Page 71 of Sighs By the Sea
Tilly glances at me, her face unreadable except for the stress etched in every line. I see it, even if Antonio doesn’t. She’s struggling, more than she wants to admit. I decide to take over.
“Mr. Cardenas,” I begin, keeping my tone professional, “we’ve found evidence of some disturbing things. Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Grayson?”
“Dozens of people,” he replies, a dismissive wave of his hand. “But if you’re asking if the cartel knows about his… deal, they do not. I made certain of that.” He taps his finger on the table, his lips pursing together. I would wager that if Antonio could change that, he would. There’s no love lost between Grayson and him—that much is clear.
“Can you write a list of people who are upset?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation moving, though I already know what his answer will be.
He leans back, crossing his arms. The chair creaks under his weight. “Possibly.”
Crap. I fucking knew that’s how he would play this.
“Just tell us, Papa,” Tilly says, her voice harder now. She rubs her forehead as if trying to ease a building headache. “I don’t have the time or energy for games. We both know you’re safer in here than out there. You’d probably have twice the price on your head that Gray does.”
His eyes widen, his jaw ticking. If he’s ever been spoken to like that before, it doesn’t show. Through gritted teeth, he says, “Keaton for one. Don, Suzannah, Aunt Jennifer—I mean, the list goes on. Should I continue?”
My heart skips a beat at the name in the middle of his list. “You know about Suzannah?” I ask, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
“Ah, you caught that. Interesting,” he says, his smile widening. There’s something sickeningly gleeful about the way he’s watching me, like a cat playing with a cornered mouse. Beside me, Tilly’s hands shake slightly as she crosses her arms, her nails digging into her skin. I can see the storm brewing behind her eyes, and I know it’s only a matter of seconds before it breaks
“What do you know about Suzannah?” I ask, leaning forward, my hands clenching under the table.
“I didn’t have her killed,” he says, his expression serious, but there’s no remorse in his eyes. He didn’t order it, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want it.
“But you knew that she’s involved with the gangs?” I leave the sentence hanging, hoping he’ll fill in the gaps. There’s no telling how much Tilly really knows.
Antonio touches his nose but remains silent.
Tilly suddenly jumps up from the table, and storms to the door. She bangs on it and steps outside without a single other word. Antonio doesn’t seem surprised. “She’s too soft for the family business. Always has been,” he mutters.
“Did the gangs order the hit? Does Grayson owe them money or something?” I ask, trying to pull the conversation back to the present.
“I doubt it. Grayson wouldn’t have taken money he couldn’t pay back, and never from anyone untoward,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. Then his grin returns, sharper, more dangerous. “But I think… she and Gray’s brother had a thing before she left. I always wondered if the boy was actually Gray’s.”
Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that. “Don?” I stammer, my mind racing. “Wh-when? How?” I hate that my voice is unsure. In my mind, there is no doubt that George is Grayson's son. They're too similar in their expressions, and their looks. Antonio is trying to get a rise out of me. Stupidly, it's working.
“You’re quite interested in this case, Miss Parker,” he says, leaning forward, clearly enjoying my shock.
I ignore his taunt and scoot my chair closer, the metal legs screeching against the floor. “Would Don have ordered the hit? Yes or no?”
He leans back, folding his hands together, that smug expression making me wish I had a phone book to hurl at his head. “I knew for years about Suzannah, even tried to get her home a few times. I paid for rehab three times, Miss Parker. And for what? To be accused of the worst?”
“You were going to kill Tommy two years ago,” I say, my voice cold.
“Was I? Or was I taking him out to scare him? This is a dangerous business, but I’m no murderer. Believe it or not, my family means the world to me. Especially Matilda. I let the Chernobog kill my own daughter over her. I blamed everything on Tia to keep everyone else safe. And people are still accusing me of being some sort of tyrant.”
I stand up abruptly, not willing to sit and listen to him spin his twisted version of reality any longer. But as I'm knocking on the door to be let out, Antonio chuckles behind me. "Be careful whom you trust, Miss Parker. Loyalty is a fickle thing in this family. Everyone has their own agendas."
I pay not attention to his words or the creepy feeling that's slithering up my spine. He wants it there. I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing he was successful.
The prison doors clang shut behind me, but the weight of what Antonio revealed stays with me, pressing down on my chest like a stone. I need to talk to Don and fast. I storm out, making quick work of shooting Harry a text. Tracking down Grayson’s brother is now the top priority. He had an affair with Suze, and not a short one from the way Antonio painted it. The guard is ahead of me in the hall, silent, but casting glances over his shoulder as we walk. Like I would wonder off. I nearly roll my eyes. When he finally opens the door to the waiting room, Tilly is there, impatiently tapping her foot.
As soon as I'm within reach, she grabs my arm and drags me outside. After being in such a sterile environment, even the hot desert breeze on my face is a relief. But that feeling quickly leaves when she spins around. “You knew?! You knew his wife was alive and still did all this?” She waves a hand around her head. I don't think I've ever seen a person with such fury in their eyes. Protective doesn't begin to describe Tilly Jacobs.
But I’m seeing red too. Probably for the same reason. The entire day has been a nightmare, and it’s only getting worse. “I found out yesterday. How long have you known? You didn’t seem surprised.”
Tilly looks over her shoulder, her hair blowing into her face. “I’ve known a week. Greg has a PI that used to be an agent, and they stumbled on it.”
“Were you planning to tell him? Or just let me break his heart?”