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One of three I’d taken of him.

A glorious photograph I’d captured when he hadn’t been paying any attention.

If I knew the larger-than-life man, he was furious with me. To hell with him. I’d meant what I said.

He not only needed to get his head out of the sand, he also deserved a life.

I leaned forward, tracing the lines of the man’s face on the screen, shifting the tip of my finger to his strong jaw. A ragged sigh was my only sound. He was way too handsome. And way too complicated.

Finally, I clicked the x in the corner, eliminating the photo from the screen. One day, when all this insanity was over, I’d post his picture on Instagram. I had every right to do so. He couldn’t tell me how to run my life.

The last photo left on the laptop screen was one I barely remembered taking. I’d taken a photo of an incredible and very sleek sports car during a trip I could barely remember. In doing so, I’d managed to capture my father talking with another man that I couldn’t remember seeing him with. I clicked on zoom, increasing the size. Wait a minute. What were they doing? Arguing? Maybe.

My father’s face was pinched, his hand gestures more animated than I was used to. While the other man’s face was partially obscured from wind whipping his longer hair in his face, it was obvious by his cold expression he was no happier than my father.

Was my father handing him an envelope or the other way around? I couldn’t tell. What I did realize was that the unknown man was the one following me.

I looked up to find Tank staring at me. What in the hell was going on? What was my father into? As I sat back, I thought about the various strange conversations on his phone I’doverheard over the years. When I’d still lived at home, every so often there were guests that I had never been introduced to and they’d never stayed long.

The single time I’d asked my father who they were, he’d politely but firmly told me that when he conducted business at home, he wasn’t to be disturbed and that I didn’t need to understand the details of his work. When I’d refused to listen, he’d been extremely condescending that his work was far too technical for me to understand.

That’s why I’d been surprised when he’d asked me to consider joining his corporation.

Had he done so with an ulterior motive in mind?

Groaning, I dropped my head into my hands, hating the thoughts lingering in my mind. I’d told my father that I had no interest in working with him because I simply wanted to pursue my interest in photography. That had been the truth, but there’d also been an underlying factor.

I’d suspected even as a teenager he’d been involved in illegal activities. There’d been nothing glaring at first, other than the odd conversations and people coming and going even after business hours. Then my father’s mood swings. They’d worsened as the months passed and while some of his lethargic sullenness I’d attributed to my mother’s death, now I wondered if whatever crimes he’d committed had been the real reason.

How terrible of a daughter to think that way of her father.

It was another reason I’d left home and had all but shut the door on his offers and continued intention of keeping track of me.

He’d had me followed. There was no doubt in my mind. The man in the photograph with my father was the same one depicted in the recent photo as well as during the trip to California years before.

My thoughts drifted to the first kidnapping attempt. Were they connected?

A cold shiver created prickles all the way down my arms. Tank cocked his head, his big brown eyes staring at me. As he padded closer, I was even more grateful I had a furry friend to keep me company. While enjoying the feel of his soft fur between my fingers, I chastised myself for not trusting Kage enough to share my thoughts on my dad. Denial didn’t seem appropriate. Yes, a daughter was supposed to protect her father, but what about the other way around?

Being in a constant state of denial had only proven to create and keep a rift with my father while allowing our relationship to remain on the surface. When was the last time I’d had a real conversation with the man? I couldn’t remember. Years.

Yet he’d kept track of everything I did, namely because of social media. If only I could just disappear and start over.

Tank’s sudden growl startled me. I’d been around him long enough to know the playful sounds from those dipped in concern.

The pup’s hackles were raised and so were mine.

“What do you sense, buddy?” I lifted my gaze toward the door, swallowing a lump in my throat.

Tank growled again, moving toward the doorway then stopping.

My nerves were instantly on edge. I glanced down at the desk, remembering what Kage had said about the weapon. Strangely enough, I’d felt more secure with the gun in my hands. And he’d been patient in the brief lesson.

My hand shaking, I opened the drawer. Just reaching inside and touching it brought a wave of fear. Tank’s growls continued and I wrapped my fingers around the handle, pulling the weapon free. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

Cautiously, I moved around the desk, heading toward the hallway. The silence in the house was no longer comforting. Every part of me was shaking, but I took determined steps into the living room. Nothing seemed amiss, but my senses were on overload. Tank’s low growl continued and suddenly, he bolted toward the door.

“Shush.” I was hoping to keep him from barking. “Quiet, baby boy. Let me take a look.” The blinds on the front window were partially closed, mostly to keep the bright sun from blinding anyone walking into the room. I keep a distance while moving to the side, taking several deep breaths before feeling confident enough to dart my head so I could see outside. While the window was large enough I could normally see most of the front and part of the driveway, the blinds blocked the perimeter.