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"What I mean is that I can’t even sign over any of Mom’s trust to any account to save his business because he’s already made the decision and screwed us over. And he did it this morning!”
I run my hand through my hair; none of this makes sense … us being called here … everything Daniel's told us. He made it sound like he was fucking desperate for the money and that he needed us to agree for it all to go through. If he needed our agreement, why did he tie up the funds?
“This morning?” I ask. “But after what happened…” I trail off and Karen finishes my thoughts.
“After we were all together and so happy the first thing he did was screw us.”
“After everything that happened?" What the fuck does any of this mean?
“Exactly!”
What the fuck is Daniel up to?
Has he been pulling the wool over our eyes this whole fucking time? He's been making it sound like he needed money for the company, but now I’m wondering if the company needs the money at all.
There’s only one way to find out. If we go to his office, we can see for ourselves. It’s been over a year since I’ve been there, but I still remember how to get there.
“Get in the car!”
I don’t need to tell her twice. I can see the hurt and confusion in her eyes. She’s feeling completely fucking used.
“What are you going to do?” she asks as she clicks her seatbelt into place and I start the engine. I suspect that she thinks I’ll punch Daniel right in the face and ask questions later. But if that's what she's thinking, she's fucking wrong. And no, it's not because I've grown soft. Fighting just isn’t on the agenda.
“We’re going to talk to him," I say, calmly. "Find out what he’s up to.”
Then I turn the wheel and back the fuck out of the driveway. If we're going to do any talking, we need to get to Daniel’s office in record time. I'm not sure when he's going to leave the office for the day, and I'll be fucking pissed if we miss him. This isn't something that can be handled in a series of text messages. We need to talk face-to-face.
“Maybe we're being too hasty," Karen says after a few minutes of silence. She's been looking out the window, deep in thought. "There could be a perfectly good explanation for all of this.”
"I thought you were pissed about all of this?" I ask. I’m driving like a bat out of hell because if I'm being honest, I’m fucking pissed right now.
“Please slow down!” she screeches, bracing herself when I accidentally run a red light.
I turn to look at her, and her eyes are firmly shut. Fuck, she’s right, I don’t need to scare the shit out of her. Besides, getting there quicker won’t solve the problem. Nor will getting into an accident. My head’s spinning out of control. I'm thinking about everything Daniel's told us until this point … the pleas for help … and of course the way that he was in the bedroom.
“Has everything really just been a big fucking lie?”
She’s shaking her head. “I don’t know Colt. You’ve known him a lot longer than I have. And I don't have any answers. What do you think of it all?”
As we stop at a light, I turn to look at her. I have to tell her the truth. “I don’t know Karen. That’s the truth. I’m in as much shock as you are at the moment.”
That’s an honest statement from my heart. She puts her hand on my leg and says, “I believe you. I’m not sure if it will make a difference what he says.”
She has a good point; how will we know if his explanation isn’t another lie? He seems to be good at that; maybe being with Clara has changed him in ways we're only now learning about.
“I was thinking the same thing. At this point, with your meeting at Mr. William's office, the evidence is pretty fucking damning. What could he say to change things?”
She’s quiet, probably pondering my words. Then I hear her phone vibrate. “Shit, he’s calling me.”
“Karen, don’t pick it up. We’re nearly there. Just five minutes and we’ll be there.”
She nods her head and then she points ahead as we get near Daniel’s parking spot.
“That’s weird.”
“What is?”
“His car should be here, but I don't see it.”
I shake my head, “Maybe he's parked somewhere else. He wasn't home, so he should be here." I'm trying to stay positive.
“I'm not so sure," she says, scanning the parking lot.
Karen could be right. It’s a bit too much of a coincidence. Then it starts to hit home. What if we don't get the chance to talk to him?
I decide that there’s only one way to settle this whole thing, “Let’s go see if he's in his office.”
