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If I truly wanted to never be a colorless flower, I had to face it all.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Brad
“I’m fine. I just freaked out over Patty for a bit.” Daphne cuddled baby Joe in her arms.
I wasn’t convinced, but at least she was back.
“Go ahead,” I said to Ennis. “Use my office, like I said. I’ll stay with Daphne.”
He nodded and left the room.
“Baby,” I said. “I’m so sorry about Patty.”
“We’ll find her.”
“I truly hope so, but you need to face the possibility that we won’t.”
“I can’t lose another friend, Brad. I already lost one. My best friend in high school moved away and I never saw her again.”
“I know,” I said. “You’ve told me.”
Her eyebrows shot up then. “Brad!”
“What, baby?”
“You can find Sage for me!”
My mouth dropped open.
Sage. Daphne didn’t know the truth.
And I couldn’t tell her.
All I could say was, “I’ll try, baby. I’ll try.”
She smiled. God, she was radiant. And her eyes—that look in her eyes that said, Thank you, Brad. I believe in you. I know you’ll find her.
I felt like a piece of shit.
“Thank you, Brad. You’ll find Patty, and you’ll find Sage. I know you wouldn’t let anything happen to my friends.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The lie lodged in my throat.
I couldn’t find Sage.
But I’d do my damnedest to find Patty.
I just hoped she was alive when I found her.
Once Daphne and baby Joe had fallen asleep, I returned to my study. The files were still splayed out on my desk. Ennis had come in here to call Patty’s parents. Had he looked at any of these documents? If he had, he didn’t say anything to me.
He’d probably been too focused on telling his girlfriend’s parents that she was missing.
He’d gone straight to his room after that.
I doubted he was sleeping. I considered knocking and asking him if he wanted a drink but then decided against it.
He needed to be alone with his worry.
As did I.
I was worried not simply about Patty but also about Daphne. Could I lie to her? Tell her I’d exhausted every resource at my disposal and still hadn’t found Sage?
Would she believe it?
She didn’t know the kind of power my money wielded. Indeed, I hadn’t known myself until I saw my father in action with Dr. Pelletier. A normal person who pulled a gun would be arrested.
George Steel hadn’t been a normal person. His money had protected him.
His money—which was now my money.
I could tell Daphne, after a few months, that Sage had disappeared. After all, eight months had passed since Murphy’s death, and I was no closer to an explanation.
I eyed the open files on the desk. Was the answer in here somewhere?
And if so…where? Where to begin?
I sighed. The answer to Murph’s death wasn’t in these files. My father had only been gone a month. If the answer lay here, he’d have uncovered it.
Unless…
Unless he hadn’t wanted to uncover it. Unless my father had known all along…
No.
He was an asshole, but he was loyal to me. He wouldn’t have had a friend of mine killed, and he certainly wouldn’t have helped someone else do it.
Would he?
This was a man who’d pounded on his wife because she couldn’t give him more children.
This was a man who’d forced his young son to watch a beloved calf be slaughtered.
This was a man who’d held a psychiatrist at gunpoint.
This was a man who’d probably committed myriad more unspeakable acts that I couldn’t even begin to fathom.
Acts I could probably find in these files.
Fear gripped the back of my neck.
These files held secrets. My father’s secrets.
These files could help me…
They could also hinder me. The fear gripping me wasn’t of what my father had done, but what the knowledge of what he’d done would ultimately do to me.
Power.
My father had power—power that was now mine to wield.
Power could do a lot of good in the world, if a person handled it well.
Most people didn’t. Power often led to corruption.
Had that happened to my father?
Temptation hung over me—temptation to take all my father’s private files out back and burn them in a huge bonfire. Hell, I could roast marshmallows over it and make s’mores. I’d never had a s’more before. My father never took me camping. No one had.
The thought was comforting, but that was all it was—a thought.
I couldn’t do it. I needed this information. I needed to know what I was dealing with.
With no more hesitation, I chose a file at random.
Jonathan Wade.
Daphne’s father.
What did George Steel have on him?
I opened the manila folder. First was his birth certificate. Then his marriage certificates to both Lisa, Larry’s mother, and Lucy. His employment records. One arrest record—a DUI when Daphne was a toddler. He’d lost his driver’s license for six months. Funny, he still drank. Though he did seem to hold his liquor well. Hell, after what his daughter and now his wife had been through, he probably didn’t drink nearly enough.
