When Swift hesitated, John wanted to smack him upside the head. “Answer yes or no.”
“I think she was here.”
The answer elicited a curse. “Are you saying you don’t know for sure? Are you saying she came in and didn’t speak to you?”
“I was out.”
“Doing what?”
Swift’s face tightened. “Getting supplies.”
“Liquor?”
“I was running low.”
John made a disparaging sound.
“I came home, and I thought she was in the house. But when I looked for her, she’d sneaked out. If she was here at all.”
“What makes you think she was here?”
Swift shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t appreciate your barging in on me like this.”
“Oh you don’t? Well, you don’t have much choice.”
“We have an agreement.”
“That’s right, and I don’t know where the hell to find your daughter. If she was here, I want to know why and where she went.”
“All right. I heard someone upstairs, but nobody was there. When I investigated, I saw that the bedspread in her mother’s room was mussed.”
John felt a wave of anger sweep over him. She hadn’t made love with him, but had she come here to do the deed with Branson. “You mean she was on the bed with someone?”
“I don’t think so. I think she took a bunch of boxes out of the closet and put them on the bed.”
“You’re quite the detective.”
“It’s my best guess.”
“Which bedroom?”
“Her mother’s.”
“Show me.” He turned to the bodyguard he’d brought along. “Wait here.”
“Yes, sir.”
John was already barreling up the stairs, then had to wait for the old man to come huffing after him.
He led the way down the hall to a bedroom that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years.
“What boxes? Why?”
Swift opened the closet and pointed to the top shelf. “That’s stuff my wife kept around. Stuff I couldn’t throw out.”
“And why do you think Stephanie was into it?”
“The boxes aren’t piled up exactly the way they were.”
