Chapter 22 Giselle
GISELLE
I arrived at the airport fifteen minutes later. I found the nearest security guard and told him what Thayer had told me to say. He ushered me to my gate, and he waited with me until I’d boarded the plane. I could only breathe once I was in my window seat.
Then my mind reeled.
Between online orders and in-store purchases, I made a lot of money over the course of two years.
A lot of money that Gino convinced me to keep in a safe.
Sure, I used a bank for the money to purchase inventory, but otherwise we kept the money in-house.
And, he knew it. Had he told Carlo? Did he know what his friend was capable of? Or, had it been an inside job?
My stomach dropped.
Did he know Carlo was going to rob the store? Did he know he was going to hold a gun to my head?
I couldn’t take any more.
I picked up my phone and pressed Gino’s name. I needed to know if he knew.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey, Babe.”
“Hi,” I said, the sound of his voice feeling like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“What’s up?” he asked, having no idea I’d been to his office just an hour before.
“I know this is not ideal, but we need to talk,” I said.
“O-kay,” he said, a tinge of concern in his voice.
“This has been a really shitty month,” I began, hoping he’d say something that would prove he either knew or didn’t know what Carlo had done.
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t need you to be sorry. I needed you to be with me. But I know that’s not what I signed up for.”
He sighed.
“I don’t fault you, Gino. I knew what I was getting into when I started dating you. We lived in two different states, for God’s sake. But, I can’t do it anymore.”
“Giselle,” he pleaded.
“I need someone who will be there when the world turns to hell. Someone who can sleep in bed with me every night so I know I’m safe. Someone who can dance with me when I want to dance and drink with me when I want to let loose and have fun.”
“You want to move to Florida?” he asked, as if I was pressuring him into saying it.
“You know I’m not going to do that. I’m never going to leave my family. And I don’t expect you to leave your business.”
There was a long bout of silence on his end. “Well, this sucks.”
He was right. All of it sucked.
“What about the boutique?” he asked.
“Honestly? I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to go back in there.”
“It was your dream,” he said.
“Everything got destroyed that night, Gino. Don’t you realize that? I can’t even go to my condo because he told me he knows where I live.”
“That bastard!” he growled.
My stomach turned. Either Gino truly had no idea Carlo was the one who broke in, or he was one hell of an actor.
“Jesus, Giselle. Why haven’t you told me this was still affecting you?”
“Did you think it wouldn’t be? I had a gun to my head, Gino. A fucking gun.”
He didn’t respond. Did he truly not know it was Carlo?
“Look, we’re ending things on good terms,” I continued. “When the insurance payment comes in, I’m going to pay you back anything I owe you.”
“I don’t care about that.”
I was analyzing every word out of his mouth. Was it all lies? Was none of it the truth? Tears pricked my eyes—not because I was sad—because I was so completely overwhelmed…and confused. “Just give me a few days to clean out the condo. Then you can cancel the lease,” I said quietly.
“Take all the time you need…and reconsider the boutique. We can remain partners.”
“I’ll need to think about it,” I said.
“Of course.”
I paused for a long moment. “Bye, Gino.”
“Bye, Giselle,” he said.
Tears trailed down my cheeks. Not because I was heartbroken over the split, but because I still had no idea if he was involved.
His friend nearly killed me. I couldn’t let myself believe Gino knew.
But I also couldn’t be sure he didn’t. If I’d asked, I’d have clued him in to the fact that I was on to Carlo and possibly him.
And, I couldn’t risk doing that. Not until I talked to the police.
The woman next to me handed me a tissue.
“Thank you,” I said as I took it, dabbing away at my tears.
This was supposed to be a good thing. Thayer and I were going to get a fresh start. But now, I was even more confused than I’d been before.
Thayer
“I told you,” I said, stuffing my clothes into my suitcase. “I’ve got personal shit to take care of at home.”
“Dude, by the sounds of it, I’d think you just found out you got some girl pregnant,” Kason said from his bed in our hotel room.
I wanted to tell him the truth because he was going to kill me when he found out I knew and didn’t say anything. “Just let me go handle it. I promise, I’ll fill you in as soon as I can.”
“Thayer. Let me help you,” he said.
It sucked to know I was deceiving my best friend.
But if I told him, he’d be on the first plane to Florida, and that would screw everything up.
He was impulsive. And loyal to the core.
I knew what I needed to do—as much as I hated it.
“I’m good. Just let the Kincaid people know I’ll make it up to them. ”
He shook his head. “I don’t know why you always think you need to do things on your own.”
I grabbed my bag and brushed past him. “Just trust me on this one.” I nearly choked on the word trust, but I wouldn’t keep it from him if it wasn’t for his own good.
I made it to the airport with a couple of minutes to spare and was on the plane in no time. It was not even a two-hour flight, so it was only three o’clock when my plane touched down in Colorado. I reached my truck in record time and drove to the one place I loathed.
I hadn’t been to my father’s house since the night of my mother’s funeral, and I hadn’t talked to him either.
I knocked on the door and waited. The door swung open, and a petite blonde stood there looking closer to my age than my father’s.
“Is he here?” I asked, pushing by her and stepping into the house.
My father was in the kitchen holding a glass of wine and stirring something on the stove. “Thayer?”
“I need your help.” I glanced at the girl and then back at him. “Can we speak in your office?”
“Watch the rice,” he said to the girl as he placed his glass down. He led me into his office. The walls were filled with framed images of him shaking the hands of prestigious people. I always hated those photos. Because those strangers got his time, and my mother and I rarely had.
“Sit down,” he said as he sat in his leather chair behind his desk.
I dropped into the chair, my elbows digging into my knees and my hands wringing in front of me. “Kason’s sister’s boutique was robbed, and the guy tied her up and held her at gunpoint.”
“I heard about that. But it’s a local matter. The police are handling the case.”
“Yeah, well, they’ve found nothing,” I said.
“I’m not sure what you think I can do,” he said.
I scoffed. “Right. I was stupid to think a former FBI agent could help his son.”
“That’s not fair,” he said.
“You know what’s not fair, you not even trying to help.” I pushed myself to my feet.
“Sit down,” he yelled, raising his voice like he had when I was a kid.
I sat back down, not because he told me to, but because I needed his help.
“Has any new evidence come to light?”
“She saw the guy today.”
“Saw him? Why didn’t she call the police?”
“She was in Florida.”
“Florida?” He sounded like he didn’t believe me—or worse, he didn’t believe her.
“His name’s Carlo. He’s an old friend of her business partner, Gino Marcone.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the pictures Giselle had sent me. They were far away, and the license plate was blurry, but they were something.
“So, what? Do you think her business partner has loose lips, and this Carlo used it to his advantage?” he asked.
“No idea.”
“Could they be working together?” he asked.
I shrugged, but the thought clawed at my insides. If I found out Gino was involved, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.
“What would her business partner get out of it?” he mused.
“Insurance money?”
“That’s always a possibility in these crimes,” he said, writing down what I assumed were the names I’d given him. “How did she know it was the same guy? I thought I read that he was masked.”
“She recognized his voice.”
My father leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “That’s not much to go on. Do you know if there were any fingerprints found at the crime scene?”
I shook my head. “No, but she was sure it was him.”
“I don’t doubt she was sure she heard his voice. But sometimes victims in traumatic crimes try so hard to be helpful that they trick themselves into believing something that isn’t true.”
“She was sure it was him,” I repeated, not allowing him to doubt her.
He nodded, clearly understanding there was no room for distrust. “I have someone who can look into Marcone’s background to try to find out about Carlo. They can also investigate similar crimes.” He pointed to the phone in my hand. “Send me those photos she took.”
I looked him in the eyes, making sure he knew that I meant what I was about to say. “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“Of course. You’re my son,” he said.
I’d always been his son. But he’d proven time and time again that his job meant more to him than anything else. I was banking on that still being the case. “When do you think you’ll know something?”
“Let me make a few calls. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”
I nodded before standing and heading toward the office door.
“Let’s not go another year without seeing each other. Okay?” my father called.
“We’ll see.”
If he came through for me, maybe he wasn’t the complete asshole I always knew him to be. Maybe he was just an asshole.