Page 68 of Betrayed

I refilled my coffee, wishing I had some whiskey to take the edge off.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” I said, interrupted her reading.

“Everything okay?” Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

“Yeah, but I need to ask you a few questions.”

She sighed and put her book down.

Blake alternated between irritation, anger, and shock as she answered my questions. Huffing out answers without thinking, then apologizing.

She admitting to noticing her father had seemed more stressed than usual lately, but had chalked it up to Priscilla’s constant whining.

“A lot of the people who visit him give me the creeps. They’re old politicians who like to grope women and think they can get away with murder,” she said, exasperation thick in her voice.

“What about non-politicians?” I pushed.

“None that stand out. I was only there on weekends, so I didn’t see much.” She looked ashamed when she said, “To be honest, I always checked out during Daddy’s events, so I barely remember anyone I met.”

“No shame in that.”

Because she lived on campus during the week, she couldn’t really speak to changes or abnormalities in his schedule.

“Blake, I’m sorry I had to ask. We’re trying to put some pieces together.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t a complete lie, either.I still hate myself.

“You found something, didn’t you?”

I twirled my coffee cup in my hand. I didn’t want to lie, and she was smart, smarter than me, so there was no sense in playing word games to disguise the truth.

“They have, though I don’t know what it is. It sounds like it’s-”

She cut me off. “He’s innocent. He has to be.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but there’s a good chance he’s committed a few crimes.”

“No.” She stood up and slammed her cup on the table, causing coffee to spill over the rim. “I don’t believe it. I won’t.” She started crying. “My father is a good man.”

“Blake, please-”

She cut me off. “Please what? Listen? Why, so you can tell me what crimes you think he’s committed.” She crossed her arms but didn’t give me time to answer. “You think you know everything, but you don’t. You know nothing about my father.”

We know a few things. But she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear any of it.

She turned and ran to her room, leaving me struggling with what to do. I wanted to talk to her, help her see the truth, and then hold her and make everything better.But I'm the last person she wants to see right now.

Swearing into my cup, I fought back the urge to follow her.

Instead, I called John and relayed the few things she’d been able to tell me. Without names or specifics, it didn't help much.

Then I walked the interior of the house, stopping to listen at Blake’s door. It was quiet, so I continued walking.

I grabbed my book and sat on the couch, positioning myself so I could see the hall. And Blake’s bedroom door.

Chapter 34

Blake

Ithrew myself on my bed, buried my face in my pillow, and cried.

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