Page 28 of Winning Bid

“I suppose you’re right. Everyone has a childhood with ups and downs.” Our drinks come, and we sip in contemplative silence for a few minutes. It is not the awkward silence we used to have, though. Progress. Dad asks, “How are things at work?”

“I killed my presentation this week on one hour of sleep, so I have that going for me.”

“That’s my kid. Devlins do well under pressure.”

Good thing, too. “Guess so.”

“And your boss is Andre Moeller, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I was hoping you could introduce me to him.”

Fuck. There go all the warm feelings and all the happy thoughts of my father just wanting to be my dad again. He’s been buttering me up this whole time, and it feels like betrayal. I grit my jaw. “Is that what all of this has been about? Getting in good with me to connect with Andre?—"

“What? No!” He looks offended, and I’m not sure if I’m happy about that. “June, we are family. I just thought since you work for the guy, you could do me a favor. But if that’s too much to ask, if it’s so soon in our reconciliation that you think it’s not on the up and up, then forget about it. I have loved getting to reconnect with you, and no multimillion-dollar business deal is worth jeopardizing my relationship with you. So, just forget I asked, okay?”

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. This is the trouble with my father. I can never get a solid read on the guy. “What deal are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it. This is my problem. Not yours. Dessert?”

“Dad, if there’s a problem, then let me help you. Are you having trouble at work?”

He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I just need to land a big account, and Andre Moeller’s law firm would be perfect for that. We’d handle the digital marketing and … ” He shakes his head. “Never mind. We are not here for business. You are my daughter, and I never should have asked.”

I should let this go. I know it. But he’s my dad, and if I can help him, I feel like I should. Still, I need more details. “How did you even get a job there, anyway? Given your record and all that.”

He leans in and quietly admits, “I may have changed my name and fudged my job history?—"

“Dad!”

“But only because I knew I could do the work. And I’ve been there for years, so I was right about that. Besides, no one checks that kind of thing. They just want to know what you can do for them.”

I sigh at myself as well as out loud. “Give me a little time, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Junebug.”

What’s one more infraction on my formerly spotless record?

16

ANDERSON

Ididn’t tell June about Dad knowing yet. I could have told her we needed to go for a walk last night so we could talk, but fuck, she shouldn’t have to have this on her. She already takes on too much as it is—I cannot let her know Dad knows about Neil. It’ll stress her out even more to know I have to speak to the police.

So, I’ll keep it to myself.

Besides, Dad got me Otto Pym. With him in our corner, this is as good as over. I’ll let him handle things, and when it’s settled down, I’ll tell her all about it.

Still, I’m pissed that Dad knows anything about this. That means there’s a leak among me, June, and Moss, and I know for fucking certain it was not June, which means I cannot trust Moss as much as I thought I could. Admittedly, that stings. Maybe I am naïve, but I didn’t doubt Moss before. He had my back. Or, so I thought.

On the drive to Otto’s, my mind races faster than my car. Even with Otto there, I’m not invincible. This could go sideways in a million different directions, and any of them could end up with me in the slammer. That’s why we have to meet up first, so we can discuss strategy.

Even innocent people need a strategy when speaking to the police. The job of the police is to make the public feel safer. Sometimes, that means catching the bad guy. Sometimes, that means finding someone to blame, no matter the cost. Innocent people go to prison all the time.

And since I’m not innocent, I need one hell of a strategy.

Otto’s office is nothing like what I expected. It’s a stump of a building near the outskirts of town. I double-checked the address, but I’ve got it right. The building looks more industrial than office. It’s small, white, and has just a few windows. Nothing high-end about it. This man bills millions of dollars annually. I cannot figure it out.

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