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“So you’re a thief?”
The name had been a barb that stung back when I was younger, but I took it in right now to save my neck. “Yes.”
He cocked his eyebrow at me. “You don’t look like a thief.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” I said. “You can run a proper background check on me if you want. I changed my name and everything, so it would need to be a proper deep dive. I have a rap sheet like you wouldn’t believe.”
And then he did something unpredictable. He smiled.
“Do you?” he said in a voice that slithered throughout my body and grabbed me by the throat.
“Yes.”
“Is that how the cops convinced you to put on this little shtick? By telling you they’ll wipe your record clean?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Now let me put my cards out on the table so you can see how serious I am.” He stalked closer. I took a step back, but he kept coming toward me until my back was against the wall, and he was in my face. Then, he took it one step further and caged me in with one hand. “Let me put it like this. I know you’re working with the police as an informant, and I know you have nothing on me yet. I also know I could kill you right now and stuff your body in the dirt somewhere, and no one would find it.”
My heart dropped, but at the same time, adrenaline filled me. I would fight him. I didn’t care if it was useless. I would still fight.
“Luckily, I’m not a murderer,” he said. “The FBI thinks I am, but they’ve got it all wrong. And I’m not going to hurt you either as long as you tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“A will. Did your father leave one?”
I scrunched my nose. “What?”
“Did he send you a letter or anything telling you about a will?”
“A letter…” I murmured, remembering the one I’d found amongst the things mailed from my mom’s old house, the house we lost to the bank. The letter was dated months ago. My dad had sent it to me before his death, but I never opened it. I figured he’d gotten sentimental during the last months of his life and wanted to apologize for not being a good father to me or some other nonsense.
I didn’t care, and I wasn’t interested in any of that. I kept the letter somewhere in storage with the rest of my crap and never opened it.
But why was Chris trying to find out about it?
“Why?” I asked, arching my brow in curiosity.
“No reason. Just curious,” he said offhandedly.
But I got the feeling he was lying and that the letter was more important than I realized. In fact, I realized that during all our conversations, he kept bringing up my father and that damn letter.
What was in the letter? Perhaps incriminating information on him?
Did he have something to do with my dad’s death?
“I don’t know about any letter or will,” I said. “Last I checked, my father was broke as a churchmouse. And broke people don’t leave wills.”
Without saying anything, he just stared at me for a long time as though trying to uncover all my secrets.
10
CHRIS
I watched her eyes darken, her lips tightening at the corners. Fear had her pulse racing, but I saw the courageous fire peek through as well. She clenched her fists, and I knew that whatever happened, she wouldn’t go down easily.
She was going to fight me to the death if she needed to. I had to admire that.
