Page 34 of Dallas
I sit up straighter. He found my girl? I was aware he’d still been looking for any evidence of her from before she was eighteen, but I hadn’t held out much hope he would discover anything. It’s obvious her identity change was done professionally.
After easing to my feet, I grab my jeans off the floor and shrug into them before glancing back to find Arianna still dead asleep.
Another text comes in as I silently exit our bedroom and pull the door closed with a soft snick.
I gasp when I see the incoming photograph. It’s definitely Arianna. She’s ten years younger, but she has the same brown curls and bone structure. She hasn’t changed much in ten years. She was fully grown at fifteen.
Hurrying down the hallway and taking the stairs two at a time, I’m already dialing Jason before I hit the kitchen. The smell of coffee catches my attention, and I wave toward Gretchen, who is already hard at work, as I pass through the room, heading for the library.
“Dallas,” Jason says, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Nah. I was already awake. That’s Arianna. How did you find her?”
“Are you sitting down?”
I flinch. Sitting? Lordy. How serious is this? I enter the library and close the door before heading for one of the armchairs. “Now I am. Talk to me.”
“Do you remember the high-profile murder-suicide ten years ago in Florida?”
My breath hitches, and I shudder. Everyone remembers that day. It was so shocking, and it rocked the nation. “Yes. Governor Whitacker. Killed his wife and himself in the middle of the night.” Oh, God… Did Arianna witness it somehow? “What does Arianna have to do with this?”
“She’s their daughter.”
My heart stops. I don’t move a single muscle as I process this information. Arianna. My Arianna. The woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with is the daughter of Governor Joseph Whitacker? Holy shit.
Jason continues, “Because we were considering that she might be in witness protection, I went back through high-profile cases in Florida and got a hit. It seems she spent three years constantly dodging the press. They hounded her everywhere she went. She had to withdraw from the elite prep school where she’d been a sophomore and finished her high-school education online. When she graduated, she erased herself, took a new identity, and moved to Arizona to attend college as Arianna Blythe.”
I lean back in the armchair. Jesus. A lot of possible scenarios have gone through my head in the past week, but in every one of them, I imagined my girl having witnessed something. She’s not hiding in witness protection. She’s hiding from the press.
Though it’s also possible she did see something. Was she in the house when her father killed her mother and took his own life? Did she hear the shots? Find the bodies? I pray she did not.
I run a hand down my face. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“No problem. Sorry for the early wake-up call.” Jason disconnects, leaving me in the silent library, worrying about my poor girl and what she’s been through.
It all makes more sense now. She took this job in this small town in order to hide from the world. The clothes, the horn-rimmed glasses, the bun she always wears in her hair. She’s hoping no one will recognize her so she can live in peace.
My heart hurts for the girl who lost both her parents on the same day and what she’s been through since. I want to go to her, hold her, comfort her.
Luckily, since she won’t be able to open the library for at least a few days, I’ll be able to hole up with her and get her to talk to me. I want to know everything. It’s the only way I’ll be able to help her deal with her past.
Even though it’s early, I place a few calls and leave messages with people who can assess the stability of the ceiling in Arianna’s apartment. I’ll need a plumber, too, but first things first.
“Dallas?”
I spin my head to see Arianna shuffling into the library. Her curls are in a messy ponytail on top of her head. She’s wearing leggings and an oversized T-shirt.
I realize it’s mine and smile as I hold out a hand, encouraging her to join me. “Come here, baby.”
She flushes as she hurries the rest of the way toward me.
When she’s close enough, I reach out, grab her around the hips, and lift her onto my lap. “Straddle me, baby.”
She giggles, her cheeks flushing as she settles on my lap with her legs spread around my hips. She glances at the open door next. “Someone might see,” she whispers.
I chuckle. “I don’t give a fuck who sees you sitting on my lap, Arianna.”
She sighs and flattens her palms on my bare chest. I’m still only wearing the jeans I grabbed before leaving the room. “Why are you down here? It’s so early. I woke up and you were gone.”
