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"I'm thinking," he said.
Edgar Chandler had set Eden on him, under his Jon Childs alias. The question was: Why? For answers? For help? For revenge? Any of the three was equally possible, but since the Cwn Annwn had silenced Chandler, he wasn't about to find out. The equally pressing--and more disturbing--question was whether the Huntsmen knew Chandler had set Eden on him. If their hounds came sniffing around, his game was in serious jeopardy.
"Hold on to her number," he said. "I may have you call her. Until then, I can handle things."
CHAPTER TEN
What's on the agenda for the rest of the day?" I asked Gabriel as we drove off.
"Nothing until tonight."
My hand gripped the armrest. "Todd."
"I trust that's still all right? We can reschedule for tomorrow, but they have evening visiting hours on Tuesdays, which seemed convenient."
I forced myself to say tonight was fine. He studied me for a moment, then said, "We'll head back to the office. There's work to do, unrelated to Chandler or the Larsen case."
"Real work. That job you have, which I keep distracting you from."
"Don't apologize."
"I wasn't--"
"Not in words, but it was cle
ar from your tone. Apology suggests that you are keeping me from doing what I need to do, which implies I am somehow powerless to do otherwise. It's a choice, Olivia."
"I know."
"Then I would appreciate it, when I mention other cases, that you refrain from experiencing any twinge of guilt."
"How can I refrain from experiencing something?"
"You simply need to put your mind to it."
--
Dinner passed far too quickly, and before I knew it I was back at the office, in the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
Will my father recognize me?
It was a silly question. My picture had been in every Illinois paper and plenty beyond. There was no way Todd Larsen hadn't seen it. But that wasn't what I meant.
Will he look at me and see a stranger?
I could tell myself I was going to see my biological father, a man with no more connection to me than DNA. But it was complete and utter bullshit. For twenty-two years of my life, I'd forgotten Todd Larsen. But I hadn't forgotten him. My first dad.
I barely swung to the toilet before losing my dinner.
Well, I guess, as similes go, that one was about perfect.
I knelt on the floor, gasping and gagging.
"Olivia?"
"I'm fine."
I gasped and gagged more quietly.
