Brilliantly psychopathic.
Fuck.
I looked around the bare rooms, walking along the joists. It was daylight, so I could see clearly without turning on any lights.
Ghosts lived here. That eerie feeling I couldn’t shake. Something was still hidden here.
I knew it.
I could feel it, like an ooze of evil crawling over my flesh.
Perhaps some memories are better left buried.
The thought speared into my head in my father’s voice.
“Fuck you,” I said aloud.
I forced him out of my head. It felt good. Damned good.
This cabin wasn’t even in my father’s name. It belonged to a company called Tamajor Corporation. Not a name I’d heard of, though I’d looked it up. Tamajor was a village development committee in a small district of Nepal. What was a village development committee? I still had no clear idea after reading up on it.
Not that it mattered. It wasn’t incorporated in Colorado. It was a Delaware corporation, and its registered agent was a woman named Laura Clarke, who had recently passed away from colon cancer. Nothing else was available, so I’d given the information to Joe to give to Mills and Johnson.
Nothing so far.
Joe checked in with the PIs once every day, and so far, the best PIs in the business hadn’t uncovered anything we didn’t already know.
Which was strange.
Because they were the best PIs in the business.
“Damn it, Dad,” I said aloud. “What are you hiding here? What the hell are you hiding?”
I didn’t expect an answer.
So I jerked in surprise, nearly jumping out of my boots and falling through the joists, when I got one.
Chapter Forty-Two
Marjorie
“You did well,” Ruby said, after swallowing a bite of her hamburger. “You’re a natural, which doesn’t surprise me, given your brothers are all excellent shots.”
“Thanks. Bryce wanted to come today, but I asked him not to.”
“Why?”
I laughed. “It’s really silly. I didn’t want him to see me screw it up.”
She joined in my laughter. “I never would have guessed. You seem so put together all the time. So full of self-esteem.”
Wow. What a crock. My scar itched. So put together? So full of self-esteem? Right.
“I’m just used to being judged by my father and brothers,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth. “They’re harsh critics, so I’ve learned to be good at anything I try before I make it known.”
“I can understand that. Ryan’s qu
ite the perfectionist, especially where his wines are concerned. I’ve seen him chuck an entire barrel if it’s not perfect. I’m learning, but I swear, the barrel he most recently tossed tasted delicious to me.”