Page 15 of Holding His Hostage
April rolled her eyes and moved to the sink, rinsing out her bowl, while Sloan tried again to answer. “Nothing like that. I was—”
“Ooh, did it get run over by a Humvee?”
Sloan leaned back in his chair. “Nope.”
“Did somebody stab you?”
“Nope.” He smiled at Fiona, who seemed truly interested in their conversation and not at all disturbed.
“Somebody shot my dad,” she said, putting her lips on the edge of the bowl to scoop marshmallows into her mouth.
Sloan turned to the girl, suddenly interested.
“Shut up,” yelled Lucas.
Fiona slurped up a diamond-shaped marshmallow, her eyes never leaving Sloan’s. “He’s in heaven with the angels.”
Jesus Christ.
Sloan didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. David had been murdered?
“There’s no such thing as heaven,” said Lucas, picking up his bowl and dropping it into the sink with a clang.
“Yes, there is! Mommy said so.”
“She lied,” said Lucas, storming out of the kitchen.
The little girl’s face fell and her bottom lip quivered.
“Lucas,” snapped Sloan, but the boy was already gone. He squeezed Fiona’s arm. “He’s just kidding, honey. Of course there’s a heaven.”
“Do you promise?”
“Absolutely.” The girl seemed to accept that and went back to eating, clearly trying to avoid anything that wasn’t a marshmallow.
He stood and made coffee, careful to keep his distance from April. She had the air of a frightened animal, and he didn’t want her to bolt. On the contrary, he wanted information. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. How long ago did he pass away?”
“Thursday.”
Fuck, no wonder Jo was a wreck. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. There was definitely a connection between David’s death and Jo’s sudden need for money, and he wondered if the other man had left an insurance policy to provide for his family. “What happened?”
The girl shrugged. “We don’t know. He was at his hunting cabin.”
“So it was an accident?”
April looked pointedly at Fiona, then back at Sloan. “No.”
“I see,” he said, but he didn’t really understand at all. He’d have to have Moto look into it for him. “Where do you live?”
“Just outside of Chicago.”
He pulled out his phone and texted Moto, who’d just gone on assignment with Trace out in Wyoming, but hopefully he could find some time to learn what really happened to David Regan.
Joanne appeared in the doorway. “I can’t believe I slept so late.” She kissed the top of Fiona’s head. “Lucky Charms, eh? Your favorite.”
“Marshmallows,” said the girl.
Jo headed for the coffeepot. “Morning, April.”
