Page 115 of Nobody's Fool

“I’ll be fine.”

Archie looks up and blinks into the sky. “We don’t blame you,” he says. “I want you to know that. And yet…”

I stay silent.

“I don’t understand any of this,” he says. “What sort of danger did you bring to our lives?”

The pain in his voice almost makes me recoil, but I fight it off. He doesn’t mean to hurt me here. He genuinely doesn’t get it, but then again neither do I.

“I shouldn’t have hired you. I should have just let it be. But I tried to control it instead. And you can’t. Not back then. Not now.” His eyes meet mine. “I blame myself. I killed her by stirring this all up.”

It’s not true, but it won’t do any good to tell him that.

“Mr. Belmond,” I say, clearing my throat. “We still need to find her kidnapper.”

He looks lost. “What?”

“It could be connected—”

“Don’t the police think the man you got released from prison did it?”

That is the most common theory right now—that I was the intended target, not her. According to Marty, the police are investigating the possibility that Tad Grayson wanted revenge on me and that Victoria was just an innocent bystander.

Made sense.

“The police dragged Tad Grayson in for questioning, but his lawyer, Kelly something—”

“Neumeier,” I say.

“Right, whatever. She came with him. She asked the police what hard evidence they had tying her client to the shooting. When no one had a decent answer other than this revenge motive, she smiled and said, ‘Come on, Tad. Let’s get you back to your mother.’”

“Yes,” I say. “And that’s a strong possibility. But before she died, Victoria told me some things you should know.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know if now is the right time—”

“Don’t start with that,” Archie snaps. “What did she say?”

I let loose a deep breath. “That she remembered Spain. That she remembered me—”

“Hold up. Are you saying her memory returned?”

I don’t know how to word this to a grieving father, so I just spit it out. “I think she always remembered.”

I expect this to shock him, but I don’t see that here. Then again, he’s grieving and numb and maybe nothing can shock him anymore.

“What else did she say?” he asks.

“That she loved her family more than anything,” I reply. “That you were all kind and decent. She made me promise to protect you.”

His eyes close. A moan escapes his lips. I should let it go, but I can’t.

“What did she mean by that?”

He doesn’t reply. I press a bit more.

“Protect you from what, Mr. Belmond?” I ask. “What do you need protection from?”

---