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Her father eyed it. “What’s that?”
Miranda sighed.You really have no idea what’s coming, do you?She knew she could still back out, leave him in blissful ignorance. He was a big boy. It would be easier. But easier for whom? And for how long?
No, that’s not an option. Not when you know what you know.
“You’re not gonna like this,” she began, referring both to the fact that what she was about to tell him would shatter any illusions he might have about his new husband, but also because she’d have to inform him of how she’d gone behind his back, snooping deeply into the life of someone she knew he cared about.
She swallowed. Her mouth and throat were dry and she took a long swallow of water to help. “I hired a private detective.” She figured that action would be her first stumbling block. She expected a “How dare you?” but was surprised when he simply set down his sandwich, sat back, and regarded her with his head cocked. “You did?”
She nodded. “We needed to know more about Trey.”
“We?”
“Well, I did. I’m not blinded by love like some people I won’t mention.” She tried to smile, but imagined her attempt came out as sickly. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Something has seemed off about him since the moment we met. It didn’t help that when I, yes, snooped around a bit, I saw another name, Bruno Purdy, in his papers.”
Connor slid his plate over and placed his elbows on the table. “I know. I told you—Trey changed his name. Long story. He told me when we got married. We talked about that, Miranda.”
“I know we did. And if it was just that, Daddy, I wouldn’t be worried. Or at least not much.”
He sighed. “What worries you, sweetheart?”
She opened the folder.
“For one, did you know his family died in a suspicious house fire when he was a teenager? And he was the only one conveniently not home when the arson occurred? Because it was arson. The investigators never had enough evidence to prove who did it though.”
“Yeah, he told me about that too. And while it might have been convenient, as you put it, that he didn’t perish in the blaze, it had nothing to do with him. He was heartbroken and has been ever since. The loss scarred him for life. He can barely talk about it. It was his family.” He started to get up from the table, obviously shaken.
“Daddy! I didn’t want to upset you.”
He stood, not moving. “Really? You come here and tell me you hired a professional to look into the man I married and you expect me to be, what? Grateful? How about outraged? Because, honey, what this says is you have no faith in my judgment. Let alone what it says about how you look at my husband.”
Tears stood in his eyes.
Miranda debated whether she should get up and leave. Tell him they could talk later, after he had a chance to calm down. But she knew she would just be avoiding the difficulty of the conversation, so she persisted, as much as it hurt her and as much as she knew it would wound him.
Softly, she said, “I expected this. I knew you’d be upset, hurt, mad. But I also want you to understand I didn’t do this for kicks. I did it out of genuine concern. For you. You always told me to trust my gut, and that’s what I did. And I was right too. Because there’s more…” She opened the folder.
He eyed it. Was he a little paler than he was a moment ago? There were several sheets to the report and attached to it, copies of fake IDs and arrest records, convictions. What there wasnotwas evidence of a law degree. What there wasnotwas any known address for the past several years.
Of course, Connor couldn’t read the report or the attachments from across the room. She closed the folder. “Listen, obviously neither of us feels like eating anymore. I’m sorry you went to the trouble. It’ll all keep. Have it for dinner. Anyway, why don’t you go sit down, and I’ll clear the table?”
“And then what?”
“And then we take a walk along the Fremont cut. Just you and me. We talk. Let me tell you what I found. Keep an open mind; that’s all I ask. Well, actually it’s not all.Bearin mind, I was doing this because I love you so much. If I can prevent you from getting hurt, I can prevent myself from the same. Can you do that, Daddy? Can you give me this much? Just put aside your anger at me and listen?”
He sighed and gave no verbal response. He disappeared into his office.
Miranda set about clearing the table, certain he’d come with her. And knowing what she had to tell him should, at the very least, make him think twice.
THE CUT WASquiet on this weekday afternoon. After they passed out of Fremont proper, they were in an area that was mostly industrial shipping yards. Miranda always like the flavor of this area, its kind of seedy testimony to hard work and seafaring dreams. Chain-link fences, tall ships, the tang of sea air.
For a long while, Miranda simply walked alongside her father. If her nerves weren’t tingling and her stomach not churning, this could have been a pleasant stroll. The sky was cloudy but broken up with an almost electric shade of blue. The air was cool and crisp. A light breeze lifted her hair.
There was no way, really, to soften the blow of what she had to say. She was opening her mouth when Connor spoke.
“Spill it.” He sighed. “You went to all this trouble and expense, I imagine, so let’s hear it.”
“You sound so resigned, as if you already have your mind made up.”
