He finally stopped looking around and moving and generally not looking at her, and faced her head-on. “Your dad has been searching the name.”
“Wait . . .” She hadn’t expected him to say that. For a second the words just sat there in her brain. “What?”
“Wren.”
She kept trying to shake the cobwebs out. “He doesn’t know that name. He knows Brian Jacobs.”
“Exactly.”
Dread spilled over her. She felt it wash over her and seep into every muscle. She didn’t know what was coming, but she knew it would end with a fiery explosion. “What are you saying?”
“That he has the boxes, your files. He has your research.”
The strangling haze refused to lift. “That’s not possible.”
“We both know it is.”
It took her an extra second to snap out of her stupor. When she did, fury screeched through her brain. He was actually blaming her father for . . . that couldn’t be. “No. That’s ridiculous. My father wouldn’t scare me and steal from me. I must have messed up and said it.”
“That didn’t happen. You wouldn’t make that mistake when the stakes are so high.”
She’d tried not to. She made a conscious effort to stick to Wren, but she was human. Her father shouldn’t be blamed for her mistake.
Something choked her throat. She had to fight to not throw up. Force her body to stay still while she got this out. “Sometimes . . . sometimes I get excited and—”
“Look at me.” In two steps he was in front of her with his hands on her forearms.
She shook her head. Tried to push out all the thoughts jamming up inside of her right now. “There’s a logical explanation.”
“He wasn’t in the house that night.”
The jump in topics threw her. “What, when Tiffany went missing? Yes, he was. I was there. I saw him.”
“No.” He squeezed her arms then his hands dropped to his sides. “I’ve watched the videotape questioning, Emery. That is not what you said. The detective said it.”
“Because it happened.” She backed up. Ran right into the stove. “It absolutely did.”
“Listen—”
“No, I don’t get what you’re doing.” She scrambled out of his path when he started walking toward her. She knocked mail off the counter as she raced to the other side of the bar. Far away from him. “Why are you saying these things?”
Every word cut into her. He hated her father and had this twisted theory. But the accusations couldn’t be true. She never expected Wren to strike like this. It wasn’t who he was . . . or maybe she didn’t know him at all. She’d spent all day thinking about him, trying to believe she was falling in love with him, and he was plotting this.
“You hired me to—”
“No.” She held up her hand in a feeble attempt to shove the words away. “I didn’t hire you to do anything. I thought you took Tiffany.”
“You know I didn’t.”
“Neither did my father.” She waited for all the explanations to start tumbling out. She only came up with one. “Our dads were best friends. We were related. For God’s sake, Tiffany is his niece. There was no reason for him to . . . no.”
“He hated her.”
“He hated the guy at the gas station, but he didn’t kill him.” She screamed the words at him.
The more even and in control he looked, the more furious she became. She wanted to pound on his chest and make him feel something. Make him apologize.
“Emery.” He took another step toward her.
She held out both hands this time. “This is about you.”
Her mind raced. She needed to understand how this happened. Everything had been so good this morning. A few hours apart and he was attacking everything she believed in.
“You’re twisting this. You want to find an answer, I get that.” She tried to think about who he was and how he reasoned things out, but his accusations still didn’t make sense.
Pain flashed in his eyes as he shook his head. “You know that’s not it. I would never make something up.”
“Like your name or your history? God, Levi. You lie every single day by pretending to be someone you’re not.”
His face went blank. “You’re lashing out.”
“You’re damn right. Just because your father is a killer doesn’t mean mine is.” Her voice shook as she screamed. “Don’t suck me into your reclusive sickness.”
For a second nothing moved. The big house went silent. The television was on in the other room, but the mumble of voices faded into the background.
“We, ah, need to back up and think about this.” He rubbed his forehead.
No, he didn’t get to play the injured party here. “I’m done thinking and talking.”
“Tomorrow—”
“Tomorrow I’ll be gone at work and then maybe at Caroline’s house. You can sit here all alone with your conspiracy nonsense.” She couldn’t imagine looking across the table at him. Sleeping with him. Her mind recoiled at the idea. “Tonight I’ll be in one of the other bedrooms.”
She started to walk away, but it took all of her energy to get her legs to move.
“Emery.”
She hesitated for a second, looking at him over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t want you to sleep with the child of a killer. Of course, I guess you do that all the time.”
The green light of the alarm clock beamed through the dark room. Wren knew the minute she left the house. There was no way to get out without tripping at least two alarms. Neither of them screeched through the quiet night. His watch buzzed and his cell rang. That was it.
He’d checked on her twice over the last two hours. Knocked on the door, but she wouldn’t let him in. He couldn’t sleep. Hell, he might never sleep again after that explosive fight. But he’d hoped she’d be there to talk with him in the morning. Maybe they could find some common ground. But no.
A little before four in the morning. That’s when she gave up and walked out. Wren didn’t even have to sit up in bed to know she’d left only with what she was wearing. The rest of her things were strewn around his room.
He picked up the phone to call Keith, but he’d already texted. The alarm tipped him off and he and Stan were following her. They would check in with her location and status. Wren just had to hope she wouldn’t try to lose them.
The phone was right there, so he started to call her then disconnected. She didn’t want him. She’d made that pretty clear. Lashing out wasn’t a surprise, though the subjects she picked to throw at him weren’t ones he’d soon forget. She used every secret he ever told her against him.
He got the anger, but the show of hate was unexpected. It boiled inside of him, too. He could feel the frustration and disappointment rise and churn.
He whipped the phone against the wall. Heard a sharp crack then a thump as it fell against the hardwood floor.
He’d fucking blown it.
CHAPTER 29
Every muscle in Emery’s body ached. It hurt to walk. To breathe. She’d been ripped apart and glued back together again, but nothing fit anymore. It was all off. She wondered if she would ever feel whole and human again.
Another day, another shock. She left a message at the office saying she had a family emergency. That didn’t even come close to the implosion Wren had set off. Even if her father explained, doubts would always linger. She’d analyze every word now.
Levi. Just thinking his name made her heart ache.
She’d said awful things to him. Unforgivable things. He’d delivered the message and she burned him and it to the ground. Guilt wrapped around her, weighing her down. She shook with the need to apologize. The memory of his face as she yelled at him, as the slicing words popped out and she couldn’t grab them back, nearly knocked her over. She’d seen the very moment the pain shot through him. When the betrayal hit.
She deserved to lose him, and she would. She’d turned every moment of trust he shared with her back on him. Whipped him with his
own words.
Bile rushed up her throat. She started to heave. Actually turned to the bushes and thought she might topple over. Somehow she bit it back. Got her body back under control, at least for now.
She looked again at the steps to her father’s front porch. She had no idea how long she’d been standing there or how many people had walked by. She buried her head in her hands and tried to find the strength to get through the next few minutes. She didn’t believe her father was capable of such horror, but she had to know.
“Emery?”
She hadn’t heard the door open, but when she looked up her father stood there. He wore his usual dress pants and plain shirt. He had his bag in his hand, which meant she likely caught him on the way to class or office hours. No doubt he’d use that as an excuse to put her off.
“I need to talk to you.”
He didn’t move. “Now?”
“It has to be now.” She might not have the nerve later.
This was the kind of news you buried. Planted it deep and never looked at it. She didn’t believe it, couldn’t even wrap her mind around it, but she needed him to explain the inconsistencies. Put her mind at ease. Give her something to go back to Wren with right before she begged him to forgive her.
“Come inside.” Her father opened the door and gestured for her to go first. “I only have a few minutes.”
Her brain messaged her legs to move. Somehow she got up the steps and through the entry. She didn’t stop until she stood in the middle of the family room. She’d spent very little time in the space growing up because it was her father’s domain. Where he entertained guests. Where he and his wives and girlfriends watched what little television he would allow.
She preferred the quiet of her room. There she could read and dream. Out here she had to deal with him, just like now.
“I’m going to ask you some questions and you need to tell me the truth.” When she realized she was shifting her weight from foot to foot, she stopped.
“What’s wrong with you?” He looked her up and down and frowned.
He always did that. Made it clear he didn’t like what he saw. Reeked of disappointment. He wrapped his arms around his precious bag like it was a fragile baby. The one he always carried and hung on to like a shield. With her, he used his words like a whip.
She tried to figure out things to say. She didn’t welcome a game of verbal gymnastics or want to look for him to wiggle his way out of answering. She’d literally trashed her life and destroyed everything she had with Wren—the one man who meant something to her—and there needed to be a payoff. She deserved answers and so did Tiffany.
When she failed to come up with anything clever, she just spit out the question. “Have you been investigating the name Wren?”
His arms fell and he now held the bag by his side. “What’s this about? Is your boyfriend territorial and upset someone else is investigating this issue? And yes, I figured it out. You can do much better than him.” Her father waved her off and started to turn. “We’ll talk about all of this and whatever has you rattled later.”
Just as she feared. But this was too important for her to be ruled by fear. “Now, Dad.”
He sighed at her. “Emery, please. I don’t have time for nonsense. Today I’m supposed to—”
“I don’t care.” She took a step closer. The distance gave her comfort, but he used it as a way to hold her off. “How did you know that name?”
“What?”
She refused to back down. Not this time. “Wren.”
“This is ridiculous.”
The more he hedged, the more the anxiety churned inside her. “Just answer the question.”
“You told it to me.” Her father took his keys out of his pocket. Signaled that the conversation was over as far as he was concerned.
But she wasn’t done. “I didn’t, but you knew what to search.”
“This is what happens when you don’t concentrate. You aren’t remembering this correctly.”
Right on cue he flipped to condescension. She saw the plotting now. The tools he used to hold her off and minimize her. Wren might phrase things strangely, but he never talked down to her. He respected her, let her battle him.
Regret clogged her throat. The pain of losing him battered her now. Later it would have her curled in a ball and weeping. It had been years since she cried over a guy, and that one hadn’t been worth it. Wren was.
But right now she had another demon to battle. One she didn’t even understand existed until that morning. “I purposely didn’t tell you that name. So, how did you find out?”
All she needed was one reasonable comment. Maybe Uncle Gavin told him. Hell, she’d grab on to anything, but he offered nothing.
“Probably from Tyler, then. He’s worried about the influence this man has over you, and frankly, so am I.”
Dizziness struck her out of nowhere. She wanted to sit down, but she didn’t. She needed to be on her feet and in fighting form right now. Push every other emotion out. “Tyler didn’t know it either.”
“I’m going to work. You should do the same, though it would not be a tragedy to lose that position.” Her father marched up one step to the landing. “I’ll walk you out.”
“You weren’t in the house that night.” Saying the words left her feeling hollow.
He spun back around to face her. “What?”
Her knees started to give out. It took all of her energy to stay on her feet. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Actually, no. I don’t.” He stepped back down and put the bag on the step behind him.
“The night she disappeared.”
He didn’t hesitate or act surprised. “You’re the one who provided my alibi. You saw me and said so.”
“That’s not what the evidence shows.”
For a second he didn’t say anything. Then his mouth screwed up in an expression of pure hate. “What are you talking about?”
Without thinking, she stepped back. Her calf hit the coffee table, but she barely felt it. She negotiated around it, thinking for the first time in her life that she might not be safe around him. He hadn’t done anything specific, but a feeling of menace fell over the room. He stayed in control, but she didn’t know if he could maintain it.
“Are you okay?”
The sound of Wren’s voice had her snapping out of her blinding panic. She actually thought she dreamed him. That she wanted to see him so badly that she conjured him up. He stood there, frowning as his gaze flipped from her to her father.
When he moved she let out the breath she was holding. He was there. Right there. Then he was beside her with a hand on her lower back. He looked down, watched her with concern showing in every line of his body.
“How did you get in here?” Her father barked the question.
“The door was open.” Wren never broke eye contact with her. “Emery?”
She leaned into him, soaking up some of his strength. “He won’t give me any answers.”
“You did this. You’ve sold her on some ridiculous theory.” Her father grabbed his bag, but this time he didn’t stomp away. He stood only six or seven feet away with his rage festering just beneath the surface.
Wren edged forward and pulled her in tighter. “You mean the theory where you took Tiffany? I think we both know that it’s based in fact.”
“That’s . . .” Her father swore under his breath. “Emery, listen to him. He doesn’t even make sense.” He looked directly at Wren. “Get out of my house.”
“Gladly.” Wren’s voice had a rough edge. “The next people in here will be the police.”
Her father’s mouth dropped open. “For what?”
“You broke into my apartment.” Then she remembered. Why hadn’t she figured it out before? “Of course, you didn’t need to break in, which explains why the break-in looked fake. You have a key. My extra.”
Her father shook his head. “Nothing you’re saying makes sense.”
Emery felt her h
eart crumble. The pain swamping her was so intense, so brutal. “Where is she, Dad?”
Some of the color left his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We’re checking cameras on the street. We’ll find one that shows you getting into her apartment building and taking the research.” Wren shook his head. “It will be one more piece, but we have others.”
She grabbed on to Wren’s arm for balance and looked at the man who raised her. The same one who she always thought of as too perfect, too focused on details and getting everything right. “God, you really did do it.”
“What? No.” Some of the punch left her father’s voice.
A revving sensation started inside her. “Tell me about Tiffany.”
“She ran away.”
She wanted to plow him under with rapid-fire questions. Force him to tell her what he knew. “The police don’t believe that. Neither did Uncle Gavin. He never bought that story.”
“He was too close and too emotional to see the truth,” her father said, talking about the man who was supposed to have been his lifelong friend. “Emery, you know how she was. She liked to sneak out. She broke the rules. She mouthed off.”
“To you?” Wren asked.
Her father’s shoulders stiffened. “I told you to get out.”
“Only if Emery comes with me.” Wren didn’t let go of her. His fingers stayed under her elbow.
“My daughter stays.”
He acted as if he owned her. As he talked she felt something inside her whither. “You didn’t want me pushing for a renewed investigation because you’d gotten away with it.”
“Stop talking.”
She was getting through now. He finally understood she wasn’t going to just drop the topic and go away. She could see it in the way he stood there, looking around and losing control with each passing second. “When I went to the senator and then told you I hired someone, you must have panicked.”
“Stop.”
“I told you I was staying at Caroline’s house, but that was a lie. I came home that night.” She pushed on. “We probably almost caught you.”
The Fixer Page 27