Chapter 11 - HIS OFFICE
Richard tried to keep me standing in the reception area like a child who had arrived without an appointment.
I refused.
By the time his assistant told him I was there, I was already halfway down the hall toward the executive offices, Nina beside me and Margaret a calm force at my shoulder. The women at the desks looked up in stunned silence as I walked past.
My father’s office door opened before I reached it.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.
“What you should have expected,” I said. “Asking questions in person.”
His office smelled like leather, cologne, and expensive control. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the lot. Sales banners snapped in the wind outside. Somewhere below us a car horn chirped and fell silent.
Richard did not invite us to sit.
So I sat anyway.
“We know about the forged parcel transfer,” I said. “We know about K Hale Holdings. We know Daniel was reviewing the financing. We know somebody tried to refinance my house yesterday with a false power of attorney. And we know Daniel’s loaner had a brake warning removed before the crash.”
He laughed once, short and ugly. “You know a lot for someone who never paid attention to business.”
“That’s the same thing people say right before they get caught.”
For one second his eyes changed. Not much. Just enough.
Then he recovered. “Daniel filled your head with nonsense. He was emotional, reckless, drowning in debt—”
“No,” I said. “You’re describing panic, and panic looks terrible on you.”
Nina placed copies of the forged signatures and insurance amendment on his desk. “You are under notice to preserve all records related to these transactions.”
Richard did not touch the papers.
“You think I’m afraid of paper?”
“No,” I said. “I think you’re afraid of timing. That’s why you threw me out when you did. You needed the safe before the bank froze your loan.”
He leaned forward, both palms flat on the desk. “You were going to lose that house anyway.”
The room snapped tight around the sentence.
Margaret spoke first. “Interesting phrasing.”
Richard looked at her, realized what he had said, and straightened. “Meaning the Mercers overleveraged the property. Ask your daughter-in-law how much Daniel told her.”
“More than you hoped,” I said.
His lip curled. “You always were dramatic.”
That might once have worked on me. It had worked when I was sixteen and he told me I had imagined the way he smashed a plate against the counter. It had worked when I was twenty-one and he said my mother’s land was too complicated for me to understand. It had worked when I was twenty-eight and he implied Daniel was filling my head with ideas above my station.
It did not work now.
I stood, every joint protesting, and put both hands on his desk.
“Did you touch that car?” I asked quietly.
He met my eyes. “Be careful.”
I held the stare. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only warning you’re getting.”
Nina snapped her briefcase shut. “We’re done.”
On our way out, Kelsey stepped from the adjoining private lounge, face pale. She had heard enough to know how bad it sounded.
Our eyes met.
For the first time since the porch, she did not smirk.
That should have felt like something.
Instead my victory lasted until we reached the parking garage and found Margaret’s car with the rear window smashed in. Glass glittered across the seat. The leather case containing Daniel’s recovered USB copy was gone.
I stood there in the concrete quiet, heart thudding.
Richard had just told me to be careful.
May you like
Then someone had stolen the evidence in broad daylight.
📖 My father slipped once, threatened me twice, and before we made it out of his building, someone proved he was willing to attack more than just my name. 👇
