Page 155 of Convict's Game

The medic recoiled and came to me.

More politely, I refused further treatment. “My head has cleared, thank you.”

Jacqueline appeared in the doorway to the building, her expression grim. “It looks like his accomplice picked the cuffs and they went out the window. Sorry, sir.”

My father’s cheeks reddened. “You let them go, you mean. Two men jump the wall and ran, and all you do is sit in your fucking car and watch them?”

“It happened so fast. I gave chase?—”

“While the rest of their gang gassed me. Didn’t see them either. Convenient.” Fury raged in his eyes.

Jacqueline darted her gaze at me.

I smoothed out a wrinkle in my skirt and set my tone to reasonable. “It’s hardly fair to expect her to both chase them andintercept the men who attacked us. She had no warning, and neither did we. If you can tell me who you had up there, I can help work out what happened.”

My father swore. “Police business.”

Yeah, right. Anything routine, I knew about. He only hid his under-the-table dealings.

But I knew. I was glad Convict had gotten away.

With a muttered apology, Jacqueline beat a hasty retreat.

“Can you tell me now she’s gone?” I asked.

His focus snapped to me. “No. It’s also convenient that you walk in and two minutes later I’m unconscious and my mark has gone.”

“What mark? You’re keeping me in the dark, and that’s hardly helpful.”

His eyes held mine, thoughts ticking away behind them.

I hated this. I took care not to lie directly as the nerves would consume me, so I placed my words carefully.

“I’m not in the habit of looking too closely at workmen, which you wouldn’t either if you were a woman. If I’m walking past a dust storm, I run. I had no idea it was a decoy. Then they gassed me, too. Or did you forget that?”

He didn’t acknowledge the explanation I’d already given once we’d woken from a heap in the hallway. “Why are you here, Lovelyn?”

“They’re raising theEdentoday. Wait, did I miss it? I need to go.”

Again, not a lie. I was highly curious over what they’d find once that ship was brought out of its watery grave.

There was a reason it had been sunk, and it couldn’t be good.

Finally, the weight lifted from Julian’s scrutiny, and he scrubbed his bloodshot eyes. “It’s already up, according to my messages. If you walk to the dock, you’ll see it.”

I leapt to my feet with a quick thanks, my head swimming with the after-effects of the gas.

He paused me. “Not so hasty. I had a piece of intel land on my desk a few days ago. A warning.”

My stomach tightened, and I spun back from the gate. “Oh? About what?”

“You. A threat. Maybe don’t go out at night for a while.”

“A threat to me? What did it say? How did it reach you?”

Without further answer, he strode back inside the building, leaving me to white-knuckle the gate handle. A direct threat to me was new. What was old was how my father gave the information like he didn’t care.

I’d find out through other channels, but it hurt how he’d known about this fordaysand said nothing. I pondered if I’d truly damaged a relationship that was important to me, but what had been my alternative? A small voice inside me whispered that if Arran had tried to use me as a hostage, my father wouldn’t have taken the bait.