Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 63139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
I swallow. Hearing it, out loud, only makes my fears more real.
“What?” I ask, my voice shaky.
He studies me. “You tellin’ me you didn’t know about that?”
“I didn’t know about that. I mean, I wondered if he had something to do with it because of some things he’s said, but I had no idea the police were looking at him.”
Remy exhales. “Sit down, kid. Let’s talk.”
We go over to a customer waiting bench and sit down.
“Heard that someone tipped the police off that your father was the one to pick up Constance that night. I’m not sure if it was a sighting or if they just know he was with her at some point, but either way, it led them to him. The last cell phone ping was near enough to your house for the cops to believe it. They questioned him, and as far as I know, they’re going to do a search of your house.”
“On what grounds?” I ask, shaking my head in confusion.
“I don’t know, all I know is someone tipped them off. Obviously, someone who knows enough for them to believe it.”
I close my eyes for a minute. Makes sense, and Dad was accusing Brad, but it wouldn’t have been Brad who told them because he has too much to lose. So who the hell told them?
“Do you believe it’s him?” Remy asks me.
“I have my suspicions,” I say, quietly.
“Well, you’re no doubt goin’ to get answers soon because there is an investigation goin’ on and they’re going to come for him.”
I take a deep breath in.
Not if the club goes down for it.
That’s exactly why he wants me to plant something here, because he knows that if I do, the club will go down and he’ll get away with it.
Whatever he gives me, I have to be very careful with it.
One thing is for sure, though. I won’t say a word until I’ve got that package in my hands. Because that’s what will determine the fate of everyone.
“Thanks, for finding out,” I say, distracted.
“We can help you,” Remy tells me. “The club can help if there’s more you’re not tellin’ me. You don’t have to be involved in this.”
I look to him. “I’m not involved. Whatever my father has done, it’s on him. I just want to know what that is.”
“We can help you find out.”
I nod, standing. “I need a minute.”
I go into the female bathroom and close the door, closing my eyes and focusing for just a second when I get in there. I need to think. The club can help me, and if I’m not careful, I could get tangled up in this. I don’t want to get tangled up in it. I just want to know what happened to that poor girl.
I’ll find out.
I just have to be very careful how I go about it.
I wonder if I could talk to her family, her parents, find out something ... but then anything they’ve shared has no doubt been shared with the police, too. If they had solid evidence, they would have arrested my father.
There must be something.
Someone has to know something.
I make a note to myself, tonight, when I go home I’m going to see what I can find out.
I’m going to ask my father what he knows.
I’m going to see if he’ll tell me the truth, or if he’ll sell me another lie.
I’m tired of the lies.
It’s my time to shine.
I’M NERVOUS WHEN I walk into my father’s office ready to confront him. I’m not going to come right out and say it—I’m not stupid, but I’m going to play the stupid card here. As in, I’m going to act all dumb about it to see his reaction. I want to see his face when I ask if he knows about Constance, I want to see if it takes him off guard, if he gives anything at all away.
I’m getting to the bottom of this; no matter what, I’ll find out.
“What do you need, Gabriella?” he asks, looking up from his desk. “You’ve been standing at that door for a few minutes, staring at nothing. Can I help you?”
“When I was out tonight, I heard something, and I wanted to ask you about it ...”
He shakes his head, as if to say well get on with it. “Well?”
“Some people at the party I went to confronted me about a girl, I forget her name, it started with a C ... Candice? No. Constance? Yeah, that’s it. They asked me if I knew about her and if I knew my family had something to do with it.”
He pauses, and his eyes narrow. “What are you talking about, Gabriella?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “It’s just weird, right? These two guys were asking me all these questions ...”
“What sort of questions?” he demands, his voice firm. “How old were they? What did you tell them?”