I jerked my gaze back up to Aidan. “The money?” I didn’t wantthaton tape. “No. It’s about myfather.”
“Your father?” Behind his wire glasses, Aidan’s gaze roved over the darkness surrounding me as though searching the night for myfather.
“The man you shot six years ago?” I soundedaggressive.
I needed to cool down or he’d slam the door in myface.
Or worse, he’d release hisdog.
It growled again, slobber dripping down its jowls. My wolf bristledwithin.
“You must be mistaken. I’ve never shot a man.” Aidan’s navy eyes met mine with a disconcertingsteadiness.
“He wasn’t a man when you shot him. But you know that. You know everything aboutus. Isn’t that why you asked me to dinner? Did you get lots of interesting material for your blackmailfile?”
His lips thinned. “Careful, Ness. One phone call to the police, and I’ll show them your escort profile. I don’t think they’d take too well to aminor—”
“Because you think they’d take well to an old man paying saidminor.”
His mouth quirked. “I’m not that old. Besides, I never paidyou.”
The money in my account had been wired from the agency, but cops could trace his payment to the agency, unless it was made in cash. “Look, I didn’t come here to blackmail you into apologizing for what you did to me or to my father. I don’t even care if you took me out to dinner to gather information on my pack. The reason I came here was to get closure. To understandwhyyou shothim.”
His gaze flicked again to the darkness, and it dawned on me to check the hand that wasn’t holding the dog—check for rifles or knives or whatever weapon a crazy, werewolf-hating recluse could wield. The fingers of his right hand were empty, simply toying with hisearlobe.
“I shot a wolf that was on my property. I didn’t shoot yourfather.”
He was careful with his words, as though he was aware I was recording him. But he couldn’t know. My phone was wedged deep inside mybag.
“Then why didn’t you shoot the other wolf he was with?” Iasked.
Aidan studied my face. “The little one wasn’tthreatening.”
“The big one wasn’t threatening youeither.”
“It was on my property,” he repeated, as though that was a sound reason formurder.
“So was the littleone.”
His eyes bore into mine. “In hindsight, I should’ve shot the littleone.”
“But you didn’t shoot…me.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed and rippled the lax, stubbly skin of his neck. “Want the truth, NessClark?”
I crossed my arms in front of my tank top, which stuck to my back. “That’s what I came here for.” Sweat beaded between my breasts but quickly absorbed into the fabric of my hot pinkbra.
“Packs have Alphas. Alphas are larger than otherwolves.”
I frowned, but then his words sunk into me like the perspiration into my clothes. “My father wasn’t theAlpha.”
“It was dark. And there was a small wolf next to a larger one. How was I to know it was apup?”
“So you meant to kill Heath? My father’s death was a…amistake?”
Aidannodded.
Damn.Speak the freaking words! I tried to rephrase my question so it required a verbal response when his hand skidded off his earlobe. In the next instant, he’d released his hound and grabbed a rifle which he pointed at my chest. I shut my eyes, expecting the hound to pummel into me, but it flew toward the tall pines hedging theproperty.
