Or would he? What if he got scared because my father was dying and decided he’d have to protect himself, make some deal with the FBI or the district attorney? What if my father found out? He’d have no choice but to silence Bart, maybe ask Andrea or Cain to do it. Tampering with a car isn’t their style, but they could easily have done it.
What if Jodie’s right? What if my father did kill hers?
I shake my head. Bart would never make such a stupid, selfish move. He was neither of those things. And he cared about my father like a brother. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. He wouldn’t try to destroy him, especially when he was helpless and dying.
Unless he was trying to protect someone he cared about even more.
Like his daughter. He would do anything for Jodie, just as my father would do anything for his family. And if that’s what happened, then maybe my father is trying to keep Jodie from knowing so that he won’t have to kill her, too, so that her father’s sacrifice won’t be in vain, which means he isn’t lying when he says it’s for Jodie’s own safety. It also means Jodie is in danger now that she has started investigating.
What if my father tells me he’s going to kill her? Or what if he orders me to kill her as some kind of test?
The questions make me uneasy as I pull into the driveway of the mansion. I start to feel even more nervous once I’m inside the mansion, which is why I stop by a bathroom first to wash my face. I take a deep breath as I gaze at my reflection in the mirror.
Calm down, Leo. Stop jumping to the worst conclusions and acting like an idiot. Everything’s fine.
My composure regained, I proceed to my father’s room. Just as I’m about to enter, I’m informed he’s in the library.
I make my way there. Upon opening the door, I see my father in his old chair and no one else in sight, not even Andrea. A lump forms in my throat.
This is serious.
“Leo.” My father puts the book he’s reading on his lap and greets me with a smile. “You’re here sooner than I expected.”
Is he saying I’m too eager to know what’s going on? That I’m not acting like I usually do?
I silence my thoughts. There’s no way I can stand up to my father if I keep scaring myself. I have to think clearly and remain composed if I want to protect Jodie.
I swallow and shrug. “It’s not like I’m busy. I’m just babysitting Jodie like you told me to.”
“You asked for it,” he says with a frown.
He’s still not mad at me for spilling the beans, is he?
I tuck my hands into my pockets as I approach him slowly. “I wouldn’t have told her if the house hadn’t burned down. You should have seen her face then. She had given up. She needed a reason to keep living. You want her alive, don’t you?”
The question sounds more like a challenge than I intended, and I immediately regret being so bold. Wasn’t I going to be careful? I’m supposed to protect Jodie, and I can’t do that if I’m going to pick a fight I can’t win.
My father doesn’t take the provocation. He touches his chin and nods.
“You’re right. You did the right thing.”
He’s not mad at all?
“But now it’s up to you to keep her alive, which she won’t be if she tries to go after a killer. Only a killer can go after another killer. Surely Andrea told you that.”
I want to tell him that Jodie won’t be going after the killer alone but don’t. If my father has something to do with Bart’s murder and still doesn’t know that Jodie and I have already started investigating, it’s best he doesn’t see us coming.
“Like I said, I’m babysitting,” I tell him. “Jodie’s safe.”
“But that’s not all you’ve been doing, is it?”
My eyebrows go up. He knows? Is he going to punish me now?
I swallow the fresh lump in my throat. “I…”
“I heard about the business arrangement you entered into with Ken Yuzuriha,” my father says.
My eyes narrow. Oh, that?
“He seems impressed with you, and Vito says that the deal will do our company a lot of good, so I wanted to commend you in person.”
His lips curve into a smile as his eyes brim with pride. I scratch the back of my head and give him a sheepish grin.
It’s strange. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I should feel happier, prouder, and yet the smile I have on feels fake. My chest still feels a bit hollow. Is it because I still think my father could have killed Bart?
“Thank you,” I tell him.