5
Wylder
I didn’t even geta chance to eat breakfast before Axel waylaid me in the hall. He stopped in front of me with a cigarette butt hanging from the corner of his mouth, but since it wasn’t lit, I didn’t have any grounds to get on his case about it. Which he knew. The bastard looked smug as ever.
“What?” I demanded, eyeing the other man. He was nearly half a foot shorter than me, but he’d never let that faze him. My father didn’t put his trust in weaklings.
“Boss wants to see you,” he said. “Right now.”
Of course he did. After we’d gotten back from retrieving Mercy yesterday afternoon, I’d indicated to Dad that I had some things to discuss with him, but he’d only given me a chance to briefly cover the discovery of Titus’s murderer before he’d put me off to handle other business.
Naturally, he’d call me in on his own schedule without any concern for how I might be occupying myself. I was lucky I’d been up, or Axel probably would have enjoyed dragging me out of bed.
Oh, well. I’d been mentally preparing for this meeting since yesterday. Might as well get it over with already, even if I’d rather have tackled it without the pang of hunger in my stomach.
Even if there was an insistent tug in my gut trying to convince me that I needed to see Mercy, to confirm with my own eyes that she was still here, before I did a single other thing.
I squashed down that urge with significant effort. “Is he in his office?” I asked.
Axel nodded, the glee visible on his face. He was enjoying this. “Yeah. Come on, I’ll go with you.”
“There’s no need for that.”
“I insist,” Axel said with a snide smile. “I have some work to go over with him anyway.”
He was probably only tagging along so that he could overhear the uncomfortable conversation Dad and I were going to have. But there was no stopping him. As Dad’s right-hand man, sometimes he took undue advantage of his position, which also included getting on my nerves free of charge.
Walking through the halls to Dad’s study, I mostly ignored the guy, but it occurred to me I’d better ask: “What have you told him about Mercy?”
He shrugged. “Not much. I figured that was a conversation you were better off handling.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful that I was getting to set the tone or annoyed that Axel was obviously anticipating the discussion going badly. I settled for both.
The door at the far end of the second-floor hall was closed. I knocked, steady and firm, the way Dad would see as a show of confidence.
“Come in,” he called out from inside.
I walked straight in and came to a stop in front of his large oak desk. “I’m glad you have time to talk now, Dad.”
My father looked up from the papers he was studying in the imposing leather chair behind his desk. Ezra Noble didn’t believe in technology crowding his space. If you wanted to show him records of anything in here, you’d better have them printed out.
Other than the desk, the only furniture was a liquor cabinet stocked with vintages that plenty of people would drool over and a broad built-in book shelf. An oil-painted family portrait hung opposite the desk, showing my grandparents and Dad when he’d been a little younger than me.
We could have passed for twins if I’d traveled back in time to that moment. Now, a few streaks of silver had sprung up through his shock of auburn hair and faint lines of age marked the corners of his eyes and mouth. But none of that diminished the aura of authority that radiated off him.
“Wylder,” he said softly. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Dad never raised his voice, never showed any emotion on his blank face. You could never be prepared for what you’d get from him.
He had a way of speaking that was almost hypnotic, as if he could charm anyone he was talking to like a snake. His emerald-green eyes had a similar effect. I’d watched grown men reduced to stammers and quaking under the weight of his pointed stare. It could still send a shiver down my spine, though I was careful not to let that show.
“I came as soon as Axel told me you were ready to see me,” I said, not bothering to mention that I’d been waiting for him since yesterday, and then added for politeness’s sake, “Did you get the out-of-town business sorted out to your satisfaction?”
“It appears so, although a few of the minor pieces are still up in the air.” He set the papers down on the corner of his desk and sat up straight, leaning his elbows on the desktop. “What is it you were in a hurry to report to me? Is there more going on beyond all this commotion with the groupies?”
How much had his men or Anthea filled him in on the details there? My aunt had promised she’d confirm my story, since she was the one he’d called in to investigate the murder, after all. He hadn’t shown any surprise when I’d explained about Gia, even though the rest of us had found it hard to believe she’d been the culprit.
But then, maybe it didn’t matter to him how far-fetched the scenario sounded as long as we were sure the matter was dealt with now. Gia definitely wasn’t going to cause any more trouble.
“There is,” I said, willing down my rising trepidation at this subject. “It’s about Mercy Katz. She—”