Page 96 of Defending You
“Is that what you tell yourself? What did you do when you discovered your son had betrayed you?”
The question escaped before she could stop it, hanging in the stale air between them.
Gagnon went perfectly still. When he turned, his pale eyes were arctic. “What did you say?”
She should have been terrified into silence, but something reckless had taken hold. Maybe it was grief over Asher’s death, or maybe it was the knowledge that she was going to die no matter what she did. “He’s the one who sold that bag of jewelry, isn’t he? Your own son?”
He said nothing, just glared at her, daring her to keep talking.
“Unless you lied to Mr. D—which, maybe you did.” By the look on his face—pure hatred—Cici guessed he hadn’t lied. “Then I know your son’s decision to sell that bag of jewels is the reason we’re here. If love is a liability, then I can only assume you aren’t affected by such problematic emotions.”
Gagnon’s face turned a dangerous shade of red, but she didn’t care if she made him angry. What did she have to lose now?
Asher had told her she was good at prying information out of people. She might as well employ that skill. Maybe she’d learn something useful.
“Actually,” she said, “I guess you probably sent one of the many people you keep dangling from your puppet strings to take care of him. That’d be easier, offer a little distance.” She forced a casual tone, as if the thought of murdering one’s own child didn’t turn her stomach, holding Gagnon’s eye contact when every instinct screamed at her to look away. “You might as well tell me. I’m going to die as soon as you find that locket.”
Or maybe not. Maybe he’d keep her alive, and she’d be his leverage against anyone looking for her. Her father, her cousins… They wouldn’t stop until Gagnon paid for her murder, but if she were still alive, if they had hope she could be rescued—and fear she’d be tortured or killed—then Gagnon could keep on breathing.
She had no idea what his plans were, but she figured this wasn’t going to end with a bubble bath and a good night’s sleep. So she wanted to know. She needed to know all the ugly detailsthat had gotten her into this terrible mess. And gotten Asher killed.
Gagnon’s breathing was controlled, measured, but she could see the rage simmering beneath his polished exterior as he stalked toward her. “You want the truth?” He crouched in front of her, his voice dropping to that terrifying whisper. “Since you’re so eager to understand the depths of my cruelty.”
He leaned so close she could smell his breath, minty with an undertone of decay.
She pressed against the cabinet, trying to put distance between them. What was she doing, goading a psychopath? She should’ve kept her mouth shut. Either way, she was going to die, but she feared now there’d be a lot more pain involved.
“Do not speak of my son.”
She nodded. She’d agree to just about anything at this point.
He stood and moved to the desk, giving her fresh air to breathe. “He got himself addicted to drugs. And gambling. I’ve paid his debts. I’ve tried to help him. I’ve tried to protect him. He doesn’t know what I do, only that I’m a very wealthy man.”
Gagnon spoke about his son in the present tense. There was hope in that.
He lifted The Crimson Duchess. “I assume you know where this came from?”
She nodded.
“Since your sister and Forbes Ballentine are an item…”
How did he know that? It wasn’t exactly public information that they were dating.
He must’ve seen her surprise because he smiled that evil little smile. “You’d be surprised at the things I know about you.”
She worked to hide the fear his words raised in her. It was one thing for her to be in danger, another thing entirely for her to suck her entire family into peril with her.
“I know all about Brooklynn,” Gagnon said. “I know about all your sisters, and your mother and father. It’s my job to know everything about everybody.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Haven’t found anything to use as leverage against you yet, except of course their lives, but your father has them all wrapped up tight, all but the missing one.”
Delaney. Did he know where she was? If so, then he’d be able to get to her, considering nobody knew where Delaney had gone. If Gagnon held that card, he didn’t show it.
“I assume,” Gagnon continued, “you’re aware that Leo Taggart and Lois Stratton were the ones who shot Charles and Grace Ballentine that day. Taggart was the shooter, of course, but the woman wasn’t exactly against the idea, not from what I saw. I was a small cog in the operation. I’d be surprised if either one of them even knew my name, back then.”
“You were there, though. You searched the house. You stole that necklace.”
He caressed the jewels like a better man might caress a beloved child. “This is the piece that started my business, my life.” He lifted his gaze to her. “It was foolish of me to keep it, but I never could bring myself to dispose of it.”
Peoplehe could dispose of, no problem. But jewelry proved difficult?
