Page 56 of Enticing the Fixer

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Like I’ve forgotten one second of the night. From the knock on the door at two a.m. to the clock striking midnight on the last day my dad was alive.

“Do you know what he was doing in that neighborhood? It’s unusual that he would drive there after the conference if he wasn’t stopping to see one of you guys.”

Several seconds pass, and Ann’s eyes widen as if she wants me to relay what he’s saying, but he hasn’t spoken. “Nothing,” I mouth and continue to wait.

“I don’t know.” His voice sounds far away, as if he’s trying to piece something together but doesn’t remember the question. “I’m sure it was nothing. Just the wrong place at the wrong time, like we’d always thought. Your father was a standup guy, so there’s no reason to borrow trouble. I know it must be difficult not knowing what happened or why it happened but finding out isn’t going to change anything. I’m sorry, Dear, I’ve got to go.” The phone clicks in my ear.

“Well.” I drop the receiver onto the cradle. “That didn’t get me anywhere.”

Ann raises her hands in the air. “Yes, it does. You know he wasn’t on the other side of town to play poker. And that’s the only legitimate reason he would be that far away from home at that hour of the night. Something happened for him to be there.”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I feel like we’re trying to make something out of nothing. What if we fall down this rabbit hole for no reason?” I run a hand through my hair. “Never mind. This is stupid. The reason he was over there is not important and none of my business. Maybe he was seeing an old girlfriend from high school. Someone he’d recently reconnected with, and she didn’t come forward because she doesn’t watch the news.”

“And she’s been waiting three months for your dad to show back up? What did he do? Go out for milk and cigarettes and disappear? Don’t you think she would have said something by now?”

“I don’t know.” I pace the floor from my desk to the panel of windows and back. “This has got to go on the backburner with the board of directors on my case. I don’t have time to go on a wild goose chase. If I don’t get control of this situation, I’m going to lose the company.”

Ann braces her hands on her hips. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

“No. There’s nothing to do right now. Leo has his programs scanning the system, trying to identify the IP address the virus came from and locate where the siphoned money is going.” I sigh, “God, I’m tired just thinking about everything. Until he’s got a suspect or suspects rounded up, I’ve got to continue damage control. If the stock prices don’t tank, I think I’ll be able to hold them off.”

“A bunch of assholes.” Her eyes flash in anger.

One corner of my mouth rises. “See, that’s what I need. Moral support.” I frown. “What were you doing here in the first place?”

“Inviting you for a lunch date with me.”

I lift my arm and pull up my sleeve. “It’s ten o’clock.”

“It’s at a tattoo parlor.” She grins. “You need to take your mind off things, and I’m getting my nipples pierced.”

“You’re what?”

“Yes. It’s a surprise for Sean. He got another dick piercing when the baby was born, so I’m getting nipple rings for him.”

“You two are crazy.” A tattoo shop. Where did Leo say his friend worked? I wrinkle my nose. I don’t think he said.

I glance at the papers on my desk. I’ve been here since 4 a.m. staring at these pages. Until Leo discovers something, I have nothing to do. I finished my actual work hours ago. “Sure. I’ll go with you. Give me ten minutes to use the restroom.”

This will give me something to do besides draw scribbles of Leo and I’s initials with hearts around them. Considering I’m not thirteen, it’s probably a more constructive to get out of the office and do something productive. Or, at the very least, watch my best friend get her nipples pierced.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Kinsley

Sinfully Twisted Inkis classy from the outside of the building to the black and white shined to perfection tile floors. I’m impressed. Is this the type of business where Leo got his work done?

The paintings on the walls are professionally done. Some are of tattoo designs, some are physical portraits of what appears to be customers with their new ink, and a handful are family portraits. “This is not what I expected.”

A woman with pink hair steps into the lobby. “Did you expect a guy with a too-tight T-shirt that showcased his beer gut while spitting his chewing tobacco into a half-empty soda bottle?”

My face floods with heat. She’s small but gives off a vibe of confidence in her own skin.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone would hear me.”

Ann laughs and gives the woman a quick hug. “Rissa, ignore my virgin friend here.”

I frown. “I’m not a virgin.”

---