“You don’t like her either, do you?” I assumed, as he usually clammed up whenever I brought up that particular subject, and I knew it was because she yelled at him once when he loaded the wrong travel bag. It was easy to fix—not a big deal for him to go back to her room and grab the correct bag—but she felt the need to put him in line. After that episode, my father bought her a car and hired her a driver, which was what she wanted in the first place and probably why she threw a tantrum.
“My feelings about my bosses are irrelevant. I come to work, always on time, I do my job, and then I go home again,” he made clear.
“So, she hasn’t killed him yet?” I pressed, joking of course. “Slipped something into his food and drink or made him mysteriously disappear? Where she has to step up and take over the business out of the goodness of her heart.”
“He looked alive when I saw him earlier, Adina,” he hit back. “Stop making up scenarios. The real enemy is not her.”
I snorted in disbelief. “Statistically, the real enemy is right under your nose and living under the same roof. What’s that movie called? Oh yes, Sleeping with the Enemy.”
“What statistics are you talking about?” he was genuinely baffled, shrugging. “Besides, life is not a movie.”
“Stats on murderers. Most likely to be people you know,” I educated him, and his head nodded in the dark.
“Yes, that is true, but he is still alive, and even if she did kill him, she would be the most likely suspect,” he argued as we came to the open road that would eventually take us to Richmond, my hometown.
My heart thudded in my chest as the scenario was building in my mind, “Unless she set it up to make it look like you or me or Dad’s PA did it. It’s easy to get away with, Peter. She could book a vacation to eliminate her as a suspect, but hire a hitman to kill Dad while she was away.”
“Well…” he accelerated out on the open highway, “it seems you have thought long and hard about this.”
“Not that long and hard,” I argued as my mind stirred, “but I thought it was odd how she took me out of my chosen college and sent me to Castlehill, where I can’t watch over her.”
“But you can’t watch over her twenty-four-seven anyway, when you’re sleeping and attending class,” he stated the obvious.
“Yeah, when I was living back home, I’d visit the office often and check the books to ensure she wasn’t siphoning money,” I said, justifying my suspicion.
Peter shook his head in disbelief. “Really, Adina, you give your father little credit. Do you really think your father is so unwise that he wouldn’t vet her before dating her? That he wouldn’t do security checks before allowing her even into your home, let alone let her decide on his business?"
“No,” I sighed because that was a good argument, and it had crossed my mind several times. “But…,” my chest hurt in emotional pain as I reflected on the worst time of my life, “but, Peter, he started dating Leslie while Mom was dying and made their relationship official like a week after she was buried.”
“That’s not true, Adina,” Peter snarled in a friendly manner, “Stop exaggerating.”
“Mom’s bed was still warm, and he basically made his new relationship official with Leslie,” I shrilled as hot tears filled my eyes, pleased that it was dark so Peter couldn’t see how upset I was getting. “After the hell I’ve been through, I will not let that woman take my inheritance. I’m owed it. It’s mine.”
“Okay, okay, Adina, relax. I understand where you’re coming from,” he said coolly as I took deep breaths to calm my anger and hurt by what my father did.
“Sorry,” I apologized, composing myself, “I have low standards, so I expect the worst from my father and his new wife, Leslie.”
“I don’t blame you, but it’s important to remember that your father knows what he’s doing. He’s not a fool, Adina, and…” he stalled, whistled, “Looks like we’ve got company again.”
“Same number plate?” I questioned, glancing behind, but I was blinded by the headlights of the vehicle directly behind us.
“Silver SUV, and I can’t see the plate number, but it looks like the same one. I’ll change lanes up ahead to see if they follow,” he told me. “He’s trying to play it cool, laying low, pretending he’s cruising on a Sunday afternoon. He can’t hide from me, though.”
“No, he can’t,” I went along to lighten the mood, and I suspect he was pleased that the conversation had moved on from my cheating father. “You da boss of the road.”
“That’s right,” he enthused as he kept on the lane for the next five minutes until the turnoff. “The rate we’re going, you’ll be home by midnight.”
Great. No time to see Dad. I’ll go straight to bed,” I felt relieved, then I glanced through the rear window to check for the silver SUV, and I saw it following as I slouched into the seat. Even though the blacked-out windows are made of bulletproof glass, it was still smart to stay alert—just another day in the life of the daughter of a wanted man with many enemies.
“You can catch up over breakfast,” he said as his gaze kept flicking from the rearview mirror to the wing mirror. “It’ll be Saturday, so he’ll go into work later than normal.”
“So great he can make time at all,” I said sarcastically.
“It’s obviously important if he wanted to speak to you in person,” Peter drove through the streets of this small city beforecoming to a crossroad, turning right to join a main road that would lead back onto the highway.
“Still following?” I pressed after several beats of intense silence, with Peter focusing on the road.
“Yep. Those jokers must think we’re blind,” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes to glare into the rearview mirror. “They’re stopping off at the seven-eleven.”
“Oh…so maybe they weren’t following us, maybe just heading in the same direction by coincidence,” I hoped aloud because I was tired and ready to head home to my bed.
“Or maybe they’ve stopped off for supplies because they’ve got a long night,” he raised a good point, but he was probably being overly cautious, which was one reason why my father kept him on. Vigilant, handy with a gun, and a good driver.
He didn’t mention the silver SUV for a few minutes, and when I looked back, I couldn’t see it behind us. So, I relaxed again, closed my tired eyes, and didn’t wake up until I saw the large Welcome to Richmond sign.
Peter’s prediction was right; we didn’t arrive at the mansion’s gates until after midnight, and once inside, I sleepily tread up the stairs to my bedroom and locked the door behind me, tumbling onto my comfortable, soft bed.
