Page 64 of Paternal Instincts
“Do you want to snuggle and read books in bed? Mommy’s tired and needs to lie down.”
Sparrow agreed, so I left the two alone.
I wanted to shake Imogen upside down and find out what she was hiding and why. Her reticence bothered me on a level I couldn’t sortout. Aslan’s words rang in my head.“Maybe you should be asking what scary secret she has that makes her too afraid to talk.”
Was she being threatened? If so, why wouldn’t she tell us? What did the note mean? How could Imogen or Nixon possibly be ruined? What information did this person have that these parents didn’t want exposed?
My phone vibrated with an incoming text. I retrieved the device from a pocket.
Aslan: I showed Clementine’s picture to Dontrel. He confirms she was definitely the woman Nixon met with on Tuesday. Taking his statement now. Talk soon xx
I sat with that information for a moment before joining Jordyn and Nixon in the kitchen. Nixon had changed his clothes but was no less rumpled than the previous day. A dark shadow of stubble lined his jaw, and the bags under his eyes resembled deep bruises, but the red lines in his sclera had calmed.
Fuck Edwards. I was done with Nixon’s tears and offering him sympathy. I was done playing nice and dancing around the delicate subject of their missing child. The parents had been directly threatened. The threat implied they knew more than they were saying. No more kid gloves.
Jordyn and I had spent the past thirty-some-odd hours tiptoeing around a case that pointed right back to the parents, and we’d gotten nowhere. My partner must have seen the intent in my hardened posture and expression and motioned for me to go ahead.
Nixon waited patiently on a stool at the kitchen island, gaze weary and cautious. Maybe he saw my lack of empathy too. He worried his hands, a ceramic mug of coffee growing cold beside him.
“I’m getting a warrant to review your finances, Mr. Davis.”
Nixon’s brow creased, and he blinked several times. “Um… okay.”
“You’re not curious as to why?”
More hand twisting. “I assume it has something to do with Jude and the missing money. Did he say I took it, and I’m trying to blame him? How does this relate to Crowley’s disappearance?”
I ignored his questions. “I found your business partner in your office yesterday, rooting through your computer.”
Nixon’s nostrils flared. He flexed his fingers, holding tension between his hands, but he said nothing.
“Does that bother you?”
“Of course it does.”
“We also found Jude on surveillance video at the Soccerplex at the time of Crowley’s game on Tuesday.”
“What?” Nixon sat straighter. A vein pulsed at his temple, and his gaze flicked between Jordyn and me. “At the game? But Jude would never…” He shook his head. “What are you saying?”
“We spoke to him. Jude claims he was looking for you.”
“Me? But…”
Jordyn stepped forward. “I asked you about your meeting yesterday. The one you claimed ran late and made it impossible for you to make it home on time to take Crowley to his game on Tuesday. I explained that your secretary claimed you didn’t have a meeting and left before five.”
“And I told you she was mistaken. She’s only privy to client meetingsshearranges. I arranged this one and met with the accountant downstairs in the courtyard.”
“The accountant?” Jordyn sought clarification, and I was glad because if she didn’t, I would have.
“Yes. A forensic accountant. About the missing money. I wanted advice about how to best proceed. Jude’s been unreasonable. I can’t talk to him about it anymore. All we do is fight.”
“Mr. Davis,” I said, cutting in. “I spoke to one of the security officers at the Bay-Adelaide building where you work. It so happens he can back up your story since he remembers your meeting in the courtyard on Tuesday evening.”
“Good. See?” He glared at Jordyn with hostility. “I’m not a liar.”
I held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “The man also rememberedwhoyou met with. He claims it didn’t appear to be a business meeting at all and that the person with you was a young, redheaded woman.”
I paused for effect.
