Page 21 of Paternal Instincts
“Why is that?”
Imogen couldn’t say and chalked it up to possibly the same reason Nixon’s parents didn’t like her.
Nixon, sniffling, rejoined the conversation. “Not everyone believes in young love, Detective. Even after we’ve proven them wrong. We have a good marriage and great kids. Thereissuch a thing as soulmates. Genie is mine, and I am hers. For the record, Ronald and I get along great. Her dad is a quiet man. He’s never had a problem with me.”
Imogen had an older sister named Odelia, a best friend named Brooke, and two work colleagues who frequented the house, Sasha and Kaitlin. No reported animosity.
A rap at the front door interrupted us, and Jordyn jumped to get it, telling the couple to stay seated. “It will be the constables we requested. I’ll get them sorted.”
Once she was gone, Imogen wiggled forward on the couch and made to stand. “I should check on my daughter.”
“Genie, sit.” Nixon bounced up, reaching for her arm.
She offered him a wan smile and patted his hand. “I’m fine.”
Reluctantly, he let her go, lowering himself back to the chair.
When Imogen vanished into the kitchen, I faced a sorrow-filled Nixon. “How about we talk about the feud between you and Jude.”
“It’s not a feud.”
“When did it start?”
Nixon raked his fingers through his hair and pushed out an exhausted breath. “A couple of weeks ago. One of our accountants brought me a concern. When compiling our quarterly reports, she noticed a minor discrepancy in our balance. It gave her pause, so she started tracing it back through several months, pulling older reports and finding more evidence where it had originally gone unnoticed. I say minor because it displayed as a slow trickle of lost funds when taken in context with our company’s earnings. Barely a drip. Not a gusher. A few thousand a month. Until we discovered the…discrepancywent back years and amounted to hundreds of thousands of dollars. I did my own investigating, double-checking her findings, not believing it, but she was right. Logically, it made sense that it was Jude, so I approached him.”
“Without proof?”
“He’s an addicted gambler. It was enough of a reason.”
“He denied the claims?”
“Yes, but he couldn’t provide an explanation for the discrepancy. I told him I would hire a forensic accountant to get to the bottom of it, and he blew a gasket, saying I didn’t trust him.”
“Because of his gambling problem?”
“Yes.”
Imogen returned to the living room with Sparrow in tow. Nixon flashed his attention to his wife, and although he seemed about to say more, he clamped his mouth shut and didn’t continue.
“Is Jude having money trouble?” I asked.
“I don’t know. He’s… sensitive about his addiction and doesn’t like to discuss finances.”
“Did Jude threaten you?”
“No. He was angry that I would accuse and didn’t trust him, but it wasn’t any worse a spat than we’ve had in the past. He swore he wasn’t responsible for the missing money. Honestly, I want to believe him. He seemed shocked there was money bleeding from our accounts right under our noses, but people with addictions will do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do when they’re struggling. They would lie. They would steal.”
“Would they kidnap your son?”
“No.”
I glanced at Imogen. She wore a worried expression and something in her eyes made me wonder if she believed him.
“You said Jude’s married,” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you threaten to talk to his wife?”
