“Lift your arms,” he ordered.
Appalled but not inclined to learn the consequences of refusing, she raised her arms. He patted her down, just like in the movies. She gasped when he reached her thighs.
He glanced up. “Spread your legs.”
Horrified but certain this was the only way to get past the man, she obeyed. When he’d finished, he stood. “Let’s go.”
Reeling at the violation, she followed him up an elegant staircase and then into a large office.
Sidney Fairgate sat behind a wide, gleaming desk. He was older than Emily by several years, but she’d seen him around at the trial. She recalled quite distinctly that he had a reputation for being as crude as he was unattractive.
“Do you need money?” he demanded, those beady eyes peering at her as if he hoped to see through her clothes.
She remembered that too. He was known for being nasty and mean when it came to women. “No.”
“Then why are you here?”
She wet her lips and took the necessary leap. “I want to know if my father is in trouble ... financially.”
Fairgate’s eyebrows shot upward. “I can’t discuss anyone else’s business with you. What kind of man do you think I am?”
Fear sparked along her nerve endings, made standing still extremely difficult. “I just want to help.”
“You can’t help.”
Emily blinked, startled by his indifference. “Surely there’s something I can do.”
A sinister smile spread across his hawk-like features. “There are always things a woman can do,” he said as he blatantly sized her up, “but I’m certain you wouldn’t be interested.”
Anger kicked up enough to make her go temporarily stupid. “Stop harassing my father.”
“Or what?” Fairgate fired back.
The huge guy who’d led her here and who had waited by the door until now took a step in her direction.
Time to go. She turned her back to the pig behind the desk and started for the door.
“If you want to know your daddy’s troubles, Miss Emily Wallace,” Fairgate said, causing her to hesitate, “ask him to tell you the secret he’s been keeping for all these years.”
What kind of secret? What did he mean,all these years? Don’t ask.Just go!She prepared to move toward the door once more.
“Everybody has their secrets, including your precious daddy,” Fairgate taunted. “Nobody’s perfect.”
Anger poked at her, had her sucking up her courage and turning to face him. “There’s one difference between you and my father, Mr. Fairgate.” That dark, penetrating gaze probed her, but she refused to be intimidated. “My father would never keep a secret that would hurt another person. You, I am quite certain, would have no qualms doing just that.”
He sneered at her. “I have secrets, Miss Wallace. Many, many secrets. And, as you say, a number of those would cause harm. Some already have.”
She told herself not to be baited ... told herself to go ... but she couldn’t walk out now without asking. Between Justine bringing it up and Emily’s parents’ argument and thenthis... she couldn’t not ask.
“Like ...” she heard herself say, her mouth going sandbox dry, “... the one about Clint Austin’s alibi?” Her heart stumbled as her own words, words of betrayal, ricocheted in the room.
Fairgate snickered. “I wondered how long it would take people to start asking that question now that he’s out. I got one thing to say; the answer to that question is for me to know and you not to, Miss Wallace. That’s the thing about secrets. You can keep them. If you have other interests regarding Mr. Austin, perhaps I can assist you with those.”
Outrage unfurled, mostly at herself. “The only thing about Clint Austin that interests me, Mr. Fairgate, is making sure justice is served.”
“Really.” He braced his hands on his desk, leaned forward. “And here I was thinking you were interested in the truth.”
She pivoted away from the amusement in those beady eyes and stamped out. Taking the stairs in a blind rush, she flew to the front door, already standing open with another of those bouncer-type guys waiting to close it behind her.
