The only new thing here was the idea of an investigator of some sort. She knew she should feel grateful, even though the move was pretty clunky in light of how much time had passed and all the comments he’d made. Still, she couldn’t shake the sense that this was a way of scolding her.
“I’ve hired a professional who will study every one of your files and provide us with a report. We can finally have some objective comments and then put this matter to bed.”
“No.” There were reasons and arguments, but she didn’t bother with any of them. Didn’t take the paper either.
He dropped it on the coffee table in front of him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She would not let him control this and shift the answer in the direction he wanted. Rather than question his version of “objectivity” she went with a more neutral explanation, one that happened to be true.
“There already is a private party investigating the entire matter. He’s talked with me and Detective Cryer. He has all the paperwork and files.” Hyperbole seemed to be called for here, so she went with it. Her father was not one to back down easily. He had to be whacked.
His scowl hit full force. “Who?”
“Someone Senator Dayton recommended.” Again, a partial truth, but Emery felt fine using it. “In fact, I met with her and the investigator. Everything has started. We have the best people looking into this.”
“What is the man’s name?”
Of course he assumed it would be a man. He just happened to be right this time. “That’s not important.”
“Of course it is. I need to talk with him.”
That was never going to happen. “You can’t until he asks to see you. He insisted on anonymity. That’s the way he works. It’s so he’s not improperly influenced and conducts a totally objective review.”
She kept skirting the truth, something that should make her feel guilty. She didn’t even experience a twinge. Her father planned to come in, take over under the guise of “relieving some of the burden” and then control it all. Well, she wasn’t in the mood for that game. When it came to Tiffany, Emery knew she couldn’t let her father’s demanding nature win.
“That’s ridiculous,” he said in a voice growing more agitated by the second. “I was there. A grown-up. You were only a child.”
“Then you’ll likely be interviewed.” She tried to imagine Wren interrogating her dad and her mind refused to go there. “Hey, he’s in charge, not me.”
“You can’t possibly afford the proper kind of review.” Her father looked around as he said the words, as if to drive home the fact she had limited resources.
“I’m not paying for it.” She’d finally said the first completely true thing . . . which got her wondering as to how Wren was going to get compensated. She doubted he ran his business and paid for those suits by performing tons of unplanned-for pro bono work.
“Who is?”
“The point is that you don’t need to worry about this issue.” She spied what she feared was the corner of her abandoned underwear tucked under the side of the couch. “It’s out of my hands. The investigator has started and will eventually go through all of this.” She got up and walked in the opposite direction of the underwear. “We should go.”
“What?”
She slipped her shoes back on, almost groaning at how the tops pinched her feet. “I thought we were having dinner.”
“This conversation is not over.” He didn’t even stand up.
“It actually is.” She grabbed her keys and walked to the door, keeping her back to him and not watching to see if he followed. She turned around at the last minute. “You can use the meal to tell me everything else I’m doing wrong with my life. That should be fun for you.”
“Emery.”
“I can tell you about the attempted break-in.” She knew that would get his attention.
He stood up slowly. “Here?”
She didn’t intend to explain about her round-the-clock bodyguards, so she just answered the question he asked. “Yes.”
“And yet you continue to sleep here by yourself?” He shook his head. “Absolutely not. You need to come home and stay with me.”
“I’m staying with Caroline.” What was one more lie in a series of many? And this one saved her from being pulled back to her father’s house, the absolutely last place she wanted to stay. “I was just stopping here to check the place and meet you.”
“That is not good enough. Your safety comes first.”
She opened the door. “No, food does.”
CHAPTER 18
His private line rang a little after ten that night. Wren was still in the office because the morning coffee runs and evenings spent digging around in Tiffany’s case meant he had to put in extra hours on his company’s cases. If the result turned out to be another night like the last one, sprawled across Emery’s bed, he’d go without sleep for a month. That woman was absolutely worth the overtime.
He picked up on the first ring. No need to play games when he knew the identity of the caller. Could almost smell her just from seeing her name come across his cell screen.
“Are you home?” Because he could swing by for a few minutes, or hours.
Emery laughed on the other end of the line. “Almost.”