Her long, brown hair hangs in front of her breasts. She’s wearing a neat, fitted grey suit and black heels. The woman is actually pretty for her age. I guess her to be close to Dad’s age. Her dark eyes probe me, narrowing as if she can peel off the top of my skull and look inside. I’d gladly show her the darkness if she promises to take some with her when she exits.
“Mr. McPherson, this is my partner Steve Shilling. I’m not sure if you remember him or not.” How could I fucking forget his disgusting ass? “You were still sort of groggy from your surgery,” she says and then frowns. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about Baylee Winston.”
“I told you that—” Dad starts, but she cuts him off.
“I took your statement, Mr. McPherson, and now I’d like to hear his.”
Dad sighs but nods toward me. I meet her eyes and furrow my brows together. “Baylee didn’t shoot me,” I grumble. “That psychopath Gabe did.”
“Gabriel Sharpe?” Her question is more of a statement. The woman may be questioning me but it seems as if she knows more than she’s letting on.
“Yes, and he took her. He took my girl.”
She raises both eyebrows at me and glances at Shilling. “You do realize she’s just that, right? A girl.”
Anger bubbles in my chest. “She’s eighteen. Have I done something wrong? Why are you here—again—instead of searching for her?”
Dad strides over to my bedside and touches my shoulder. His touch causes me to stiffen, but unlike before, it soothes rather than maddens me. And that is all because of Baylee. Her ability to slay the demons in my head so that I can be somewhat human. Normal even. Well, almost. “Calm down, son.”
“Anyway, her age is beside the point right now,” Stark clips out in annoyance. “What I’m trying to make sense of is her disappearance, Brandon Thompson’s involvement, her neighbor’s involvement, and the sudden disappearance of her father. Additionally, I’d like to inquire more about the sex ring you alluded to in your emails. How did you come to acquire Miss Winston, Mr. McPherson?”
Her barrage of questioning has my head spinning and Dad glowering at her and shaking his head.
“Perhaps we should contact our lawyer,” he says with a growl. “You’ve got no right to barge in here and accuse my son of anything. He’s innocent of whatever it is you’re cooking up. Warren loved that girl and she loved him back. He protected her from that bastard and took care of her when her own father turned his back on her. You’re barking up the wrong tree, detective.”
A smile plays at her lips. “Just tell me what you know so we can do our job to find the missing girl and to put this madman behind bars.”
Dragging my gaze from hers, I inspect the tray on my bedside table with disgust. I can handle the applesauce but that chicken broth shit looks deadly. They’ll have to knock my ass out and pour it down my throat because I won’t willingly allow it anywhere near my mouth.
“Mr. McPherson…” she trails off, jerking my attention from the abomination they want me to ingest.
“I, er…saved her from that place. I’d thought I was donating to a hospital, some pediatric foundation. My sister died when my mom delivered her prematurely. It was my way of contributing to other families in need.” The lie stumbles off my tongue but I’m not about to go to prison. I’ll die before that happens. Not with Baylee out there in danger. “Anyway, I took Baylee to my house. She told me all about how Gabe took her straight from her bedroom, to some cabin out in the middle of nowhere, raped her repeatedly, and then sold her to a sex ring called White Collar Trade that was hiding under the ruse of a pediatric fundraiser benefit.”
Shilling jots down my notes as Stark nods and approaches me. I don’t flinch and work to remain resolutely composed. The last thing I need is for her to sense my weakness and pick apart my mental illnesses. My gaze meets Dad’s irritated one but he nods for me to continue.
“Forrester ‘Buck’ Whitehead was his name,” I tell her. “It was his wife I donated to. You should be able to find record of the funds transfer. I’m not sure if you know this or not, but he was murdered. Gabe killed him to find out where Baylee was hiding. He knew they’d have my last name at the very least.”
Her partner continues to take notes, but at a more hurried pace.
“We’ll look into that,” she says and frowns. “What do you know about Brandon Thompson?”
I shrug my shoulders and it pulls at the incisions on my chest. Grimacing, I shoot her a pained look. “Not much. Besides that he was Baylee’s boyfriend…before.” I look up to find both detectives looking at me expectantly. Detective Shilling has stopped the note taking, his pen suspended in the air as if waiting for me to continue. “We grew close while she stayed with me. Long after she turned eighteen, we fell in love. I’m going to marry her and protect her as soon as we find her.”
Stark’s gaze softens. “Do you think Brandon could have anything to do with Baylee’s disappearance?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so…he’s just a kid. Gabe came for her alone.”
“Can you tell us anything concerning the whereabouts of Anthony Winston?”