“That’s good.”
“What’s bothering you?” he asked bluntly.
She might have taken the time to work up to her question, but since he was forcing the issue, she asked, “Are you gambling again?”
He sat up straighter in his chair where he answered, “I agreed not to.”
“That wasn’t the question,” she said, determined to meet his words with equal force.
“I’ve abided by my agreement. Is there some reason why you’re asking?”
“Two men came to my shop and threatened me,” she said.
“What men?”
“They looked like they could be connected with the mob or something.”
“They weren’t there on my account.”
“Are you sure?”
He glared at her. “Maybe you ought to think about what you might have done to attract their attention.”
“I have.”
He kept his gaze on her. “And you can’t think of anything?”
“No.”
“You always did keep your own secrets.”
“I’m not keeping secrets,” she answered, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew they were a lie. She was keeping the secret of Craig Branson from her father. For several reasons. She knew he wouldn’t approve, and she also knew that he wouldn’t understand about what had happened between her and Branson. Nobody would understand.
Still, she managed to say, “Do you think I’d come over here and ask if you might be the cause of the problem if I already knew what was going on?”
He shrugged. “I never know what to think about you. You were usually off in your own little world—where nobody could reach you. Good luck to John Reynard. He thinks he’s getting what he wants, but he’s in for a surprise.”
She stared at her father, hardly able to believe his words. She’d sacrificed her future to save him, and he was acting like he didn’t give a damn about her. Had his attitude toward her changed when she’d agreed to marry Reynard? Or had he seen a chance for her to do something useful for the family.
“Did I do something in particular to upset you?” she asked.
“No,” he clipped out, and she wondered if he was lying.
“All right,” she managed to say, then turned on her heel and left, thinking that this visit had been a waste of time.
Well, not entirely, she corrected herself. She was pretty sure that her father had nothing to do with the men who had threatened her. Which left her—where?
She shivered. She was in danger, and she could let John’s men deal with the threat. Or . . .
Another idea was forming in her head. Craig Branson had a detective agency. Didn’t that make him equipped to find out what was going on in her life that she didn’t know about?
It was a logical conclusion, but she knew it was also a rationalization. She had pulled away from Branson becauseshe’d been afraid, but now that she had some distance from him, she wanted to repeat the experience.
Which meant she had another problem. John’s men were following her around. If she approached Craig Branson, they’d know it.
Tommy Ladreau moved restlessly in his seat.
“You gotta pee?” his partner, Marv Strickland, asked?
