“I know he did, Linc.” I knot my hands on my lap, slouching a bit in my chair. “He worked overtime to protect me and to equip me with skills whereby I can defend and protect myself, but he should have confided in me, because this isn’t over just because he’s not here.”
Linc’s brow furrows, and he leans in closer, his chest pressing against the edge of the table. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Why do you think Neo ‘Sinner’ Lennox is now engaged to my mom?”
“Neo has always been hung up on your mom, Lo. It’s how the whole sorry mess started.”
Now, it’s my turn to look shocked. “You know about that?”
He nods. “I know a little. Your dad was always very circumspect in what he told me. He never wanted to involve me, but I figured it out not long after I came to work for him. He was using his connections to obtain confidential information which enabled The Sainthood to avoid prosecution for crimes everyone knows they have committed.”
It was a lot more than that, but I don’t articulate that thought.
“Did my mom know?”
He shakes his head. “Your father protected her too. He didn’t want her falling back into Neo’s clutches for fear of what he would do in retaliation.” A pained expression washes over his face. “He would be so disappointed in me,” he adds, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
“Why? What have you done?”
“I should have warned her to stay away from him, but, quite frankly, he scares me.”
“She’s not your responsibility, and she knows what she’s getting herself into. She spent years with that monster. She’s not an innocent.” My cutting tone is obvious in the extreme.
He reaches out, taking my hand in his. “She doesn’t know they were the ones who kidnapped you. If she did, she’d never let that bastard anywhere near you.”
I snort, and my tone turns bitter. “She doesn’t care about my feelings, and I very much doubt she’s as ignorant as you think.”
He jerks back, extracting his hand from mine. “You think she knows?”
I nod. “Yeah, I do. I think she’s a lot smarter than Dad gave her credit for.”
A look of utter horror appears on his face. “You need to get out of that house, Harlow.”
“I’m working on it,” I mutter. I’ve already reached out to Darrow’s contact. I’m just waiting for him to set a meet so I can get that ball rolling.
“Why did you ask to see me?” he inquires.
“I need copies of the police and medical examiner’s report from Dad’s accident. I know you can get them for me.”
I’d thought of asking Diesel, but that’s not the type of stuff he usually procures for me. I don’t know his background, and I’ve no clue if he has those type of connections, so I thought it best to ask Lincoln first. If he can’t deliver, I’ll ask Diesel then.
He shakes his head. “You don’t want to look at that, Lo.”
I drill him with a deadly look. “I wouldn’t ask unless I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t believe it was an accident.”
He jumps up, clawing his hands through his hair as he paces, and it’s like watching a caged lion prowl an enclosure. He stops abruptly, crouching down in front of me. “I’m begging you, sweetheart. Please let it go.”
“I can’t, Linc.”
“It’s not safe, and you won’t learn anything from those reports,” he says, confirming he has copies. I know those reports are manufactured and riddled with lies. But I want to know who wrote them and who was involved, and then, I intend to dig up dirt on them I can use to blackmail them into telling me the truth. There has got to be someone, or something, I can locate to prove my dad was murdered.
“I still want a copy.”
His face hardens, and he stands. “I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”
