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No. She wasn’t going to deal with that ’til she absolutely had to.
She rummaged around. Found thirty dollars in Sean’s muddy cargo pants. If the gas tank was full, she just might make it. She wound her hair up, tugged on the blond wig, perched sunglasses on her nose.
Now for Sean. She poked out a text message on the cell phone.
found the flash drive, i hope EF Public Library
Historic Collection Room
Look behind book with call# 920.0797 B63
knock yrself out love liv
TellingSean about her father was pointless. He’d be frantic at the idea of her going alone. She felt like she was betraying him by running away from the haven he’d found for her, but that was too bad.
Saying goodbye to Daddy was worth the risk.
It shouldn’t even be that much of a risk. She was in a car no one knew she had. On a road no one knew she was using. Arriving at a public building in broad daylight, met by a police escort, surrounded by her family. She was in sexy designer clothes. Blond, for God’s sake.
Her own mother wouldn’t know her.
CHAPTER24
Sean cast an approving glance over Miles and his brothers as they waited in the muted, hushed elegance of the Helix reception area.
Not bad, he thought. They cleaned up nice. Sean’s Ferragamo suit was too wide in the shoulders for Connor, but only a gay man would notice. Davy in his own Brooks Brothers suit had a stodgy, don’t-fuck-with-me-or-I’ll-club-you-over-the-head-with-my-stock-portfolio style happening, and Miles looked hot and hungry in Sean’s gray Armani. With his hair gelled back and the mirror sunglasses, the kid looked like a cross between a prosperous young gangster and a human sports car.
With all the crap eating at his nerves, still it did his heart good to see those slobs spiffed up. The only false note in this pageant of male sartorial splendor was the scabby bruises on his own battered mug.
The phone in his jacket pocket let out a soft chirp. He pulled it out to check. Message from Liv. He pulled up the text. Read it. Stared.
“Holy fucking shit,” he said, in a loud, carrying voice.
“Shhh,” Davy hissed, as the receptionist gave him a snooty look.
“What is it?” Con snapped, under his breath.
“Liv’s cracked the code. She’s found Kev’s flash drive.” His low voice felt strangled in his throat. “She says they’re at the public library.”
Everybody’s jaws flopped, in the direction of the mauve rug.
In the stupefied silence, the receptionist spoke. “Mr. Urness? Mr. Parrish will see you and your party now. Marta will show you the way.”
A stunning trophy secretary, blond, of course, greeted them with a brilliant smile, and gestured for them to follow her through the plush office complex. Wow. Deep carpets, picture windows, aromatherapy. Mosaic this, feng shui that. A fake waterfall bubbled away in a wall alcove.
The muted tones of mauve and cream made him feel sedated.
The blonde was twitching her taut, perky ass in the pencil slim skirt for their benefit. He fastened his eyes onto its jerky, back and forth sway, thinking about the peach-like contours of Liv’s ass. How he loved to grip her hips, sink his aching prong into that slick heaven between her thighs. And she was a freaking genius, as well as a sizzling sex bomb. She’d solved the puzzle. Hot damn. What an amazing woman.
He jerked himself back to reality as the blonde gestured them into a big corner office, like a game show hostess displaying their prize.
Charles Parrish was a distinguished guy, with silver hair. He shook Davy’s hand, then Con’s, then Miles’s. Sean hung back, avoiding the guy’s gaze until the very last moment. Then he gripped Parrish’s hand and stared into his face. “Hello, Mr. Parrish. Remember me?”
He saw it, in an instant. The smile went rigid, the flutter in the eyelids, the change in lip color. The involuntary tug as the guy sought to free his hand. Sean let him go. He’d learned what he needed to know.
“What are you…” Parrish looked around at the rest of them, confused. “Who are you? I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you from anywhere, Mr…? Please, refresh my memory.”
Sean sighed. Another lying rat bastard with something to hide.
