“The reason I picked her was because of the striking resemblance between the two of you. However, while you were kidnapped, I ran into her. She’s actually working for your father, and we had her taken in. She escaped.”
“She what? Why’d she work with him?”
“A million-dollar question.” I rub my temples, feeling a migraine incoming. “But now, we have a mole within the business, Amy’s free, and God knows what she’ll do. She doesn’t seem like the sanest person ever.”
Blair looks away, nibbling on her bottom lip, deep in thought. She takes a few moments, then takes a deep breath.
“We’ll start tackling all of this tomorrow. Tonight, we’ll try to make Aria feel as good as we possibly can. She needs this; we all do.’’
As if on cue, the front door opens, with Aria and Dad strolling in. He looks like he’d rather be elsewhere, and Aria looks almost reluctant to be back in her home. Blair’s the first one to approach my sister, hugging her tightly.
“Welcome home, squirt,” I say, and my little sister offers a small smile.
“Thanks.”
“I made you a cake.” Blair ushers Aria toward the table, clearly excited to show her the creation. My sister laughs softly, then kisses Blair’s cheek.
“Thank you. It looks amazing.’’
I turn my attention to Dad while the girls talk and slice up the cake. He looks like he’s been run over by a truck, a couple of times. The bags under his eyes are dark, and his clothes are crumpled, dishevelled, and he desperately needs a shower. Yet, there’s a speck of softness as he looks at Aria, the love for his daughter unmistakable.
“You should try a piece of cake, too, before going back.”
He seems almost reluctant, but when he sees the stern expression on my face, he caves in. He sighs, then nods, and walks over to the table, taking a seat. Blair pushes a plate his way, which he takes with gratitude.
The moment is peaceful, and just for a split second, I begin to think that this night will end up being uneventful.
But then the doorbell rings.
And it rings again.
Before any of us can walk up to the front door and open it, it bursts open. At least seven SWAT team members come inside, their guns all pointing toward Dad. Aria screams, and Blair’s quick to pull her behind her, shielding my sister with her body.
“Hudson De Santis, you’re under arrest.”
NINETEEN
Everything passes by in a blur. Dad’s forced on his knees by two of the SWAT police officers, while Blair and I remain frozen in our spots. The entire thing happens in maybe fifteen minutes, before he’s dragged out in handcuffs. He turns back to look at me, and it’s brief, but I know what the look means.
When he’s pulled out and shoved into the backseat of the car, another man approaches the front door and steps inside as if he’s the owner of the house. His suit is nicely fitted, and the FBI badge flashes before my eyes as he identifies himself.
“Special Agent Fred Arnault,” he introduces himself, offering his hand for meto shake.
I merely glance at it before looking back at his face, without taking the hand. He has something on his hand that he thinks I didn’t notice. It’s likely something to get my fingerprints, and I won’t fall for the oldest trick in the book.
“What are his charges, agent?”
“Conspiracy and involvement in criminal organizations.’’
A small hum slips my lips, and I can’t help but find this bizarre. Just when we find Blair, Mom gets shot, Amy Marshall escapes, and within seventy-two hours, Dad gets arrested. Someone pointed the feds toward our home, and I have every intention of finding out who the fuck it was.
I’m not too worried about Dad. He’ll be fine in prison, given the high connections in law enforcement and the fact that he’s well known amongst criminals. I doubt anyone will touch him in there and live to tell the tale.
“Let me guess, it will go straight to trial without the option of bail?”
The agent nods. “Correct.” Then he turns to his colleagues. “Wrap it up. We can’t do much without a search warrant. We’ll have one by morning.’’
“By morning, there won’t be anything left to find.’’
