Page 121 of Gilt

“It’s not so much that her father is unknown. It’s more that he’s hidden. Well, I might add.”

“Why would they do that?” I ask. None of this makes sense. It had been hard enough to process that we had different fathers, but hearing the lengths my parents have gone to in order to bury that information is inconceivable.

“I asked myself the same question, so I started doing a little digging. I looked for your parents’ names in conjunction with other legal proceedings. Adoption records, court records.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Were you aware that your family accepted a large settlement from Nathaniel West about thirteen years ago?” he asks.

I nod. “My dad sued him in civil court for cutting him out of the business they started.”

My parents used the funds as seed money to start Pawnography in an attempt to recapture the American dream he’d lost to his business partner.

Dominic rubs his temples. It’s not the answer he’s hoping for. “That’s all I have so far. It’s not much.”

I can’t help but think it’s a lot more than he thinks. Someone has gone to an awful lot of trouble to keep this quiet.

“How much do I owe you?” I ask him, taking my wallet from my purse.

Dominic holds up a chubby hand. “Nothing today. I haven’t gotten the information you asked for.”

“But you’ve been working on it,” I say slowly.

“I’ll be happy to bill you when I’ve figured this out.”

I had no idea private investigators came with a satisfaction guarantee. Then again, considering his hourly billing rate, I deserve more answers.

“I’ll be in touch,” he promises.

I leave his office with more questions than answers. My mind churns through an endless stream of theories, many so ridiculous that I actually laugh at myself. I’m so distracted that I don’t bother to check my surroundings when I exit his building. When I remember, I glance around, checking every angle. There’s no one in sight.

Apparently, being investigated for murder makes one both reckless and cautious.

As if he can read my thoughts, Jameson calls.

“World’s best girlfriend,” I answer glibly.

“Where are you, Duchess?” he asks in a lowered voice that’s so deep that I get goosebumps.

“Running errands.” It’s not a lie, technically.

“Without your bodyguard?” he guesses.

“Are you asking or do you know?”

“I know. Maddox called to tell me you had him running the maid to the grocery store,” he says.

“We’re out of eggs.”

He pauses and I brace myself for a lecture. “Just promise me that you’re being careful.”

“I am. Look, there’s no safer place to be than on a suspect list.” Whoever is framing me wants me alive. I could run around Vegas naked with my hair on fire, and no one would touch me.

“Will I see you tonight?” he asks.

“You’ll see me every night,” I reassure him before we hang up. He’ll see me tonight, but I have a very important date to keep first.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE