Page 62 of Frenemies

“Your old man’s into some sick shit.”

I pushed the door closed and looked over at him. “What do you mean?”

“He eats tuna with mustard.” He made a gagging sound and shook off a shiver. “Who the fuck does that?”

I dropped my face in my palm and let my pulse calm down. Asshole had me worried for a second.

“And there’s like fifty pairs of anal beads in here. Some of them look handcrafted.”

Eww.

Logan looked down in the open drawer and nodded. “I might have to ask him who made those. They’re good quality.”

Double eww.

“Would you stop inspecting my father’s sex toys?” I could’ve lived a happy life without ever knowing my father had anal beads.

“Not my fault they’re right here.” Logan shrugged and pushed the drawer shut. “Okay, so what are we looking for.”

“I don’t know?”

What was I looking for—a manifest or records? Daddy was too smart to make it obvious. I glanced around, scanning the bookshelves and desk for anything that might point me in the right direction.

Logan must’ve sensed my hesitation because he arched a brow and said, “You’re looking for information, right?”

“Yes.”

“Like business stuff?”

I wavered back and forth in my mind before saying, “Sort of.”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure if it was business-related.

“Alright, call me crazy,” he tapped his finger against his chin. “But I’m gonna suggest we start with that giant filing cabinet behind you.”

I’d never been more disappointed in myself. That didn’t mean I was going to let him know that.

“Ugh,” I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Well, you would want to start with theobviouschoice.”

Logan didn’t call me on my shit—he just smiled and helped me go through Daddy’s files. All of which seemed to be regular stuff—town budget, accounting information, and other important papers. I’d just about given up when I came across a file titled Aurora.

My pulse pattered as I picked it up, then skyrocketed to an unsteady beat when I saw what was inside.

“Is that what I think it is?”

I licked my suddenly dry mouth and forced back a swallow. “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” Logan’s cheek puffed out with a long breath. “I have to tell Lou about this.”

Louis Kessler ran this town. Hell, he ran a lot more. If he found out. . .

I felt sick.

“Can you give me some time?”

Logan shook his head. “I don’t know. . . ”

“Please, Logan.” I clutched onto his arm. “He’s my father.”

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