Page 70 of A Date With the Devil

"Or it could break the case wide open!" I scream, slamming my palm on the desk, my frustration boiling over.

"Tony," Father O'Malley intervenes gently. "Remember why we're here."

"Sorry, Father," I mutter, chastened but still smoldering inside.

"Look, I understand you want to help," Sarah says, softening slightly. "But you have to trust the process. We've been doing this for a long time."

"Trust is earned," I snap, folding my arms defiantly.

"Tony," Father O'Malley speaks up, his tone carrying the weight of authority and concern. "This isn't a battlefield. It's a delicate situation that requires patience and cooperation."

"Fine," I relent, taking a deep breath. "But I'm not sitting on the sidelines."

"Let's find a way to work together, then," Sarah suggests, offering a truce of sorts.

"Agreed," I say, though the undercurrent of tension remains, a silent battle of wills just beginning.

Chapter forty-five

MR. NATHANIEL ROTHWELL, THE FALL GUY.

TONY

The day after I met with Sarah, I happened to turn on the news on channel 4 just in time to see Mrs. Ruth Rothwell plead with the authorities to release her husband. Liam has doubts about Mr. Rothwell’s involvement or participation in his attempted assassination, and if Liam believes that Mr. Rothwell might be innocent, then that is good enough for me, but that just leaves one question. Who is the guilty party?

Father O’Malley, Sarah, the cops, the universe are all doing their thing, so I’m going to do mine . . . get answers.

I sit across from Mrs. Rothwell now, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, a crumpled tissue balled up in one hand. The coffee table between us is littered with family photos, evidence of happier times, and a plate with a half-eaten sandwich that looks like the intended consumer doesn’t have much of an appetite.

"He talked about the Africa project all the time," Mrs. Rothwell whispers, clutching at a picture of Nathaniel with awide smile, surrounded by kids with funny hats and colorful balloons like he was at a child’s birthday party.

"How could he sound so enthused and want to kill the creator of his pet project all at the same time? Some days, he would stay up so late researching something for work he wouldn’t come to bed till about three O’clock in the morning, only to wake up at six to go to work. Tell me if all this makes sense to you.”

Only if you have dual personality I say in my head. I dare not give this poor woman false hope. What exactly can I do to get her husband home?

"Then there were the countless weekends," she says, voice gaining strength, "when he could have been golfing with Fred, but he was home, working on this project. I tell you, Ms. Ricardo. Nathaniel believed in Liam's vision completely."

Her daughter, Elise, sits quietly next to her mother, but her presence is like a coil wound tight. When she speaks, it's with a cold precision that contrasts sharply with her mother's warmth.

"My father is innocent. This is being pinned on him. What I don’t understand is, what’s it to you? Why are you here?”

"Mrs. Rothwell," I begin, my voice steady despite the tumult inside me. "I watched you on TV the other day, and I must say, you were very compelling and sounded genuine, honest, and desperate. I don't know if I can help you or not, but as you know, Liam killed my father, and I would like to know why.”

“If I help you, and your husband is vindicated, I want something in return. I want an inside man who can feed me the information I seek. Would you be willing to help me? Advocate for me with your husband, so if or when he comes out and goes back to work, he can supply me with whatever information I seek?"

“You mean like a spy?” Elise exclaims in a mixture of shock and disbelief, her eyes blazing in defiance and contempt.

“Yes,” I say unapologetically, meeting her gaze. You are free to say yes or no, Mrs. Rothwell. I am not here to pressure you. I might have something you want, and you might have something I want. This deal might be morally repugnant to your daughter, but it is all I have. We help each other out, and I pray our association gives both of us what we both seek.”

"Deal," Mrs. Rothwell agrees without hesitation, her determination mirroring my own. Children can be so emotional sometimes.

I stand to leave, the alliance formed, my mind already racing ahead. I've infiltrated the Rothwells; now it's time to charm the snake out.

Ten days back in Miami and, the world tilts on its axis. The newsstand screams scandal, and I can't help but stare at the array of photographs splashed across the front page.

Each picture is a snapshot of my life these past days, a different outfit each time I was caught entering or leaving Liam's place in Coral Gables.

Tony's Surprising Détente with Her Father's Killer,the Newspaper headline blares, casting me in the most salacious light imaginable. “We see the mistress, but where is Liam Dexter?

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