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“I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t stop him,” Coleman’s secretary calls out, sounding as if she’s seconds away from having a heart attack.
“It’s okay, Danica. He can come in.”
I watch as the secretary dips her chin, then turns and shuffles away. She’s a nice lady, single and in her fifties. Never been married, as far as I know. She’s also very attached to her three cats, which is a cliché, but she makes fun of herself. She’s funny, and it’s nice having her around the office, considering the rest of us, minus Hendrick, are serious and grouchy most of the fucking time.
“Ray,” Coleman calls out. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Coleman is full of shit. He knows why Ray is here, and so do I, but neither of us lets on. Murder has no statute of limitations, and although the government and the police are all in our pockets, it’s better that we don’t flaunt any of the things we do during the night hours.
“Where is my daughter?” Ray demands.
Coleman lifts his hand to his chin, moving it from side to side as if he’s thinking hard about the question. I almost laugh, but I know it won’t go over well, so instead, I lift my cup to my lips again and take another drink as I watch the show before me.
“Shiloh?” Coleman asks.
Ray growls, taking a few steps forward, no doubt meant to intimidate Coleman, but it doesn’t work. Nothing about Ray is intimidating. I’ve seen the man cry like a fucking bitch. Coleman doesn’t stand, although I keep waiting for him to, but he acts as if he is completely and totally disinterested in this whole thing.
“Yes, where is she?” he demands.
Coleman looks at me, lifting his brows, then shifts his gaze over to Ray. “Am I supposed to know this?” he asks. “I haven’t seen her in weeks.”
“Weeks?” Ray asks. “You’re a liar.”
Wrong. Thing. To. Say.
At those words, at that challenge, Coleman stands straight at attention and slams his palms down on his black walnut wood desk. I watch, taking in the whole moment and wondering how in the fuck Ray thought this shit would ever fly.
Calling Coleman a fucking liar is the last thing I would ever do, but it did get his attention. Which is what Ray was going for.
“A what?” Coleman asks, giving him a second chance.
“A liar,” Ray hisses.
If Coleman could kill him and it wouldn’t fuck with the building escrow, I think he would right fucking now. But he can’t. I watch as the realization of the deal, of Ray’s part in it, flashes across his face. Then he sinks down in his chair, replacing the expression of anger with one of mild humor, which is totally fucking fake.
“She came to me, but it was days ago, and I sent her away,” Coleman murmurs. “Thank fuck I did, too.”
“Where is she?” Ray asks on a whisper.
Coleman shakes his head. “Don’t know,” he whispers.
Ray takes a step backward, his gaze flicking from me to Coleman, then back to me. “What do you know?” he asks, focusing on me.
Lifting my head slightly, I watch him for a moment. I don’t say anything immediately. Rising to my feet, I lift my coffee to my lips and take a drink. I can hear Coleman in the back of my head, screaming at me to shut the fuck up.
I’m not a good listener.
Ever.
“All I know is that Dean Hamilton is Shiloh’s biological father, and you are not. Which makes her first cousin to Coleman here. And me. Which means Coleman and Shiloh were fucking each other but are also first cousins. I don’t know where she is, but maybe she ran away because of that?”
Ray’s eyes widen, and he takes a step backward, then another, his back slamming against the closed office door. He knows… he knew. That much is clear, and he didn’t tell Shiloh. What a piece of shit. He was pushing for the marriage to Coleman, too.
I thought that maybe he was innocent in all of this, but it’s apparent he wasn’t. If I could slit his throat right now, I would.
“You hurt her,” he hisses.
Coleman stands and walks around his desk to stand between Ray and me. “Nobody hurt Shiloh.”
