Page 61 of Deny Me
Arnold startled, stammered. “Y-yes, he is. Th-the adoptions were fully legal. Nothing to worry about.”
She had a lot to worry about, and he was pretty sure she knew it. She might’ve started off believing it was all legal, but something had spooked her or she wouldn’t have run off.
He wanted to know what that something was. He wanted a name. But the words wouldn’t leave his mouth because once they did, once they were out there, the answer would be too. And he wanted to hide from it as long as possible.
He turned his back on Saint and the woman, walked the length of the room, praying the entire time.
Saint took over. “Who is your lawyer boyfriend?”
King glanced quickly over his shoulder and caught Arnold’s gaze darting between them. The woman licked her lips slowly, hesitant to answer, but finally she did. “His name is Wes. Wesley Moncrief.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I don’t believe it.”
King could feel Saint’s gaze on him—his skeptical gaze. King couldn’t even blame him. After all, they’d just had a witness describe Wes, claim he was the mastermind behind selling the babies for adoption. Claim he’d dated her, slept with her, told her they needed to cool things off until the sudden police interest died down.
And still, King couldn’t believe it was true. There was an open, gaping chasm between the reality of what they’d heard and what he’d always believed was the truth about his cousin, and nothing he told himself seemed to bridge that gap. He didn’t think anything ever could.
He simply couldn’t believe her, no matter what the evidence said.
“I don’t—”
“I know you don’t,” Saint said, not unkindly. His friend seemed to realize King was holding himself together by a fraying thread.
“Wes would cover his tracks far better than this,” King pointed out. His cousin was a literal genius, and although he’d been in their sights as a possible suspect all along, that had been due to proximity, not any actual evidence. Not even a hint of suspicious activity until last night, when he and Hugh had arrived in the garden. Wes would have stayed away from them if he were guilty.
Unless he was worried about Charlotte. You know he’d risk anything for her.
A glance showed Saint squinting through the windshield into the sun, seeming to consider his point. “I think he would too, and yet, who else is a lawyer and looks like your first cousin and is involved in this case? No one.”
“There are a lot of blond lawyers in Atlan—”
Saint raised a hand to hold him off. “I’m not saying he did it, King. But I’m also not sure he didn’t.” He shifted in his seat to meet King’s eyes. “Something is there; you can’t deny that, even if we aren’t certain what that something is. We need to figure it out.”
That was the grim reality that had King wishing he could punch something. Somehow, Wes had gotten himself tangled up in this whole mess, but King couldn’t believe it was intentional. Hell, he couldn’t even believe Wes knew what he was tangled up in—it was too far-fetched to fit with logic.
He cranked the car. “Call Dain.”
Saint drew his seat belt across his body, simultaneously reaching into his pocket for his cell. “And tell him what?”
“To meet us at Wes’s office.” King backed out of the parking space, put the car in drive, and hit the gas hard.
The drive back toward Blossomwood was mostly silent after Saint made the call. King gripped the steering wheel like his life depended on it, the churning in his stomach growing with every mile they traveled, like a gnawing monster consuming his intestines one inch at a time. An hour later, entering the downtown district, he was fairly certain the monster had started on the rest of his internal organs.
Wes’s law office was located a couple of blocks south of the courthouse. King swung the car into a metered space right in front of the building, throwing it into park. Saint jumped out with him, a sharp whistle grabbing Dain’s attention a couple of cars down. The three of them met at the front entrance and hurried inside without greetings.
A slim brunette sat behind the shiny desk in the understated elegance of the waiting room. Her eyes widened when she saw them, probably at the sheer size and intensity of the three men bearing down on her, but when she focused in on King, he knew she’d seen the family resemblance. “May I help you gentlemen?”
King felt like anything but a gentleman, though he somehow managed to keep his voice low-key. “Is Wes in?”
Hazel eyes narrowed. “And you are?”
Looks wouldn’t get him around the rules, huh? “Kingsley Moncrief, Wes’s cousin. It’s urgent that we see him.”
She frowned, the downturn of her lips barely creasing her perfect skin. “I’m afraid he’s not in the office today. It’s the day he normally spends at Creating Families with his clients there.”
King spun to his companions. Saint already had his phone to his ear.
