“No one knows that,” Kace argues. “Just me and your father.”
“What about Gio?” Blake suggests. “Wasn’t he there, too?”
“He was,” Kace agrees, “but he was never present when I was with her father.”
“Maybe her father told him about his time with you,” Blake offers.
“Gio doesn’t even play an instrument,” I say. “He didn’t ever want to play. He wanted to learn the business side of violin-making. Which to point out: Kace’s training wouldn’t have been a topic my father and Gio would have discussed.”
“You can’t know that,” Blake says. “You are assuming and we can’t afford to assume. That said, anyone close to your father, or even Kace, who had handlers and security, might have picked up on something between them. And as we all know, the formula is a priceless commodity.”
“We wrote a song,” Kace says. “Just a song.”
“You know that,” Blake counters. “Only you. And her father, who is missing.”
“Who is dead,” I say, my throat tight with those words despite the years that have passed.
Blake doesn’t comment. He’s focused on Kace. “What if Gio thinks you have the formula? His father did call you the one real daisy. Maybe that’s some sort of code for the keeper of the formula.”
Kace grimaces. “He, or anyone else for that matter, can’t possibly believe his father gave a sixteen-year-old stranger a formula.”
“Sometimes a stranger is safer than those close to you,” Blake replies. “And you were never a normal kid or teenager. Think about it. This gives us a reason that Gio would want Aria to get close to you. That allows him to get close to you and the formula.”
“He’s not even here,” I say. “He’s missing. And my brother knows I’d kill him for pulling such a stunt.”
“Exactly why he might not ask for the help,” Blake suggests. “He’d set you up to give it to him.”
“And yet I get a text message that’s warning me away from Kace?” I challenge.
“Is it a warning?” he counters. “Digest the words of that text: Look for the daisy in the wind. Be careful or you’ll end up dead. That could be instructions, perhaps from Gio himself.”
I shake my head. “No. No, this is not Gio. I don’t believe that. This is not how he’d communicate with me.”
“Let’s cut to the chase,” Kace says, frustration roughening up his tone. “Where does this leave us? Can the text be traced?”
“It cannot,” Blake replies. “Unfortunately, there’s a wild array of ways to send an untraceable text. Which is why, no doubt, this came to Aria as a text. As for where this leaves us? It leaves me doing my job. There’s an operation called The Underground. They treasure hunt and play a role in keeping the modern-day mob in check, which I won’t get into. They’re worldwide, but the leader of the European operation, Kayden Wilkens, is a close friend. If someone wanted to hire someone to find it, they’d eventually end up with The Underground. And since this originates in Europe, in Italy where he’s based, they’d end up with him.”
“You think my brother had gone, or will go, to him?” I ask.
“I think your brother wouldn’t have a reason to go to him if he thinks Kace has the formula.”
“We don’t know that he thinks any such thing,” I remind him.”
“Fair enough,” Blake concedes, “but I also don’t think your brother had the funds to hire The Underground. They aren’t cheap.”
“He handed me a wad of cash,” I rebut. “He could have cash I don’t know about.”
“Or,” Blake replies, “maybe we’ll find out that someone else, with or without Gio’s involvement, funded the money to hire The Underground.”
“Like Sofia,” Kace suggests.
“Like Sofia,” Blake agrees. His phone buzzes with a text and he yanks it from his pocket, glances at the message, and then back at us. “I need to run unless you can think of something else?” He stands up and sticks his phone back into his pocket.
Kace and I are already on our feet as well. “What’s your take on Aria being in danger?” Kace asks.
“And Kace being in danger?” I ask, glancing up at him. “You’re the one true daisy, remember?”
“Quite well,” he says tightly, his lips pressed together.
“Nothing has changed,” Blake says. “And if this is Gio we’re dealing with, the risk is even less. He’s not going to hurt Aria or risk hurting Aria.”
“It’s not Gio,” I insist.
“I’m looking at all options or I wouldn’t be calling Kayden Wilkens,” Blake assures me before he eyes Kace. “Can I get a copy of that song you wrote with Aria’s father?”
“No,” Kace says, his tone absolute. “I promised Aria’s father no one would see it. That man impacted my life. I’m not dishonoring his.”
Blake’s lips quirk. “And you wonder why he would trust a sixteen-year-old with the formula. You won’t even give me a song.” He heads for the door.