“I heard her scream. Sounds like you did a good job of scaring her.”
My mind flashes back to Amy huddled away in that room. Yes, she was scared, her brain cloudy with Ketamine, not knowing what’s going to happen to her, yet she still displayed foolhardy courage by spitting defiance at me whenever I challenged her.
“We may have underestimated her,” I say. “She could prove tougher than we initially assumed.”
“Let me speak to her.”
“Your turn will come.”
“I’ll show that stuck-up Barbie a thing or two about being scared.”
“That’s enough, Nolene.” The malice in her tone aggravates me. I scratch my beard, vowing to shave it off tonight. “We’ll leave her alone for a couple of hours. Let her sweat it out. Then we’ll find out what we need from her.”
Nolene picks at a thread on the couch. “Women like her, I can’t stand them.”
“You were like her once.”
Maybe that’s why she resents Amy so much. It’s like holding up a mirror, seeing how Nolene could have turned out if circumstanceshadn’t intervened. No doubt, it’s also seeing Amy squander money like she does, money we desperately need.
Before her mother cut off her funds, Nolene shamelessly used her family’s money to travel the world, driven by a zeal to help animals in all the global hotspots: Spain’s bullfighting arenas, Korea’s dog markets, China’s bear-bile farms, Canada’s seal slaughters. She never ran out of countries.
“I gave it all up,” Nolene reminds me.
“Only because your eyes were opened. What if we can get Amy to see?”
She snorts. “Not a chance. She won’t change.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“She knows,” Nolene insists. “She knows what Daddy Dearest does in his lab.”
I keep quiet. I can’t argue that point. In all likelihood, Nolene’s right. I assume, for the most part, Amy is ignorant of her father’s doings, but five minutes ago she passionately defended his dedication to his work.
In the face of my silence, Nolene lays a hand on my knee. “Not everyone can be redeemed.”
“I know.”
“The father, his soul is black.”
“Blacker than most,” I agree.
“And the daughter’s soul is just as black.”
I meet her gaze. “You forget whoyourfather was.”
“I’ve never forgotten!” she insists vehemently.
I keep my voice even. “My point is, you managed to break away from his influence. Amy could do the same.”
“The difference is, I hated my father,” Nolene reminds me. “It’s obvious she loves Graham Hutchinson. You need to be careful.”
I know what she’s intimating. “Worried about me, Nolene?”
“She’s pretty. Don’t let her get to you.”
“Is this jealousy talking or are you raising a legitimate question?”
“Both,” she says after a moment.
