But he was not her friend. In fact, she was reasonably confident they’d never met.
He stood several inches taller than she did, probably five-nine or five-ten, and carried a few extra pounds around his midsection. His thin goatee matched his silver hair. Crow’s feet crinkled around both eyes and the skin in his tan cheeks had a little too much sag.
His words, the only ones he’d spoken so far, echoed in her mind. You look just like her.
The chill raced from her fingers up her arms, settling around her heart.
Her. Who was he talking about?
Be polite. End this fast.
She shook her head slowly.
At best, this guy was lost or confused. At worst, he was a creep.
Either way, she needed to end this and get him off her porch.
“Kevyn, there’s…” He blew out a long breath and raked his fingers through his short hair.
He knew her name! Well, there went her lost and confused option.
Which left creep. Maybe even creepy stalker. He knew her name and where she lived.
“Look. I don’t know who you are, but I think you need to leave. Now. If this is important, you can find me at the Federal Building with the rest of the FBI agents any day of the week.”
She stepped back and started to close the door.
“Wait!” His hand shot out, palm landing flat against the door’s surface. “I’m really botching this. I’ve rehearsed it so many times and now…” He focused direct eyes on her.
The bright porch lights reflected off the moisture lingering in his eyes.
Eyes that were an unusual shade of green. Mostly evergreen, with hints of sage around the edges.
A color she’d only ever seen in one place.
The mirror.
A brick dropped into her stomach. Air escaped from lungs which had forgotten how to function.
“My name’s Mitch Taylor.” A smile filled with fake confidence wobbled onto his face. “I’m your father.”
Father.
The word echoed in her mind as her body froze.
All the words she’d ever wanted to say, things she’d hashed out in her mind countless times over the years, fled.
Her father. On her doorstep. After a thirty-five year absence.
His smile, whether genuine or not, gained traction. “Yeah, I guess this would be a surprise. I mean, it’s been so long and all.”
“Thirty-five years!” The words burst from her as she charged through the door, forcing him to stumble back several steps. “And you have the gall to show up on my doorstep now?”
The smile faltered. He rolled his shoulders and tugged slightly at his collar. “Well, see, it’s uh, yeah. A long story. But I wanted–”
“I don’t give a rip what you want!” She could hardly hear anything over the pounding in her ears. Narrowed vision blacked out everything but him. The man who had the nerve to call himself her father! “You weren’t there! Not when we needed you. Not when Mum worked two jobs to provide for us. Not at holidays or birthdays. Not when Mum battled cancer for two years. Two years!”
His face took on an ashen hue in the dusk. “I – I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t! You walked away and never looked back!”
A flush crept up his neck. “You don’t know–”
“I don’t need to know anything else! You left. A father doesn’t do that.” Calm down. The words raced through her mind in repetition.
She was losing it. Giving him a power and hold over her that he didn’t deserve.
Inhaling a sharp breath, she glared at the man who dared to return. “You weren’t there when we needed you and I sure as heck don’t need you now. Get off my property.”
He held out his hands in a placating fashion. “Look. Kevyn, you’re upset. I get that. But couldn’t you at least hear me out?”
A short laugh burst from her. “You’re at least thirty years too late for that. Leave. Now. Before I arrest you for trespassing.”
She didn’t wait for a reply. Whirling, she stomped into the house and slammed the door behind her.
₪ ₪ ₪
His wallet. Where was his wallet?
Dak blew out a frustrated breath as he stood at the gas tank and felt his pockets. Not here.
And he knew he hadn’t set it inside his Jeep.
Still, he searched the interior for good measure.
Nope, not there. He must’ve left it at Kevyn’s.
Looked like he wouldn’t be fueling up right now. Or heading home like he’d hoped.
He’d be turning around and retracing his steps.
Better let Kevyn know he was coming.
Tapping out a quick text, he set his phone aside and pulled away from the pump.
A shiny red sportscar parked across the street from Kevyn’s house caught his attention. Looked like a Porsche. A fairly new one. He’d never seen it around before. Not that he was over here daily or anything, but a car like that attracted attention.
As he approached her house, he spotted a man standing on Kevyn’s porch.
His pulse spiked. Kevyn stood a few feet away from the man, her body rigid, her hand flung toward him with her finger pointing.
Unless he missed his guess, she was ordering the man away.
He pulled into her driveway in time to see her go inside her house and slam the door.
The man didn’t move, but continued staring at the door.
Resting his hand on his Glock, Dak stepped from the vehicle. If Kevyn had told the man to leave, the man would leave. Dak would see to it personally, if needed.
He didn’t know who the man was or why he was here, but no one harassed his agents.
The man glanced up.
He was older than Dak expected. Probably sixties. Not exactly who he expected to be hanging around outside one of his agents’ houses.
An envelope hung from his fingers.
The man descended the steps, pausing briefly beside Dak. Lines creased his forehead and his bloodshot eyes looked sad. “When she cools down, she’ll want to see this.”
Dak glanced down at the proffered envelope for a moment before taking it.
Without another word, the man walked away, crossing the street to the shiny Porsche.
He looked down at the envelope.
Nothing was written on the outside.
Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the envelope. Clearly Kevyn hadn’t wanted it. Who was he to suggest she take it?
Well, it was too late now.
He climbed the stairs and rang her doorbell.
No sound came from inside.
After several seconds passed, he rang again.
Still no sound.
Maybe she thought it was that guy. “Kev? It’s Dak.”
A few seconds later, the door swung open. Kevyn barely glanced at him before scanning the area behind him. “He’s gone, right?”
Dak nodded. “Yep. Got into that fancy Porsche and drove away.”
She jerked. “A Porsche?”
“Relatively new, too.” He followed her into the house and pushed the door closed behind him. Everything in him was dying to ask who the man was, but it wasn’t really any of his business.
However the tension rolling off her, the agitation tightening her steps, was very much his concern. “You all right?”
She whipped around to face him. “He thought he could walk right in like nothing had happened! What a jerk!”
Man. He’d never seen her this worked up. “Who was that guy?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at the door as if it were somehow to blame. “My father. Or he could have been, if he hadn’t walked out on us before I turned one.”
Whoa, what? He hadn’t seen that one coming. He’d have to tread carefully here. This was some shaky ground.
The envelope in his hand suddenly felt heavy. “Do you know what he wanted?”
She blinked. The question seemed to distract her from her anger. “I… He did
n’t say.” She slowly shook her head. “Or, rather, I didn’t let him say.”
Dak held up the envelope. “Well, he said you’d want to look at this. Maybe it will shed some light.”
She made no move to take the envelope.
What must it be like to have your father show up suddenly, after so many years of zero contact? He couldn’t imagine.
A second ticked by before she slowly took the envelope.
“I really want to rip it up and throw it away.” She laughed at her own confession, but the laugh had a brittle edge.
“You could do that.” Although he suspected her curiosity would get the better of her.
Silence descended.
Maybe he should retrieve his wallet and leave her to deal with this in private. But would that be abandoning her when she needed support?
Lord?
He sensed he should stay.
“You okay?” He’d asked her that before and she hadn’t answered. Maybe she wouldn’t this time either.
She hesitated. “I’m confused. And mad as…” She bit her lip and turned her head, but not before he saw a tear slip down her cheek.
Yeah, probably lots of conflicting emotions flowing right now.
She cleared her throat. “So, uh, maybe we should see what’s inside this.”
“You want me to clear out?” He inclined his head toward his wallet, resting on the floor beside the sofa. “I wasn’t trying to butt in, but I need my wallet.”
“You’re welcome to hang out for a bit, if you’d like.”
Unless he missed his guess, she wasn’t ready to face the contents of the envelope alone. “Sure. Gas stations are open twenty-four hours.”
“Thanks.” She led the way into the kitchen, where she ripped open the envelope.
A newspaper article fell out.
Mayor’s son missing! Below the bold headline was a picture of Jason Boggess, his smile charming the camera and likely half the female population in Seattle.
Handwritten in red across the article, obscuring the text he’d already skimmed, were four simple words: I know what happened.
Also Available by Candle Sutton
The Deadly Alliances Series
For US Marshal Milana Tanner, secrecy is a way of life. Her job demands it. Because her secrets keep people alive.
Book 1: Deadly Alliances
Book 2: Deadly Devotion
Book 3: Deadly Redemption
Book 4: Deadly Deliverance
The Fallen Series
The grave silences all who enter, but the dead still have stories to tell. Homicide detective Zander Salinas is determined to make their voices heard… even if that means listening to three very mysterious people who claim to hear God.
Book 1: Silent is the Grave
Book 2: Broken is the Grave
Book 3: Empty is the Grave
Shadow of the Storm
“Call me Stormy. For today anyway. Because tomorrow I might be someone else.”
Sinister Secrets Series
Mind reader of the FBI. It’s a moniker Special Agent Kevyn Taylor has earned through hard work and an innate ability to read people.
Book 1: Nameless
Book 2: Faceless (available spring 2021)
Book 3: Relentless (available winter 2021)
Nameless (Sinister Secrets Book 1) Page 30
