Page 115 of Paternal Instincts
The second was an entertainment room. A smart TV took up an entire wall, playing classic Much Music videos on YouTube. White leather couches and recliners surrounded the screen, along with chic tables and luxurious décor. An abandoned juice box and a plate full of crumbs told me someone—a child—had been in here recently. Sitting on the table closest to the television was a brilliantly white cockatoo with yellow head feathers, bopping up and down to the music.
Costa snorted, and when I scowled in his direction, he motioned to the bird, mouthing, “Come on. Look at that. He’s getting down with the beat.” He mimicked its dancing, and I scowled harder.
Though I had to admit that a dancing bird wasn’t something you saw every day, we didn’t have time to watch the show.
Back in the foyer, we listened to the voices, trying to determine from which direction they emanated. Costa pointed at the floor, suggesting there might be a basement, and I agreed. It didn’t sound like they originated from upstairs. If you were stowing a child in a house, it would be safer if that place didn’t have too many windows to the outdoors. Basements were ideal.
We inched forward, checking closets and hidden alcoves. We found a kitchen, a dining room, and a pantry. The rear door led to a contained backyard with an inground pool, patio furniture, and robust flower gardens that had grown wild in the absence of the house owners.
In another hallway, we cleared a bathroom, a home office, and what appeared to be an unused guest bedroom if the sparse furniture told me anything.
We also located the staircase to the basement where the sound of two men arguing originated. Blindly descending stairs into an unknown situation and location was never good. We couldn’t see what we were walking into until most of our bodies were exposed. We would lose the upper hand if we were spotted.
Costa touched my arm and held up a finger before tapping his ear.Listen, he said without words.
I was listening, but I thought he meant we should pause and consider how to approach the situation. Evaluate the tempers below and get a feel for the level of danger. Also, I’d heard nothing to confirm that Crowley was with them. Was the child downstairs or hidden away in another part of the house?
“That’s not all. I’m giving you a chance to tell me the whole goddamn truth. Don’t fuck with me, Flynn.” Nixon’s temper was a boiling pot of oil. He spat the words with such venom I feared being burned by their assault, even at the top of the stairs.
It was impossible to tell how far into the conversation they were or how much had been revealed before we arrived.
“There’s nothing more to say. It was a long time ago. Short-lived. A mistake. Walk away, Nixon.” Flynn’s cool demeanor, the one I’d witnessed throughout the entire case, remained. “The boy isn’t yours. I have proof.”
“He willalwaysbe mine,” Nixon yelled.
“Dad.” The terror-filled cry of a child made my breath catch. “What is—”
“I said shut up,” Flynn roared with unnatural anger. “Don’t call him that. He isn’t your father.”
Costa’s entire body went rigid, and for the first time since I’d known him, a wall of wrath and revenge descended over his once clear eyes. His nostrils flared. His jaw tightened. I feared he was ten seconds from barreling into the basement, guns blazing. Costa was a father, and his paternal instincts had kicked into high gear.
I placed a hand on his arm before he could react. Our gazes clashed. The fire simmered. For as much as I wanted to run into the fray as well, we needed a plan, or it could all go to shit. Costa nodded that he was calm, so I released him.
Holstering my weapon for a moment, I got down on my hands and knees to see if I could assess the layout of the basement or at least deem if it was safe enough to go down the stairs or if we would be seen.
The child whimpered.
Flynn hushed him again.
“Crow. It’s okay,” Nixon said. “Dad’s not leaving without you. I promise. Just do as Uncle Flynn says and stay quiet, buddy.”
“Youareleaving. This conversation is over,Uncle Nixon.”
“It’s not. You haven’t given me the whole truth.”
“I have—”
“You haven’t! I know the whole truth. Genie told me. It wasn’t a onetime thing. It didn’t happen years ago and stop. Your affair was ongoing until you decided to fuck with our nanny on the side, and she ended things. Genie told me it started long before Crow was born.”
“She’s a fucking liar.”
“She’s not.”
“She’s lied to you about Crow for your entire marriage, Nixon. What makes you believe her now?”
Nixon didn’t answer the question but threw more gasoline onto an already out-of-control inferno. “I know about the money, Flynn.”
Stillness filled the air.
