“Greta, I need to see Dad. Is he in?” I asked as I strode towards Dad’s office without slowing. Even if he wasn’t in, Colt and I were waiting inside for him.
“He’s in, but he’s on the phone with Congressman–Willow! You can’t go in there!” Greta called as I grabbed the doorknob, twisted, and shoved the door open.
Dad was leaned back in his chair, staring out of the window as Colt, then Greta, followed me into the office. I stopped just inside the door as he spun to see who’d come in, frowning at me as he continued to listen to the phone.
“Okay, that sounds good, but I want my lawyers to look it over before I endorse your bill. Yes, send it over and we’ll get back to you. Thank you.” He hung up the phone as he glared at me. “This had better be damned important for you to barge in here like this,” he growled, his displeasure clear in his tone. I may be his daughter, but that didn’t give me the right to be a bitch.
“We know who,” I said as I held his gaze with my own.
After a moment, Dad’s eyes flicked to Greta. “Thank you, Greta. If you’ll excuse us.”
“It’s Aunt Pam,” I said the moment the door clicked shut.
Dad stared at me for a long moment, his disbelief plain on his face as he paled. “Are you sure?” he finally asked.
“Someone broke into my house last night. They were armed and clearly looking for me. We have it on video.”
Dad continued to watch me before he pulled a small amulet from around his neck, opened it, and shook a tiny pill into his hand before he popped it under his tongue.
“Dad! Are you okay?” I asked as I hurried around the desk.
He leaned backward in his chair, his head resting on the chair’s tall back, saying nothing. I’d seen this enough times to know I needed to give him a moment, and after a pause, he nodded. After a longer moment he slowly sat forward again.
“Fucking Angina,” he said, his voice a shadow of its normal self. “I could feel it coming on.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you.”
He sat a moment more, giving the pill a chance to work its magic, before rising out of his chair. “I’m upset, but not nearly as upset as Pam’s about to be,” he snarled as he marched toward the door.
We followed him as he strode down the hall and entered Aunt Pam’s office suite. He stomped past Sarah without a word and into his sister’s office. She was there with four men and a woman as they huddled over the small conference table littered with papers.
“All of you, get out. Now.” The men and woman looked at Dad, then Aunt Pam, and then each other. “Are you fucking deaf! I said get out! Now!” he roared, and the five scrambled to be the first out the door, everyone but the woman leaving their papers on the table.
“Harris! What the hell’s wrong with you?” Aunt Pam snapped as she stood beside her chair.
“How dare you! How fucking dare you!” he bellowed as Colt shut the door to the office.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t act innocent with me, Pamela. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ll fucking break you. I’ll have your ass so far under the jail it’ll take a fucking mining crew to find you.” The fact that Dad was speaking softly was far more frightening that if he’d been yelling.
“Harris! Calm down! What are you talking about?”
“Willow, goddammit! Someone broke into her house last night and tried to kill her!”
Aunt Pam looked at us in confusion then her eyes widened as she paled. “You think I had something to do with that?” she gasped, her voice quivering.
“Only you knew she was staying at her house! Except she wasn’t, she was staying at the Houstonian. She only told you that because we suspected it was you who was trying to have her killed.”
“What?” Aunt Pam cried. “I’m not trying to have her killed! How can you say such a thing? She’s like my own daughter!” Her eyes narrowed. “How do I know it wasn’t you? They told me they thought it was you who was trying to have her killed.”
“Because I knew they weren’t staying at her house and were staying at the Houstonian.”
Aunt Pam become even paler. “But I didn’t do it!” She looked at me. “Willow! I didn’t do it! I swear! I’d never hurt you!”
My confidence began to waver. Either Aunt Pam was an Oscar caliber actor, or she really didn’t know what was going on.
“Did you tell anybody?” Colt asked, his voice firm but not full of the condemnation that Dad’s voice had.
“No! Nobody!”
“Then how’d they know?” I asked.
Tears began to roll down Aunt Pam’s cheeks as she collapsed into her chair. “I don’t know! I swear! I didn’t do it! I’d never hurt you!” she said, her voice begging.
“Tell me why, Pamela. Your own niece!” Dad snarled.
“I didn’t!” she cried. “Willow, Harris, you have to believe me! I don’t have anything to do with this!”
“Save it. You can tell it to the police,” Dad growled as he turned toward her desk.
“Wait a minute,” Colt said softly. “Ms. Larke, look at me. Did you tell anyone? Anyone at all, where Willow and I were staying?”
“No! I swear! I didn’t tell a soul!”
Harris turned back to the phone.
“Wait!” Colt said again, his voice full of authority. “Pam, think. You didn’t tell anyone?”
“What are you driving at?” I asked.
“Why three days? Why did it take three days to make the hit? Why risk us getting away again?” He looked at Aunt Pam. “If you told anyone, now’s the time to tell us because otherwise you’re going to jail.”
She stared at each of us, one after other. “I didn’t tell anybody,” she whispered. “Only Alejandro.”
Colt stiffened beside me. “Where have I heard that name before?” he asked.
“My husband,” Aunt Pam said quietly. “I told him that someone had attacked you, and that you thought you knew who it was.” She glanced at Dad.
“Did you tell him we were staying in her house?” Colt demanded.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember. Maybe.”
“But you definitely told him we were back in town?” I asked, relief and hope pouring through me that my surrogate mother might not be trying to have me killed after all.
“Yes, why?” When nobody spoke, she realized what they were thinking. “Wait, you think Alejandro is doing this? Why? And how?”
“When did you tell him?” Colt asked.
“A couple of nights ago maybe. Maybe the night you told me you thought it was Harris, or maybe the next. I don’t remember exactly.”
“You told her you thought it was me?” Dad demanded as he looked at me, his face hard.
“Yes. We didn’t stay at the Houstonian either, just in case. It could have been either of you, or both, and I wasn’t taking any chances,” Colt said, his voice hard. “You said to keep her safe,” he continued, his tone daring Dad to challenge his decision.
Aunt Pam looked at Dad, the tiniest of smiles on her lips. “I told you he could do the job.”
Dad glared at Colt, but finally nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Do you often talk to him about work?” Colt asked Aunt Pam, dragging the conversation back to the topic at hand.
“He’s my husband. I don’t have secrets from him.”
“Did you tell him about Willow sinking a well?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember. Maybe. I remember telling him how excited she was, and how close she was getting to validating her software.” The three of us glanced at each other. “I don’t understand,” she continued. “How would he know where that was? And why would he do such a thing?”