When You Dare (17 page)

Dare slapped him on the shoulder. Once again he appreciated having Chris around. Too many times over the years, trusted friends had been few and far between. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Dare went to the dogs and told them both that he’d be back soon. They were smart, and they understood the difference between an extended trip that involved his duffel bag, and one that’d last only a few hours. They followed him to the door but showed no signs of anxiety.

“You girls keep Molly company, okay?” To Sargie he said, “And no shenanigans. I don’t want you to wear her out.” As Dare went out the door, he realized he was already missing her, and it pissed him off.

Hopefully, once he secured her safety, he could take her to his bed with no intention of sleeping. Once he had her, then he’d be able to get her out of his system. He’d have to.

There was no room for a romantic relationship in his line of work—and he was a long way from retiring.

CHAPTER NINE

D
ARE SAT IN HIS
SUV, waiting. Impatient, but unwavering. He’d done many stakeouts, but this one was different. This time he wasn’t watching for the victim or planning to trail a suspect. This time, he wanted information only.

And he’d get what he wanted. Already he’d discovered things, and he didn’t like any of it. Now he needed more. He needed a clearer picture of the circumstances.

Molly’s father could supply that.

Trace had been invaluable in doing a quick rundown on Bishop Alexander. A more thorough analysis would follow; in fact, Trace was working on that right now. He would scour Bishop’s past, dig into his present and even take apart future plans to get as much intelligence as possible. Very shortly, Dare would know more about Bishop Alexander than he knew of himself.

Dare grinned, glad that he’d have an opportunity to return Trace’s money to him. Accepting financial compensation from his friend hadn’t felt right, especially when the job involved Alani. Years of hard work, wise investments and good sense had already amassed him a small fortune. He didn’t need Trace’s money. He didn’t really need anyone’s money. More often than not, he continued to accept assignments to keep his edge and to feed his need for excitement.

Money had little to do with it these days. Thanks to Trace’s incomparable investigative skills, Dare now had the excuse to pay him back in full.

Dare considered the information Trace had already supplied. By all accounts, Molly’s father felt omnipotent to all the “lesser” people around him, including his daughters and his wife. Other than some shady business dealings, he didn’t even try to conceal his transgressions. Because he hadn’t done a very good job of building a bond with a longstanding assistant, it had been easy to glean info.

Some people had no idea how to cover their tracks.

One kernel of data led to another, public records gave clues to private information—and now Dare had enough to accomplish his task today.

Beneath the shade of an ornamental tree that blocked some of the bright sunshine, Dare had watched Bishop drive up in a shiny black Mercedes. The older man had emerged in
GQ
golf duds, a cell phone to his ear and a shiny platinum ring glinting on his finger.

Bishop had paid little enough attention to the valet as the young man took his keys to park the car. Dare heard him laugh, saw him lift a hand to hail other men and then join a small group of distinguished-looking friends or colleagues.

Bishop Alexander did not act like a man with a missing daughter.

That had been hours ago. Sooner or later, he had to come back out. Dare checked his watch and considered what his next move would be. Should he confront Bishop here, in front of the others?

How dare the man play golf anyway? Wasn’t he worried about Molly? Or was it just that he had business responsibilities? Dare well knew the value of cultivating connections; could this be Bishop’s purpose today? Maybe he was putting on a good front to hide the personal troubles in his own family.

The emotional involvement of this assignment was different for Dare. Usually he hunted for the truth with detached resolve. He did a good job because that’s what he was paid to do.

Now, for Molly, he wanted to ferret out the truth because keeping her safe mattered to him personally.

Last night… God almighty, he’d wanted her. He still wanted her. Being away from her hadn’t changed that.

But last night she’d needed something altogether different from him. She hadn’t even noticed his boner, or the heat pouring off him. She’d held on to him like a lifeline, and…he’d liked it. He liked her.

It didn’t matter how hard the circumstances might be on him; until Molly got through this, until she regained some control over her life, he would continue to do what he could for her. If that meant holding her every damn night, then so be it.

He would damn well keep his hands to himself.

Until she was ready.

Dare was thinking of her eventual readiness when Bishop finally emerged from the club. Though he’d been out in the sun for hours, his well-groomed, silver-tipped hair looked like it had just been styled. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but not his smile as he chatted up another, taller man. They laughed together, and Bishop clapped the other fellow on the shoulder as a farewell. The friend veered off in a different direction, leaving Bishop alone, waiting on the valet.

Fuck it.

Before the valet noticed him, Dare got out of his car and looked over the roof. “Bishop Alexander?”

Molly’s father looked up.

Predatory anticipation filled Dare. “Got a minute?”

Taking off his glasses, Bishop stared toward Dare. “Do I know you?”

Dare didn’t move from his relaxed position outside the driver’s side of his SUV. “We haven’t formally met, but your daughter has told me about you.”

Bishop went still, but only for a second. A calculated expression reshaped his features, and he slunk closer with caution. “Which daughter would that be?”

Of course the bastard felt safe. They were in front of an exclusive club where only members were allowed. Bishop wouldn’t realize that Dare went where he wanted, when he wanted. Getting past the gate had been child’s play for a man of his means.

For Bishop, his money and social influence were his strength. But Dare didn’t give a shit about any of that.

“The daughter who’s been missing.”

In an instant, Bishop’s jaw firmed, and he surged forward with the confidence of a man used to power and prestige. “What do you know of that?”

So he realized Molly had been missing. Interesting. “I found Molly, and I thought you might be interested in the…details.”

That did it. After waving off the approaching valet, Bishop moved to confront Dare. Voice lowered and infused with suspicion, he said, “I don’t know what this is about, but if you think to blackmail me, I can tell you that it won’t work. You won’t get a single cent from me.”

It took all of Dare’s resolve not to plant his fist in Bishop’s face. Feigning a boredom he didn’t feel, Dare said, “Does that mean you’re not curious about where she was, or how she got there?”

On uncertain ground, Bishop flexed his fingers while trying to gauge his opponent. Finally, after smoothing his already smooth hair, he tweaked the collar of his golf shirt and played blasé. “I assumed she was off on another research trip.”

“Yeah?” Arms relaxed, stance negligent, Dare smiled. “And you thought I’d blackmail you over that?”

“What else?” All decorum fled as he said, “Thanks to her absurd vocation, Molly gets herself into preposterous situations.”

“Like what? Being kidnapped?”

“Kidnapped?”
For only a moment, Bishop rocked back in shock before realizing how loudly he’d spoken. Appalled at himself, he again looked around to ensure no one had overheard him.

“That’s right. Taken against her will.” Enunciating slowly, Dare said, “Abducted.”

“But…” He blustered in disbelief. “That’s absurd.”

Dare shook his head. “It’s a fact.”

Not missing a beat, Bishop asked, “But she’s safe now?”

Did the man care? Or was he pondering his own position in things? “She’s safe.”

After letting out a breath, trying to shush Dare with his own example, Bishop said, “Look, this has nothing to do with me.”

“You’re her father.”

“An irrefutable fact.” Bishop sounded pained by the relationship. “But you’d have to understand my daughter. She is not conventional. She is not circumspect. It’s a fault I have lamented for years.”

Dare said nothing—which prompted Bishop to say a lot.

“Just what the hell do you want from me? You certainly can’t expect me to take charge of Molly’s every misfortune.”

Being kidnapped was a misfortune? “You’re a real asshole, aren’t you, Bishop?” Dare didn’t bother being circumspect, which prompted Bishop to another quick survey of their surroundings. “Do you have any idea where your daughter was?”

“Since I didn’t know of any of this, how could I?”

“Do you even care?”

Bishop flattened his mouth—and refused to reply.

Deep down, rage simmered in Dare, but he didn’t show it. “You know, I have to ask myself—why would a father be so indifferent to his daughter’s well-being—unless he was the one who had arranged her
misfortune.
”

Jaw going slack and face coloring, Bishop blinked in an effort to reconcile himself with the accusation. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” And then with new heat: “What the hell are you talking about? Do you know who I am? Do you know my standing in society?”

Hmm. He
had
looked genuinely surprised by it all.

Dare decided to press him. Coming out from around the SUV door, he closed the distance to Molly’s father. At around five feet, nine inches, Bishop stood damn near a half foot shorter than Dare. He was lean, toned, but he lacked any real strength.

Physically, he was half the man Dare was. In character, he was a worm.

“So, Bishop,” Dare said, “it would surprise you to learn that your daughter was snatched out front of her apartment building?”

“That’s ridiculous. Who would want Molly?”

God almighty, Dare wanted to hit him. One good pop to the nose, that’s all. Bishop wouldn’t be so smug or condescending with his own blood splattered over his face. “And I guess you didn’t know that she was taken to Tijuana, held captive, starved, tormented and threatened?”

“I don’t believe you,” Bishop blustered. The earlier hot color leached from his face. He said again, “I don’t believe you.”

“She was taken, all right.”

Even while shaking his head in denial, Bishop muttered, “But…
why?
”

“That’s what I want to know.”

Perplexed, Bishop looked down in thought, then glared at Dare. “This is hard to accept. And what do you have to do with it, anyway?”

“Not a damn thing, except that I’m the one who found her.”

With even more suspicion, Bishop asked, “In Tijuana?”

“Yes.” Keeping it vague, Dare gave a bare-bones assessment. “I was there for unrelated reasons, and I saw her. Her condition was not good.”

“What do you mean?” And in accusation: “You said she was okay.”

“She’s alive, and she’s healing.” Physically. Emotionally… Dare just didn’t know. “But she was poorly treated.”

The seconds ticked by; Bishop swallowed. “Raped?”

“She says not.” The rapid-fire questions felt more devious than frantic.

“Who had her?”

“People who deal in white slavery.”

Bishop blanched in horror. “Dear God. White slavery? But surely… Where is she now?” He looked around aghast as if expecting her to suddenly appear. “She’s not with you, is she?”

“I told you, she’s safe. I have her well away from here.”
Away from you.

“I see.” Though he tried to hide it, Bishop’s evident relief couldn’t be missed.

It wasn’t relief for his daughter’s safety—the bastard.

“Well.” Bishop tugged at his tailored shirt. “I’m pleased to hear that she’s all right.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Disregarding Dare’s statement, Bishop forged on. “She obviously can’t come back home.”

“Home?” Dare inquired.

“To Ohio.”

His eyes narrowed. “To where you live, you mean?”

As if justified, Bishop said, “There would be a ghastly scandal. The media would have a field day if they got wind of this, and knowing Molly, she won’t even attempt to keep it quiet.”

“You would expect her to?”

His chin shot up. “For the sake of her family, and to protect our good name, of course that’s what I expect.”

“She didn’t ask to be taken, you know.”

“Maybe not in so many words.” Bishop curled his lip in disdain and distaste. “But still…”

Wishing he could demolish the smaller man, Dare asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“She’s my daughter. Of course I care about her well-being. But odds are she brought this on herself.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dare had seen some hideous people in his time, but Molly’s father beat them all.

“With that filth she writes and the way she—”

As Dare stiffened in fury, Bishop trailed off.

Through his teeth, Dare gritted out, “It is not her fault.”

“This is absurd.” Bishop dismissed the topic with a shake of his head. “I’m not going to continue this conversation with you. I don’t even know your name.”

Straightening to his full height, Dare glared down at him. “But I know yours, Bishop. And if I find out you had anything to do with Molly’s abduction, I’ll damn well take you apart, piece by piece.”

His mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re
threatening
me?”

Bishop obviously couldn’t believe such a notion.

“I’m explaining the facts to you.”

Umbrage stiffened the older man’s spine. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

As he turned away, Dare said, “Fact number one is that Molly
is
coming home.”

That stalled Bishop in his tracks.

“She needs to know who did this to her. And so do I. The best way to find that out is to confront people.”

“That’s outrageous! Good God, man, you don’t
brag
about it when you’ve been defiled. You show some common decency and you
cover it up.
”