Page 96 of Veil of Lies

The thought of going for a long run suddenly seemed far more appealing than sitting in the library, but my phone buzzed in my pocket, distracting me. I frowned. Who would be calling me?

It was Michael. A sudden chill swept down my spine. We hadn’t spoken since he informed me Dad wanted to talk.

I stepped into a sheltered area against the side of the building. Brax watched me curiously, obviously reading something in my expression, but made no attempt to get close enough to overhear my conversation. Instead, he stood a few feet away, acting like my personal bodyguard.

“Hi Michael, is everything OK with Dad?” Worry bled through my words. Had Dad been attacked?

“Estella, yes, your father is fine. We’re working hard on his case, the law moves frustratingly slowly as always.”

“OK, good, I guess? About Dad, I mean.”

“Yes, yes. I called because I heard you’d been involved in a scuffle while in the city.”

Scuffle? What planet was this guy on? I was freaking shot!

“Yes, I was shot. I ended up in the hospital.”

“Are you OK, dear? Do you know who did it? The FBI agent seemed to think it was connected to your father, but he said you had no recollection of the incident?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Yeah. I can’t remember anything. The police told me it was a gang thing and I was in the wrong place. Just unlucky, I guess.”

“Ah OK. Yes, you’re probably right. The FBI is likely making connections where there are none.”

“Yeah.” I fiddled with a loose strand of hair, wondering what the point of this conversation was. Brax watched me, his hands tucked into his jeans’ pockets as he stood, deceptively casual. He reminded me of a panther, beautiful yet full of deadly aggression.

My eyes were drawn to the way his Henley molded his biceps. I drooled a little. It was not becoming at all. From the way his full lips curved up in a faint smile, he knew exactly the effect he was having on my traitorous hormones, the bastard.

In an attempt to drag my brain back on track, I turned away and returned my focus to Michael.

“… I’m missing some important files,” he was saying.

“Files?”

“Yes, all the transactions your father made in the week before he was arrested.”

“I thought the FBI confiscated everything?” I was puzzled. It seemed unlikely they’d forgotten anything important.

“Yes, yes, they did, but your father made some records available to me, to help with his defense. He knew he was going to be arrested so he put some files on a USB drive. But then he was arrested sooner than we expected and didn’t get the chance to hand over the drive.”

“Why didn’t he just email them or upload them to the cloud?”

“Because he didn’t want the FBI to see them.”

“So he was hiding evidence?” Well, that sounded shady as fuck, and not something an innocent man would do. Maybe Dad was guilty after all? Honestly, I had no idea what to think. None of this made any sense at all.

“No, the FBI had plenty of evidence.” Michael was getting irritated, I could hear it in his voice.

“I don’t know anything about this USB drive, he said nothing to me, sorry.”

“And he gave you nothing at all in the days leading up to the arrest?”

“No, nothing. All I brought with me was some clothes and my Kindle. The FBI confiscated my laptop, so I had to buy a new one.”

“OK, well if you think of anything else, let me know.”

“Of course.” Like hell I would. “Michael?”

“Yes, dear?”

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