Page 56 of The Wedding Party

“Told you. Devious. Or smart, however, you want to look at it.”

There’s more grunting and a low grumble of, “Castle, damn it.”

“One minute, Frank,” he says. “It’s my daughter. You know how I feel about my daughter.” He returns to me. “Okay, Sugar Bear. Back to Danielle. You might have to go kung fu on the likes of her before this is over. Like you did that Nelson dude at Quantico.”

I frown because yes, Nelson got handsy with me. And yes, I put my knee in his groin and drove it to his throat, but I didn’t tell my father. “How do you know about that?”

“Friends in high places, daughter of mine. Too bad I heard it from them, not you, but I get it. You didn’t want me to beat the ass you already beat. Well, not the ass. I think you chose well. A man’s personal baggage is very, well, personal to him. In Danielle’s case, I’d punch her in the boob—just my opinion, but I do know a little about pain management.”

“Good Lord, Dad,” I groan, glancing out the window at the parking lot, where Mr. and Mrs. Phoenix are presently standing next to a car in an animated argument.

“Handle her, baby,” my father urges. “I know you can. Unless you want me to show up. I can handle her.”

I ignore that ridiculous offer, focused on the moment Mrs. Phoenix loses her regal carriage and shoves the hell out of her husband. “I need to go,” I say, hanging up, on alert in case I need to get involved with the Phoenixes’ dispute.

Mrs. Phoenix continues her assault on her husband, slapping him in the face, but he doesn’t react violently. He does grab her, but all he does is pull her into an embrace, hugging her as she sobs. My chest tightens, a flash of myself punching at my father after he told me my mother was dead. I blamed him for no good reason. Just in that moment, I needed to blame someone. And he did just what Mr. Phoenix is doing to his wife. My father held me and told me he loved me. He told me we’d get through the pain, but neither of us ever did. We’re both screwed up. He’s never remarried. I’ve never even considered getting that close to anyone.

But focused again on the here and now, I decide that Danielle isn’t my problem. The Phoenixes are. As they should be. The problem is that when powerful people need and want resolution, they tend to push in all the wrong ways. They tricked the staff into believing they were Carrie’s parents in order to see her.

I want to know what happened in that room between them and Carrie.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Danielle isn’t quick with Carrie.

After forty-five minutes of waiting, I send York back to the hotel to manage the interviews. I pass much of my wait at the nurses’ station, munching on way too many Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for my own good, but they are my favorite and I’m hungry. At some point, the doctor dodges me and heads into Carrie’s room, and he’s not quick, either. Obviously, Danielle has a plan, and it won’t be one that pleases me, but I’ll handle it and her.

At present, Carol, the head nurse, whose pink hair is twined neatly at her nape, is chatting with me about how shocked she was to find out that the Phoenixes were not the Reynolds family. “When I found out,” she explains, “I was terrified they’d hurt her.” She finishes that statement by hugging herself. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Because despite being in her midthirties, a decade into her career, she’s well seasoned by small-town standards.

Whatever happened in that room was not the expected, and my urgency to find out is rapidly growing. My answer might be coming soon, as Dr. Mendez exits the room, his gaze finding mine.

I push off the counter I’m leaning on and he’s in front of me quickly. “Agent Castle,” he greets me.

“Doctor,” I reply.

“Whatever happened to her was traumatic. I’ve spoken to Carrie’s parents, who are on their way, and I’m recommending a psychologist evaluate her before you talk to her.”

“At the parents’ request?”

“Mutual agreement,” he replies, avoiding a real answer. In other words, the evaluation is at Carrie’s attorney’s recommendation, but for good measure, it seems, he adds, “I believe this is in the best interest of her health.”

And Danielle’s best bet of setting up an insanity plea, I think. “When?” I ask.

“Soon. I called in a woman whose opinion I value. She’s driving in from Denver.”

“I’m going to need to review her credentials.”

He bristles. “She’s highly qualified.”

“I’m sure she is, but I have enough to charge Carrie. I’m about two seconds from doing so. If I’m holding back, I need to show those who will be pressuring me to take that action why I’m holding back.” I hand him my card. “Please email me her credentials. When will she arrive?”

“Not until about eight p.m., which I understand is the timeline for Carrie’s parents to arrive as well.”

I glance at my watch. “It’s five now. When the counselor is done, it will be closer to ten.”

“I would agree with that timeline. It’s inconvenient but necessary.”

Is it necessary? I think. Maybe. Maybe not.