Page 90 of Long Gone

“Stay as long as you want,” Floyd said from the doorway. “I’ll lock up later.” Then he shuffled out of the room and we heard his heavy footfalls in the hall, leading away from us.

Malcolm turned to me, his face void of expression. “Sooo…” he finally said. “Your father.”

My heart sunk. I’d held it together while we were talking to Floyd, but the heaviness of this situation was covering me like a wet blanket. “My father.”

“Is he capable of murder?”

My back went rigid. “What kind of question is that?” I demanded angrily.

“A legitimate one. Someone killed Hugo Burton and your father had access to his office.”

“My father didn’t murder Hugo Burton.”

“Does he own a gun?”

I glared at him. How dare he insinuate my father had anything to do with this. “No, of course not.”

“You were estranged from your parents for years. Maybe he acquired one without your knowledge.”

“My father is incapable of murdering someone the way Hugo Burton was murdered, let alone burying his body like that.”

“I agree that the body disposal was sloppy, but moving his car was brilliant.”

I supposed that was his roundabout way of calling my father smart, but I was stuck on the fact he was accusing my father of cold-blooded murder.

“Does your father own any corporations?”

“What?” I asked, shaking my head to clear the confusion befuddling my brain.

“Does he own any corporations?” he asked, his tone harsher.

“I don’t know.”

“I know he’s an attorney. What’s his specialty?”

The blood leached from my head, pooling at my feet and leaving me light-headed.

“What kind of law does your father practice?” he demanded, his voice hard.

Somehow I knew the question was for show, all for my benefit. He knew. There was no way he didn’t, and then it struck me that when he asked questions, especially of me, in almost every instance, he already knew the answer.

Was this some kind of sick game? Did he like toying with me?

“What kind of law, Harper?” he asked again.

Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. “Property.”

“Property.” He said it with conviction, as if he’d just proven something.

“You’re making a huge leap,” I said, my anger blazing to life.

“Maybe so, but it’s important to look at all the possibilities, don’t you think, Detective?”

Detective. His mocking tone made it an insult.

I clenched my fists at my sides. “Did you already know my father owned the building?”

He remained silent.

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