“What’s wrong with you?” He looked her up and down and frowned.
He always did that. Made it clear he didn’t like what he saw. Reeked of disappointment. He wrapped his arms around his precious bag like it was a fragile baby. The one he always carried and hung on to like a shield. With her, he used his words like a whip.
She tried to figure out things to say. She didn’t welcome a game of verbal gymnastics or want to look for him to wiggle his way out of answering. She’d literally trashed her life and destroyed everything she had with Wren—the one man who meant something to her—and there needed to be a payoff. She deserved answers and so did Tiffany.
When she failed to come up with anything clever, she just spit out the question. “Have you been investigating the name Wren?”
His arms fell and he now held the bag by his side. “What’s this about? Is your boyfriend territorial and upset someone else is investigating this issue? And yes, I figured it out. You can do much better than him.” Her father waved her off and started to turn. “We’ll talk about all of this and whatever has you rattled later.”
Just as she feared. But this was too important for her to be ruled by fear. “Now, Dad.”
He sighed at her. “Emery, please. I don’t have time for nonsense. Today I’m supposed to—”
“I don’t care.” She took a step closer. The distance gave her comfort, but he used it as a way to hold her off. “How did you know that name?”
“What?”
She refused to back down. Not this time. “Wren.”
“This is ridiculous.”
The more he hedged, the more the anxiety churned inside her. “Just answer the question.”
“You told it to me.” Her father took his keys out of his pocket. Signaled that the conversation was over as far as he was concerned.
But she wasn’t done. “I didn’t, but you knew what to search.”
“This is what happens when you don’t concentrate. You aren’t remembering this correctly.”
Right on cue he flipped to condescension. She saw the plotting now. The tools he used to hold her off and minimize her. Wren might phrase things strangely, but he never talked down to her. He respected her, let her battle him.
Regret clogged her throat. The pain of losing him battered her now. Later it would have her curled in a ball and weeping. It had been years since she cried over a guy, and that one hadn’t been worth it. Wren was.
But right now she had another demon to battle. One she didn’t even understand existed until that morning. “I purposely didn’t tell you that name. So, how did you find out?”
All she needed was one reasonable comment. Maybe Uncle Gavin told him. Hell, she’d grab on to anything, but he offered nothing.
“Probably from Tyler, then. He’s worried about the influence this man has over you, and frankly, so am I.”
Dizziness struck her out of nowhere. She wanted to sit down, but she didn’t. She needed to be on her feet and in fighting form right now. Push every other emotion out. “Tyler didn’t know it either.”
“I’m going to work. You should do the same, though it would not be a tragedy to lose that position.” Her father marched up one step to the landing. “I’ll walk you out.”
“You weren’t in the house that night.” Saying the words left her feeling hollow.
He spun back around to face her. “What?”
Her knees started to give out. It took all of her energy to stay on her feet. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Actually, no. I don’t.” He stepped back down and put the bag on the step behind him.
“The night she disappeared.”
He didn’t hesitate or act surprised. “You’re the one who provided my alibi. You saw me and said so.”
“That’s not what the evidence shows.”
For a second he didn’t say anything. Then his mouth screwed up in an expression of pure hate. “What are you talking about?”
Without thinking, she stepped back. Her calf hit the coffee table, but she barely felt it. She negotiated around it, thinking for the first time in her life that she might not be safe around him. He hadn’t done anything specific, but a feeling of menace fell over the room. He stayed in control, but she didn’t know if he could maintain it.
“Are you okay?”
The sound of Wren’s voice had her snapping out of her blinding panic. She actually thought she dreamed him. That she wanted to see him so badly that she conjured him up. He stood there, frowning as his gaze flipped from her to her father.
When he moved she let out the breath she was holding. He was there. Right there. Then he was beside her with a hand on her lower back. He looked down, watched her with concern showing in every line of his body.
“How did you get in here?” Her father barked the question.
“The door was open.” Wren never broke eye contact with her. “Emery?”
She leaned into him, soaking up some of his strength. “He won’t give me any answers.”