Page 40 of Lethal Game

She let out a sigh. "Yes. He sent me a text right before you picked me up tonight."

His pulse leapt. "What did it say?"

"I could show you his exact words, but I'd have to turn on my phone."

"Why don't you tell me what he said, and I'll decide if I need to read it for myself?"

"He said he was sorry for not being with us, that he was trying to keep us safe. That he would explain at some point what was happening. He did mention that he thought my mother was being poisoned, and I should tell the doctors to test her blood."

"He thinks his wife is being poisoned, but he doesn't come running to her side?"

"I don't understand it, either. But he asked me to trust him, to know that he loves me and my mother. He also told me not to tell anyone he'd been in touch, that I'd be risking all our lives if I did." She bit down on her lip. "I hope I didn't make the wrong choice by telling you now."

"You didn't." He met her gaze. "Did he say anything else?"

"He told me to get out of town, to stay away from my apartment, to get my mother security—but he didn't say where he was, what he was doing, or when I would see him again. He didn't say anything about a terrorist or his past. It was not a long text." She took a breath. "I know it looks bad. And as much as I love him, I am angry with him. I feel like he abandoned us. But it's also impossible to ignore the faith my mother has in him and her absolute certainty that he is doing what he needs to do."

As she rationalized her father's absence, he had to ask, "Areyou sure he didn't set up a meeting with you somewhere? Maybe tomorrow?"

"No. He didn't do that," she snapped, a bit of her rage toward her father turning toward him.

"I had to ask."

"You didn't have to ask." Her brown eyes flashed with fire. "You want me to trust you, then you have to trust me."

"You held on to the information about that text for a while, and I'm not sure you would have told me if I hadn't pressed you. I want to trust you, Alisa, but I can see how conflicted you are."

"I love my parents."

"I understand that, but this isn't just about your family. Thousands of people could lose their lives or could be injured for life. I'm trying to stop a catastrophically bad event, and I don't want to scare you, but you cannot bury your head in the sand."

"I'm not doing that."

"I hope not, because this isn't over. You and your mother are still in danger because of something your father did. We can sort all that out later, but we have to focus on what is going on now and getting your dad to talk to me is the best possible scenario."

"I understand. If he contacts me again, you'll be the first to know," she said with a heavy sigh.

"Maybe you should try to get some rest. You must be exhausted."

"After that lovely bedtime story you just told me about the end of the world coming?" she asked dryly. "I think we need to talk about something else for a few minutes. Otherwise, I don't think I'm going to sleep at all."

"How about some more wine?" he said with a smile "Would that help?"

"It couldn't hurt."

He got up from the couch and brought the wine bottle back to the table. He poured them both half a glass and sat back down. "How are you feeling physically?"

"Battered and bruised," she said. "What about you?"

"Same."

"We've talked enough about my family. Tell me about yours, Jason. You said your father was an FBI agent, so you followed in his footsteps?"

"Yes. I went into the family business," he said as he drank his wine. " My grandparents were both FBI agents—my grandfather even made deputy director before he retired."

"That's impressive. You're like FBI royalty."

He gave her a dry smile. "I have had big shoes to fill. My father was also quite the hero in his day. He had some big wins."