“The fact that you felt the need to say that is suspect,” Brooks shot back.
I motioned between them. “You two argue later.” Crossing my arms, I fixed my hard stare on Daphne. “How’d you know my father was shot?”
The president’s shooting was on the news.
Only a handful of people knew my father had been shot. And Daphne wasn’t one of them.
She shrugged. “I know everything.”
Brooks let out a dry scoff.
I was already losing patience. “What was soimportant that I had to rush over hereright now? Spit it out, Daphne. I’m a busy man.”
“Yes, right,” Daphne said, turning quickly and rushing to Blair’s bed. She grabbed a small paper off the pillow and handed it to me.
The note Brooks had mentioned.
I can’t wait to kill you, was typed across the center in black ink.
“Do you know who left it?” I asked.
Daphne shot me an offended look. “Don’t you think I’d tell you if I did?”
“Did you ask Blair about the note?” I asked.
“I’ve tried texting her, but she isn’t answering,” she said. “Do you know where she is?”
“She’s safe,” I replied.
She raised a brow. “Is she, though?”
“The hell does that mean?” I snapped.
She strolled toward her bed, opened a drawer beneath it, and pulled out a locked safe. She slipped her hand into the front of her bra and fished out a tiny key.
“I’ve been doing some research.” She dropped onto the rug in the center of the room, unlocked the safe, and pulled out a thick manila folder from it. “When Blair first got here, something feltoff. Not badoff, just like she had a past she was hiding. After what happened with Clarissa, I decided I should probably know who I was rooming with, so I started digging.”
“There’s nothing out there,” I said. “Trust me. I’ve searched, and so have people who can hack into a hell of a lot more shit than any of us.”
Daphne smirked. “Sure, if you don’t look in the right places or talk to the right people,” she said before singing, “Never have a man do a woman’s job.” She winked. “We’re basically better than the FBI.”
I made amove on with itgesture. “Tell us what you got then.”
“First, I found out that Blair’s mother was a Fawn.” Shestarted flipping through her handwritten notes, as if going through bullets.
I winced, pissed that none of us had discovered that.
“Her father was also a Son,” she continued. “So is her stepfather.”
I frowned, further pissed at myself. “You figured out who her stepfather is?”
Daphne glanced at Brooks. “He’s the vice president.”
“Bullshit.” Brooks stood from the bed and stalked toward us. “I know the Second Lady, and they don’t have kids. She had infertility issues.”
Daphne held up a hand. “Let me correct myself. Her mother is his mistress. For some reason, Blair refers to him as her stepfather. No one knows Blair exists. Her mother rarely leaves her home in Arizona.”
Arizona.
