My head jerks back. “Why would I know anything about that?”
Langley steps closer, and whispers, “Look, we know you’re involved in some questionable activities to find your mother’s murderer. If you have leads, we can help, but don’t screw up your future. A lot has happened to you, but you have a choice. You don’t have to go down this road. You have a lovely wife. You’re both within a semester of graduating and starting your lives. Don’t throw it away on tenuous information.”
Tenuous? He might have a point, but I’m not giving them any information about what I’m doing. They’ve had four years to solve her murder, and they haven’t. I’m not willing to let it go like they have. Madeline Kingwood deserves more than what she’s been given.
I’m tempted to ask if they have real bad guys to go chase, but maybe I truly am the bad guy in their minds. “Thanks for the advice, Dad,” I say, walking away. “From now on, go through my lawyer, or we’ll file harassment charges.”
Langley nods to Sara Jane, but Brown calls, “We still have questions for you, Sara Jane.”
They’ve got some big fucking balls. I stop, holding my hand up to Sara Jane indicating to stay quiet. Looking back, my glare hits Brown. “Don’t you ever address my wife by anything other than her married name.”
It’s quick, but I catch the hint of fear—his eyes squinting, his mouth gaping open like a fish in need of water. We turn and leave.
I open the car door for Sara Jane and when she slips inside, I look back, met by two pairs of critical eyes. I flip them off before I get into the car, followed by Cruise slipping into the backseat.
Silence befalls the car as we leave the lot. We cover two blocks before she says, “We’ve not talked about that day much. What happened.”
It’s not a question, but it’s leading. “Do you want to? I thought you might not.”
“It happened. As much as I wish it didn’t, it did, so maybe we should. Just get it all out, so we don’t have to another time.”
I can’t bring myself to offer up much or to really kick this conversation off. “Okay.”
“I know what happened. I know what you did.”
I know what you did contaminates the air, so I roll down the window to freshen it.
When I don’t say anything, she says, “He killed Chad. I would have done the same to that bastard.”
Her gaze stays outside the window, the world whizzing by. “Jason won’t tell me why he was there or why he’s still here.”
“I’ve asked him several times myself.” I keep the sarcasm to myself.
Whipping around to face me, she asks, “You weren’t having him spy on me?”
“No, I was. I just don’t know why he showed up when I did or why he stays.”
“You were paying him?” Ooh, she’s pissed. My bad. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to admit that. “Ugh. How could you, Alexander?”
As much as I want to protect her from everything bad, I’ve failed so far, so I need a new tactic. Since Cruise is remaining quiet, I’m going with the truth. “Because I was worried about you. You disappeared. You left everything behind. I thought you had been kidnapped until we saw tapes of you walking out of the building of your own free will.”
“Yes, I left on purpose. I left to save what little sanity I had left at that time, but you couldn’t let me go—”
“No. I couldn’t. Did you let me go? In your heart, did you let me go?”
“No, but I tried. For a short time, I tried. It was useless. I knew it was temporary, but I had to. I needed a routine I didn’t have to think about, a life that wasn’t consuming me, a heart free from pain, a change of scenery that didn’t remind me of your father’s breath on my back.”
“Did you have that while you were away, Sara Jane? Did you find what you were looking for? What you needed?”
“No, Alexander. I didn’t. I lived simply, a quiet daily routine with a mindless job. I lived a life surrounded by people who didn’t ask me anything and didn’t dig into my past. None of that erased you from my thoughts or my heart. Not even temporarily giving me a reprieve.” She reaches over and covers my wrist while I hold the steering wheel. “But once I truly understood there’s no me without you and no you without me I knew I couldn’t stay there any longer.” Relaxing back, she adds, “Driving back, I felt alive again. I felt my heart beating in my chest, anxious to see you again. And then the blue sedan . . .” She takes a deep breath. I can’t imagine the fear she must have felt when she was forced off the road.
Turning toward me, she asks, “If you knew where I was, why did you wait so long to come to me?” She composes herself to move past the horror. My God, she is strong.
I blow out a breath and think before I speak. The answer is complicated, like my emotions over her leaving in the first place. “You saved yourself. But I was selfish and needed you, wanted you, so I gave in and went to see you. I didn’t find the girl I once knew.”
Whispering as if dreading my response, she asks, “Who did you find?”
“The woman I knew you always to be.”
Touching my arm, she whispers, “Who am I, Alexander?” The queen—the female with power, destined to reign.
“Stronger than you were, braver than you thought. You’re here and your scars make you even more beautiful.”
I look out through the windshield ahead. The trees make a canopy, the stars hidden from view. Under her careful scrutiny, she angles toward me. “I’m yours. Till death do us part.”
*
“What am I looking at?” Alone in the penthouse, I stare at the monitor, trying to decipher the medical record. Fuck. I call her number not really expecting her to answer. But she does.
“What the hell do you want, King? I gave you the password.” Shelly sounds furious, but I’m determined to use that anger for good.
“I need your help. Please.”
She’s stewing. I can hear her breathing, but she acquiesces. “Fine.”
“Thank you. Chad had April Dorset’s medical records. I need to know why. Can you see the file from the email on your computer?”
“Yes. Whatever. I’ll look it up now.”
After a few minutes, where I could practically feel her outrage through the computer, she answers, “If you go to the second page of the file, you’ll see that April gave birth when she was seventeen.”
My dad was mid-twenties. The bastard. I figured she’d been young, but not that young. The thought of my father preying on a girl for his own entertainment disgusts me. The more I learn about him, the more I hate him, and I honestly didn’t think that was possible at this stage.
She continues, “Alexander Kingwood the second is listed as her guardian in the medical file.”
“The third.”
“What?”
“My father is Alexander Kingwood the third. Everyone confuses it.”
“Look at page three. Don’t you think it’s odd it says the second?”
“No. It happens all the time.”
“I would think they would be more careful in medical files.”
“If there are humans involved, there are mistakes to be made.”
“Are you sure it’s a mistake?”