Page 99 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

Tobias.

He’s the right one.

“Mr. Hutchins—”

“It’s okay, Sandy.” He looks… defeated. Maybe he was hoping I wasn’t me. Wouldn’t be the first time someone wished that. “Follow me, girls. It’s best if we talk in private.”

The receptionist makes a vague noise in the back of her throat.

Riley and I follow him down the hall. There are private offices and conference rooms, and then the hall opens into a large bullpen. Some are empty, but the greater majority are occupied. On a weekend.

That’s dedication.

He stops in front of an open door and waves us in. He has a view, surprisingly. I guess I figured he would be one of the ones in the center, fighting with his colleagues for elbow room. His name is on the glass door in gold lettering, the word partner just under it.

“The couch?” he directs, closing the door behind us. He busies himself with drawing a shade down over the door, giving us another layer of privacy—or secrecy.

There’s a framed newspaper article on the wall from five years ago about Tobias’s promotion to partner. It’s surrounded by other accolades and family pictures. A bookshelf on one wall holds law books and plants. In the corner by the floor-to-ceiling window—one of them, anyway—there’s a cozier setup of two couches and two armchairs, a coffee table between them.

We take a seat on one of the couches, and Tobias joins us. He relaxes on the armchair next to me, crossing his legs. He seems the picture of ease, and it irks me.

“You know who I am,” I say.

“You resemble your dad a bit.” He nods. “And I figured you would track me down after I ran into you and Mr. Asher.”

“How do you know Caleb?”

Now he fidgets. “Through the trial, of course. He was present, even if you weren’t.”

I sit up straighter. “I was kept away. But… He was at my dad’s trial? Why?”

Tobias pauses. “Why wouldn’t he? It involved his family—”

“Because my dad was dealing drugs while living there?”

He stares at me, a contemplative expression on his face. “What did they tell you?”

“He went away on drug charges,” I say. “And my social worker wouldn’t let me go to the trial. I didn’t get to see him again after he was arrested.”

“I’m afraid that was your father’s doing,” Tobias says. He frowns. “He was adamant that you not see him like that.”

I exchange a look with Riley. It doesn’t sound like my dad. He would’ve wanted to see me. To say goodbye, if he knew he was going to prison.

“Can you walk us through the case?” Riley asks.

“I’m sorry, it was a long time ago,” he says. He sounds apologetic, but he doesn’t seem it. “I have another meeting in a few minutes that I have to prepare for. Now, if there’s anything else…”

“It was a long time ago,” I echo. “But you knew Caleb—you called him Mr. Asher then and just now. That’s more than just respect. You were afraid of him. How could you have been afraid of a ten-year-old boy?”

He shakes his head. “Listen, Margo. These things happened in the past. It’s best to just leave them buried.”

“I refuse to accept that.”

He stands. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I can give any suitable answers. Attorney-client privilege is a tricky thing to navigate.”

“One last question.” It’s weird to be open about the desperation clawing at me. I need answers—I’ll do anything to get answers. And Tobias Hutchins is my last hope.

He waves for me to continue.

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