There must be some way that Sam senses my train of thought through the bond, because then he’s giving my ass a swat. I yelp, drawing looks from all three members of the Monroe family.
“Sorry,” I give a sheepish smile, “there was a…bee.”
“I saw it,” Sam nods seriously, “believe me, it washuge.”
“Oh,” Christopher and Whitney suddenly look very concerned, glancing around the parking lot. “Let’s not wait for it to return. Come on, West, we’ll sit in the back with you.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re on a dirt road in the middle of some small forest that I had no idea existed.
“So…how long have you been friends with this…Mr. Olivier?” I try to sound as clueless as possible. “It seems odd that he would disappear off the map, but you would know where he is.”
“He started coming around when I was…ten or so.” West’s brows furrow. “But he stopped a few years later. I didn’t realize you were still so close.”
“Turn left up here,” Christopher calls out from his seat in the back.
Whitney is wedged between her husband and son, looking at me as she thinks over her answer. “Well, Christopher and Isaac Thornfield met in college, and they worked at a firm together before Isaac took over his father’s business.”
Christopher nods. “Roland came on as an intern shortly after he started college. Despite our age difference, we really grew close—like we were his older brothers. It was as if we had known each other our whole lives.”
Whitney gives a sad smile. “For about three years, they were inseparable. Boys’ trips to the cabin by the lake, poker nights…” She trails off wistfully. “The three of them were very good friends until Isaac and Roland had a falling out. We’re not sure exactly what happened, but it was around twenty years ago. Actually, now that I think of it, everything happened right around the time he started seeing Naomi.”
We continue along the dirt road, passing trees and overgrown paths.
“How come West didn’t know his daughter growing up then?” I might be asking too many questions, but there has to be more to the story than they’re letting on. “Wouldn’t him seein’ her be a…conflict of interest?”
“We…alsohad a falling out around the same time,” Christopher admits. “But we reconnected about ten years ago. By that time, Weston was already out of the house, and Roland and Naomi were on the rocks.” Then he swiftly changes the subject. “How were you seeing Adela? Was it privately?” Christopher frowns, looking at West. “I didn’t think to ask at the time, but I didn’t know you were allowed to see private patients while employed at Thornfield. Were you doing video-calls?”
So they don’t knowanything.
West shifts uncomfortably. “You know I can’t tell you that, Dad. Patient confidentiality and all that.”
“I’m just curious,” Christopher harrumphs. “Roland said she went off to college, but he hasn’t visited her once.”
I keep my mouth shut. The need to turn around and tell them why—because Roland Olivier is a no-good asshole who committed his pregnant teenage daughter into an insane asylum to keep her in line—burns in my throat, but if they really know nothing, we need to keep it that way. I’m just hoping we can keep his parents away from his and West’s conversation enough for us to communicate what we need from him.
“Are you still in contact with Mr. Thornfield?” I ask innocently. Really, I’m pretty proud of myself. You’d have no idea I was a resident at that man’s facility less than a month ago.
“We are still very good friends, yes.” Christopher puffs up his chest. “In fact, we allow him to use our house for his monthly board meetings. You know he’s the grandson of the founder ofthe Asylum? And all he’s doing to help those poor souls. He really is a great man.”
Shit. They think they’re lending their house out for a board meeting, when in reality they’re hosting a bunch of beta supremacists.
“Are you present for those meetings?” Sam takes the question out of my mouth. If they stay home, I have no idea how they wouldn’t know the true nature of the meetings.
Nobody else catches it, but West holds his breath.
“Oh, no!” Whitney lays a hand over her heart. “Isaac pays for us to go on a date every time so we aren’t bored out of our minds. Like Christopher said, he’s a great man.”
Of course.
As discreetly as possible, I spy West in the rearview mirror. It’s almost like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, having the confirmation that his parents are unaware of everything going on.
“So what are you doing for your next date?” West’s question seems completely innocent, but I know what he’s doing—trying to find out when the next meeting is.
“We’re going to Chateau Le Blanc,” Whitney says dreamily. “They have the loveliest selection of hors d'œuvres. You know, reservations are so hard to get—I had to make this one three weeks ago! Just for next Thursday evening—”
The day after our deadline from Xavier. That could work.
“Another left up here, Sam,” Christopher cuts in, “and then down a little ways, it’s on your left.”
