Page 84 of Deception

If he was telling Olive this, it was somehow connected to her.

“The text read, ‘Tell Olive to stop looking into her father or else.’”

Her heart pounded in her ears. “Someone sent you that?”

“They did. Is there anything that you want to tell me, Olive?”

She let out a sigh as she thought through her response. She didn’t usually discuss cases with Tom, but there was no harm in doing so now. Olive trusted him—as much as she trusted anyone, she supposed.

“I’m back in Oasis for an assignment,” she admitted. “Since I was already here, I went back to visit my old house a couple of times. Tonight, there was a man hiding inside. He attacked me.”

“Oh, Ollie.” His voice turned fatherly. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged, even though he couldn’t see her. “I’ll make a full recovery. Do you think that’s why someone sent you that text? Did you just get it?”

“About twenty minutes ago. I was trying to figure out how to proceed after I read it. The number was from a burner phone, of course.”

“How did someone get your number?” she asked.

“If someone is determined enough, they’ll find a way.”

Her thoughts raced. “I’ve gotten two strange text messages over the past few months also. They both claimed that the sender knew who murdered my family. He was basically taunting me.”

Tom remained silent a moment—the type of silence that spoke volumes about his unease. “Did you respond?”

“No, I figured it wouldn’t do any good.”

“And you have no idea who sent them?”

“No idea at all. But when I went back to my old house the first time, someone had left a note for me there.”

“What did the note say?”

“‘Like father, like daughter.’”

Tom paused. “I don’t like this, Ollie.”

“I don’t either. But I also want answers.”

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Tom said. “And you’re going to do whatever you want anyway. But, Ollie . . . please, be careful.”

“I will be.”

However, the more she dug into this, the more danger she would uncover. She knew that without a doubt.

CHAPTER 44

SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO

As soon as Olive and her father had gotten home from their excursion, Dad had told her to hurry and get cleaned up.

Resentment welled in Olive as she hopped in the shower.

She knew the truth—Dad didn’t want Mom to see her looking like a mess.

That meant he didn’t want Mom to know what he’d asked Olive to do.

Nausea swirled inside her at the thought of what she’d tell her mother when she asked questions—and she would ask questions.

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