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“One died. One was returned. One was rescued.”
Henry’s head tilted. “Who did the rescuing? Was it any bodyguard that I might know?”
“Cut the shit or I walk out of the door right now.”
But Henry merely shrugged. “I never agreed to talk to you about this Bowie person. I don’t know him. Perhaps he thought he knew me. Maybe he even thought he was following my orders. He wasn’t. Because, despite what you may believe about me, I wouldn’t want you hurt.”
“I’ve got six scars on my throat and jaw that say otherwise.”
***
“What scars?” Alina asked. Her head whipped toward Terrance. “I haven’t seen scars.”
“They’re covered by the beard. Midas started growing the beard shortly after he got out of the hospital.” Terrance kept his stare on the scene beyond the glass. “Henry didn’t exactly surrender with open arms when it was time for his arrest. Midas and FBI Agent Oliver Foxx tried to take him down, but Henry was ready. He tried to slit Midas’s throat. Viewed what Midas was doing as a betrayal, even though Henry had set up his son. Midas fought back. Those two big bastards battled like it was a war. Midas didn’t even realize how many times he’d been sliced until it was all over.”
Her horrified gaze went back to the interrogation room.
“Henry is not exactly big on fatherly emotion. Or emotion of any sort,” Terrance added.
Xander cleared his throat. “I believe my client has expressed his remorse for those actions. He was under a great deal of stress at the time and didn’t even realize what he was doing to his son.”
She was sure that Henry always realized what he was doing.
Henry’s gaze flickered to the glass. To her. He sent her that faint smile again.
He doesn’t see me. He doesn’t.
Maybe if she told herself that enough, she’d believe it.
***
“I am sorry.” Henry released a long sigh. “My shrink has told me that I need to take responsibility for my actions. Let people know I have caused them harm and that I regret their pain. It’s the only way for me to grow as a person.”
“You don’t regret anyone’s pain.” He glanced at his watch. “Can we cut through the bullshit? Either tell me something useful or I’m walking.”
“I don’t know your Bowie Dodge. He thinks he knows me, obviously. He’s wrong. Perhaps someone was playing a game with him.”
Midas pulled the sleeve of his coat to cover the watch. He turned his attention back to his father. The man didn’t exactly look as if he’d been wasting away in a prison cell. Quite the opposite. It appeared as if he’d been spending twenty-four, seven shifts in a gym. “You said you’d reveal the location of the first vic.” Deliberately, he shifted the topic off Bowie. Midas had learned—long ago—that the best way to get Herny to slip up was to catch him off guard. He’d come back to Bowie in a few minutes. Try to catch his father in a weak moment. “I’m here. I did my part.”
“Yes, you did. I have missed you.” Henry’s sharp stare swept over Midas’s face. “Have you missed me?”
“No.”
“Do you remember when you were little…how we’d have such great adventures? Surfing in California. Hiking the Grand Canyon. Skiing in Colorado.”
“Do I remember that we barely stayed in any town longer than a few weeks? That we were always on the move? Living out of tents or cheap motel rooms?” He nodded. “Yes, I remember that. Didn’t realize until much later that we stayed on the move so much because you were hunting. Killing women.”
“I had fun surfing with you. My life wasn’t just about murder.”
“No kidding?”
“You’ve turned hard, Midas. Bitter.”
“Yeah, well what did you expect—”
“I like it.”
Fuck. He didn’t want his father to like anything about him.
