. He lost his job over a year ago.” He was a scientist working for a midsize firm and I had absolutely no clue what his work entailed.
He’d kept his job separate from his home life.
He’d been there for recitals and PTA meetings, there to cook dinner and tuck us into bed.
By anyone’s standards, he’d been an amazing father.
Navarro rolled his glass from one hand to the other. “You’re suggesting he was hired as an accountant for a Mexican cartel.”
“Maybe, but I find that hard to believe. I know he didn’t have much in retirement and no one wants to hire a man his age, but it seems so farfetched.” Another lump formed in my throat, but I managed to keep direct eye contact.
“Agreed. Why think that way?”
I sucked in my breath. “Because the threatening note I received seemed to indicate he’d wronged someone and they were seeking revenge in blood. Whoever it was destroyed my home and my sister’s as well.”
He was taking in the information without so much as a tic appearing in the corner of his mouth.
“Did he ever tell you the name of this organization? Or did the people who broke into your home make any mention?”
“Are you kidding me? First of all, I was out of town when they left me their calling card including driving that knife you stole from me into a painting of my sister. My father was a private man. He never wanted his girls to worry. I had no idea he’d lost his job until he got sick and was in the hospital and Brooke cleaned his house, so he’d have a nice home to return to.
She noticed the termination letter in his stack of mail and called me.
There was also a bank statement, and he had a significant amount of money in three separate accounts. I put two and two together.”
His smirk was cold and calculated. “If what you’re telling me is true and he became an accountant for a cartel, any discrepancies such as theft would result in truly savage punishments. Often carried out on those considered weak links.”
I suddenly felt more anxious than before. “My sister and I.”
“Exactly. What else led you to this farfetched conclusion?”
He didn’t believe a word I was saying. “After Brooke told me about the accounts and him losing his job, I headed to his house to confront him. While he tried to shove me out, I kept asking until he told me to leave the subject alone. That was three months ago. After that, he ghosted me and my sister. I knew he was taking trips because a couple of times I drove by his house late at night and his car wasn’t there. My father isn’t a social animal.”
“What about your mother?” He tilted his head. Now his gorgeous eyes were narrowed as he waited for my answer.
“She’s been dead a very long time.” The warm flush creeping along my jawline was suffocating. He was doing nothing more than interrogating me.
“I’m very sorry to hear that. When did you learn about your sister’s disappearance?”
“As soon as I found my house in disarray, I called her. That was almost two weeks ago. She was in a panic, although no one had broken into her house. She said some men had been hanging around her apartment and at her elementary school.”
Navarro’s jaw clenched.
“I told her to call the police.”
“Did you?”
I shook my head. “At least not at that point. I know it sounds stupid, but I knew the cops wouldn’t do any good. She did contact them and a report was made. For a little while, she wasn’t bothered or followed. Neither was I. I talked with my dad and he made it seem like nothing was wrong.”
“But you knew otherwise.”
“Only when Brooke called a few days later. The surveillance had started again. She never saw anyone, but she felt them. I had a bad feeling and decided to find out what the hell was going on. I was headed to LA and tried to call her first. I figured we’d confront my father together.
She didn’t answer. I raced to her apartment.
It had been trashed just like mine, but I didn’t find any threats.
Panic settled in and I called my dad. He acted strange and wouldn’t talk to me.
I called the police. Another report, the bastards acting like maybe she’d had a spat with a boyfriend.
I knew nothing would come of it. It’s LA. Someone is murdered every minute.”
“So you went to your father’s house.”
I nodded, hating the fact tears were threatening to give my weakness away. “Yes, to make him tell me what the hell was going on.”
He took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds as he leaned forward. “Go on.”
“By the time I arrived, which was maybe three hours later, he was gone. And no, his place wasn’t trashed. It was locked up tight. I searched everything, finding a note addressed to me saying he was sorry. Sorry? Imagine.”
He shifted in his seat, never blinking.
This was the point where I had no intention of going into any details.
“His own daughter was missing and he just said he was fucking sorry. The bastard packed a suitcase and left. He didn’t give a shit about his daughter who was missing.” My anger wasn’t staged. I’d never felt so betrayed in my life. That’s when I dug through his things.
Then I’d learned the truth.
“You’re certain your sister was taken and didn’t leave because she was scared, perhaps finding somewhere to hide?”
“Give me a break, Navarro. Her place was trashed as if the bastards had been searching for something. Her phone was there, no clothes taken. Maybe whatever my father stole from them. Money? I don’t know because I’m not a criminal.
Just look at the picture. Take a good look at it.
If she’d fled, within a couple hours she would have found a way to contact me. ”
The photograph held his gaze for another few seconds. He was angry, but at that moment, not with me. “The photo was doctored, Fallon. Whether you chose to believe me or not, I had nothing to do with Brooke being taken.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
“You’ll need to if you hope to obtain answers.” Damn it. The man looked even more handsome with the two-day stubble covering his jaw.
“I hope you’re not lying to me, Fallon. People who do don’t like the consequences they face after doing so. I’d keep that in mind if I were you.”