Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Mason steered into a parking spot alongside the hotel and turned to Vivi, who was in the process of unbuckling her seat belt.
“I go first. Stay behind me and to the left,” he instructed.
She threw a bewildered look his way. “Seriously? You think he’s going to attack me or something?”
Mason thought the guy was either completely full of crap or out of his mind.
But if Vivi wanted to give him a shot, then that’s what they were going to do.
It didn’t mean he was going to be happy about it or slack off.
He had no idea what the guy’s agenda was.
This whole thing could be some kind of trap, and he refused to put Vivi in danger.
The guy had been casing the house; who knew what he would have done if they weren’t there? Mason’s bike was in the garage next to Vivi’s car, so it looked like no one was home. If she’d been there alone… Christ, he couldn’t fathom. Fury surged through his veins.
“I never joke about your safety. Despite what he told us earlier, we don’t know anything about him,” he said firmly.
That was another issue he planned to rectify soon. As soon as they got to Vantage in the morning, he would have Vivi run background checks on both Tyler and whoever this Russ guy was.
Vivi stared at him for a second, then finally nodded. “All right, you win.”
Mason smirked. “I like that you say that like you have a choice.”
One dark brow lifted. “You’re such a jerk.”
He winked at her as he settled his hand on her thigh and squeezed. “Bet your pretty behind. Now, let’s get this over with so we can get back to bed.”
After Tyler had dropped that last bomb—that he assumed Russ, his father, was dead—he insisted they come to the hotel so he could prove it.
Mason had no idea what they were going to find inside, and a huge part of him didn’t really care.
If the guy had knocked up his fifteen-year-old stepdaughter, he probably deserved whatever had happened to him.
So, here they were, a little after midnight. Mason didn't trust this guy as far as he could throw him, and he was more than a little cranky about the whole situation. Vivi seemed intent on listening to his explanation though, and he owed it to her to at least give him half an hour of their time.
His Smith & Wesson was warm and familiar at his lower back, and though Vivi had given him a sharp look when he tucked it into his waistband, he didn't care.
He never went anywhere without it, and he wasn't going to start now.
Besides, he wasn't entirely convinced that this guy wasn't mentally unbalanced.
Mason made his way around the car and opened the door for her.
He wasn’t about to drag her around on his bike in the middle of the night, so they’d opted to take her car instead.
Once she was on her feet, he locked up again and tucked her partially behind his body as they made their way toward the seedy hotel.
Tyler must've seen them coming, because he flung the door open seconds later.
The inside of the room was lit up like a beacon, which seemed to be a good omen at least.
Mason still wasn't exactly sure what they were doing here in the middle of the night. All he knew was that when Vivi got an idea in her head, it was almost impossible to get her to veer from her course. He’d tried to tell her no fewer than a dozen times on the way over that they could do this tomorrow—or, you know, never—but she’d insisted they at least check out what he had to say.
Keeping his eyes forward, he directed his voice over his shoulder, just loud enough that Vivi could hear him. “You owe me for this.”
She slipped her hand into his and gave it a little squeeze. He stepped into the hotel room first, still shielding Vivi with his body as he turned to Tyler. “Show us what you've got.”
Tyler closed and locked the door, then strode across the room to a small table in the corner that doubled as a desk. Mason was momentarily stupefied by the number of post-its and newspaper clippings stuck to the wall around it.
“I've been going through everything I can think of,” Tyler started. “The last address listed for Russ was in Orlando.”
Mason nodded, playing along. “Not the worst choice.” It was close enough that he could come back and visit if he wanted, but far enough away to start fresh. “So I'm assuming he wasn't at home when you went to visit him?”
“Not just that,” Tyler replied. “The address listed on the paperwork doesn't even exist.”
Vivi's hand tensed where it still rested in Mason's. “How is that possible?”
Tyler gave a little shrug and picked up a paper on the desk, then passed it to Mason.
“Remember that inheritance I told you about?” Neither of them bothered to answer the rhetorical question, and Tyler continued.
“I used a little bit of it to hire a private investigator before I came here. This is everything he was able to dig up on the man.”
Mason scanned the list as Tyler spoke. “The phone number goes to an automated message that states the number is no longer in service, and the physical address is literally nonexistent. I went to Orlando myself to try to find it. It's a rundown old building.”
“Doesn’t mean he didn't live there at one point,” Mason countered.
Tyler shook his head. “For the past thirty-six years it was a delicatessen. The owner passed away last winter, and it's been empty ever since.”
Interesting. “What about family and friends?”
“I've talked to a few, but no one has seen or heard from him.”
He picked up another sheet of paper and passed it to Vivi. “According to state records, this is when the divorce was finalized. When did you move in with Ellen?”
“Summertime,” she said softly as she skimmed the paper. “It was right after school let out and Knox went into the Marines.”
Tyler nodded. “The records show the divorce paperwork was filed almost six months after that, in the middle of winter. It was finalized soon after.”
Her eyes lifted to him, filled with confusion. “I don't understand. Why would she not say anything about him?”
Tyler lifted one shoulder. “I don't know. But there has to be a reason.”
“Maybe they separated after Christine’s suicide,” Mason offered.
Vivi tipped her head to one side like she was considering every angle. She drifted toward the table and began to sift through some of the papers. “It just makes no sense. She never once mentioned him, and there was no trace of him—or any man—in the house that I could ever remember.”
“It's like he just vanished,” Tyler agreed.
“He could have wanted to just disappear,” Mason said, playing Devil’s advocate. Granted, it would be hard to not leave some kind of footprint these days, but nothing was impossible.
“Still,” Vivi insisted as she riffled through the papers. “Why wait that long to divorce him? And why—?”
Mason watched intently as she cut off midsentence, her entire body going rigid. She held up a small picture and showed it to Tyler. “Who is this?”
“That's Russ.”
Her eyes flew to Mason’s. “That's him.”
Mason's brows drew together as he watched a thousand emotions flitted across her face. “It’s who, babe?”
“Russ,” Tyler reiterated at the same time Vivi spoke.
“The man from my dreams.”
Mason stiffened. “Do you think that's him?”
She nodded shakily. “That's definitely him. Maybe…” One hand flew to her throat. “Maybe it wasn't a dream. Maybe it was…”
A memory. She didn’t have to say the words out loud, but Mason knew that was exactly what she was thinking.
The heat of fury raced over his body. If Russ had abused and impregnated Christine, then come after Vivi…
Red clouded his vision as the implication sank in.
“That could very well explain why he's gone.”
Tyler's gaze bounced between the two of them. “What happened?”
Vivi still looked unsettled, so Mason spoke up for her. “Ever since Vivi moved back into the house, she's been having a dream about a strange man approaching her. Now that we know who he is…”
Tyler's eyes widened. “You think it was Russ.”
Mason eased Vivi against his side, curling his fingers into her hip as she leaned into him. “What else happened in your dream?”
She shook her head, lost in thought. “I… I don’t know. It never finishes. It’s like my mind just cuts off.”
Had something terrible happened to Vivi, something so horrible that she’d shut it out?
Mason prayed not. The thought had his stomach roiling.
If her dream was actually a repressed memory, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened afterward.
And if Ellen had discovered that he'd raped Christine, then come after Vivi, could she have been pushed to take drastic measures?
Mason knew what he would've done if it were his daughter, but he didn’t say that aloud.
“Maybe he was murdered,” he finally conceded.
“By who?” Vivi asked. “I don't think Ellen could do it.”
“Maybe not by herself,” Tyler stated slowly, “but maybe she knows who did.”
Tyler and Mason exchanged a look over Vivi's head. One thing was for certain—they had to talk to Ellen.