“Come here,” he says after a long, heavy moment of tension.
What’s this about? My senses are always heightened around him, but anyone with a sliver of common sense can feel the hostility oozing from him now. It’s suffocating.
I join his side as he removes a rare, vintage cigar box from the cabinet and opens it to reveal a collection of cigars.
“It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” I reply, shifting on my feet.
“The captain of the Titanic once owned this box. See this emblem?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the White Star Line’s emblem, and these are the captain’s initials.”
While that’s interesting, I don’t know what he wants me to say.
“I bought it at auction in Liverpool,” he continues. “Forty thousand dollars.”
Pocket money, in other words.
“Impressive,” I answer dutifully.
He takes one of the cigars from the box. “Designed to hold forty Havana cigars.”
I watch him run it beneath his nose, breathing in the rich tobacco scent.
“Nothing but the finest for the captain.”
What does he want? He didn’t call me in here to discuss an old cigar box.
“It also incorporates a cigar cutter.”
He returns the box to the cabinet and snips the cigar.
I fight a flinch.
“I noticed the most interesting thing today,” he says in a conversational tone, then blows on the tip and looks at me as he pats his breast pocket for the lighter.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to take the bait and ask him what he discovered, but that’s what he wants. He wants a reaction, so I stay silent as he strikes the metal wheel and lights the end.
“Something is missing.”
My body goes rigid as I snap my head toward the cabinet.
Something’s missing?What does he mean by that?
“After it was discovered that Kennie tried to steal The Founders’ Relic, it was brought here.”
Oh shit. They brought it here?
“And now it’s gone.”
It’s almost as if he thinks I’ve got it, but I don’t know what the hell happened to it.
Father puffs on his cigar. “I don’t have to tell you how important it is that it gets found.”
“What about the security footage?”
