Page 72 of Pulse
“Is Alexis into photography?” he asks. “Does she have a lot of time on her hands to follow you around?”
“I have no idea if she’s into photography or not,” Dahlia says. “I assume she has more time than usual, considering my father is in his office or court these days. But I don’t really know.”
Ford clears his throat. “What about your father?”
She stops in her tracks. “He has no time to do it. And why? Why would he threaten to kill me? He’s the one who initiated our relationship. If he didn’t want me around, he could’ve stayed in the shadows forever.”
“Maybe he thinks that shit is going to hit the fan with his trial, and he wanted you scared enough that you’d leave,” Ford suggests.
“Couldn’t he have just asked?” Dahlia laughs in disbelief. “It would’ve been a lot easier than to go through all this trouble, don’t you think?”
Anger flashes in her eyes. It’s the look of a woman who’s not being heard.
If her gut tells her it’s not her dad … I’ll run with that.
I’ll make sure she’s heard.
“I think we might be getting fucked up,” I say.
“About what?” Ford asks.
“We’re tangling two things together that may not be associated.”
“What do you mean?”
Dahlia stops moving and watches me.
“She got an email that threatened her, right?” I ask. “Fine. Someone sent that. We’re focusing on her father only because of his reputation and because he’s in a court battle right now with some pretty serious charges.”
“Correct,” Ford says.
I hold Dahlia’s gaze. “Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe the two aren’t as connected as you think.”
A slow smile slips across her face.
“Occam’s Razor,” Ford says. “The simplest solution is the common denominator. Joseph Dallo.”
“There are exceptions to every rule.” I grin back at her. “Look, you know I respect you and will not tell you how to do your job. But I do ask, respectfully, that you look beyond Joseph Dallo. Dahlia knows him better than anyone and feels he’s not involved. I think we should put stock in that.”
“You know I respect the hell out of you, Troy. But I think, respectfully, that the man involved with the Magne has the highest probability of being guilty.”
“That hasn’t been proven.”
Dahlia wraps her arms around my waist. I lean my cheek against her head.
I can’t believe I’m going to bat for a man I don’t know—one I suspected yesterday was the perpetrator.Have I completely lost it?
“Thank you,” Dahlia mouths to me.
Or did I just jump without a parachute?
I look at the sky, shaking my head.Fuck you, Lincoln.
“All right,” Ford says. “Let me find out who else has access to Dallo’s Wi-Fi and might want Dahlia dead.”
“Ouch,” she says, making a face. “That was harsh.”
“Thanks, Ford,” I say, winking at my girl. “I owe you one.”
