When You Dare (41 page)

“Whoever took you must have had a reason.” Kathi moved to put a supporting hand on Bishop’s shoulder. “And now you want poor Bishop to bail you out of this predicament.”

“Ha!” Molly’s scorn cracked like a whip in the quiet library. “Fat chance, Kathi, because I would never take anything from him.”

Bishop held up a hand to quiet any rebuttal from Kathi. “Then what are you doing here?” He joined the women on their feet. “If he’s not after some sort of payoff, what do the two of you want?”

Dare looked from one person to the next, and he sighed. “So, we’re to do this standing, huh?” He shook his head and rose from the couch.

Withdrawing two photos, Dare went to the desk and laid them down, then slid them around for Bishop to see. “You’re friends with Ed Warwick and Mark Sagan.”

Confused, Bishop shook his head. “Friends? No. We’re associates. We’ve done business together on occasion. What of it? They’re reputable men.”

“Sagan is a white separatist.”

“Nonsense.” Genuinely perturbed, Bishop huffed—and stared at those photos. “You can’t prove that.”

“Wanna bet?” Dare pointed to the other photo. “Warwick was busted on sliding illegal immigrants through the system to get them ready to vote for a senator that
you
backed, likely in exchange for favors.”

Through his teeth, Bishop said, “Warwick was cleared of that.”

“Not even close. He was never prosecuted, no, but not because he was innocent. Your good buddy Sagan took care of the evidence. A dead body has a way of spooking anyone else who might want to testify against his client.”

“That man died in a hit-and-run!”

Ah, so Bishop knew of all that. Of course he did. Dare shook his head in loathing. “Sagan has plenty of muscle to go around. He staged that hit-and-run, and you know it.” Dare shoved the photos closer to Bishop. “The people hoping to emigrate here were cheated of a chance at a better life because of Warwick’s bullshit. They were all sent home with their papers revoked. Warwick and Sagan have hurt more people than you and I can count.”

Mulling that over, Bishop shook his head. “It’s not like that. They’ve shared inside tips on property. A restaurant, a hotel… That’s all.”

“Properties that you bought under market value?”

He shrugged. “They were good deals for me, and they’ve proven lucrative. I stay in touch with many different people for just such business advantages.” Sounding more subdued, he again insisted, “All of them are
only
associates.”

Dare wasn’t buying it, not for a second. “Lie to yourself if you want, but you can’t fob that story off on me.” He pointed a finger at the photos where Bishop and Kathi were socializing with the men, well outside of business. “A man who lies with dogs always ends up with fleas.”

Chin up, Bishop skewered Dare with a hate-filled look. “So I’m guilty by association?”

“Damn right. What’s really telling, though,” Dare continued, “is that your friendship with those fucks gives you opportunity.”

Appearing ill, Kathi sank back into her seat.

Showing uncharacteristic discomposure, Bishop demanded, “Opportunity for
what?
”

Dare drew Molly closer to him. “To have your daughter kidnapped and smuggled into Tijuana.”

With visible effort, Bishop drew himself together. “Why the hell would I want to do that? She’s my
daughter
.”

Face paling, Kathi looked between the two men. “It’s incomprehensible that Bishop would do such a thing.” She glared at Molly. “I can’t credit this. You little fool. You would dare to accuse your father?”

Dare said, “
I’m
accusing him.”

“Then you go too far.” Angry color tinged her cheeks and made her eyes glassy. “Bishop is a highly respected businessman, an icon in society! He is above reproach.”

“Yeah, right.” Dare didn’t bother hiding his contempt. “He’s a social climber who enjoys leisure time with the bottom-feeders as long as they have something of interest to give to him.”

Kathi stiffened. “You make him sound like a…an opportunist!”

“Dead-on.” And then, tiring of the game, Dare said, “Face up to the real life, will you? Your husband spends his time with a white separatist who sports a laundry list of criminal activity, not the least of which is murder. Sagan is the worst kind of phony. He’s festering on the inside, then acts like he can hide it beneath the suits and ties he always wears.”

No doubt hoping to disprove Dare’s claim, Kathi shook her head. “That’s not true. Mark doesn’t always wear a suit. Sometimes he plays tennis, and he swims—”

In wide-eyed incredulity, Bishop swung around to stare at Kathi. “Shut up.”

Breathing hard, Kathi frowned at him.

“I mean it.” He looked at her as if she had two heads, as if he’d never really seen her before. Finally he turned back to Dare. “Enough of this nonsense. I know nothing about what you’re saying. I wouldn’t even know how to get such a thing done.”

“Bullshit. With Sagan’s muscle and Warwick’s contacts in Mexico, you have everything you need.”

Bishop didn’t blink. “I would never risk the scandal of having my daughter kidnapped to some godforsaken place.”

“No.” Kathi put her hands on Bishop’s shoulders. “He wouldn’t. He doesn’t even approve of her writing.”

“I heard. And I figured that might be the motive.” Dare stared at Bishop. “With the movie deal in the works, her name is really going to be out there. Folks will be making the connection, and soon you’ll be known less for your own accomplishments and more as Molly Alexander’s father.”

Bishop narrowed his gaze on Molly. “It’s absurd, all of it. You, at least, have to realize that.”

Trembling, Kathi curled her lips in an unbecoming smile. “Speaking of your work, Molly, I presume you haven’t had much opportunity for writing lately, have you?”

Molly sent a tight smile right back at her. “Actually, I’ve written quite a bit. Dare has a computer that he lets me use. At present, I’m only a little behind schedule.”

Dumbfounded, Kathi lost her smile. “After your…ordeal, you still took time to write?”

Molly shrugged. “Writing has always been my entertainment, and my escape.” She gave her father a defiant look. “It’s always been my way of coping with the uglier things in life.”

With a critical sneer, Kathi looked her over. “Then you obviously weren’t hurt all that badly, were you?”

“Bad enough,” Molly told her, and she never faltered from holding Kathi’s gaze. “But I wasn’t about to let those creeps, or anyone else, ruin me.” She sniffed, and said as if it made perfect sense, “I do have a deadline, you know.”

Dare wanted to intercede, but it seemed important to let this little exchange play out, so he kept silent. He had a feeling that before now, Molly had never really told her father or stepmother how she felt about their mistreatment of her.

Fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater, Kathi asked, “What about your…controversy?”

“What controversy do you mean?”

Dare gave Molly points for pricking Kathi’s already crumbling façade. The older woman barely held herself together. She looked like she wanted to sob, or perhaps fly at Molly for bodily harm—all in defense of her asshole husband.

Interesting.

Dare stayed alert. The verbal abuse was difficult enough. No way in hell would he let either of these monsters lay a finger on Molly.

Before anything more could be said, Kathi noticed Bishop giving her the oddest look, and she drew in a long, deep breath. “Forgive me. Bishop prefers that I not speak of her books in his presence. In the middle of all the turmoil, I forgot myself.”

Bishop worked his jaw. “Exactly. This is hardly the time for chatting about her outrageous career choice.” In clear recrimination, he watched Kathi a moment longer before turning back to Dare. “I say again, I would never get involved in such a thing.”

“Stick with that story if you want. My goal now is to keep Molly and Natalie safe, whatever it takes.”

Kathi made a rude sound. “Why ever would Natalie be in any danger?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

Kathi waved a hand at Molly. “You said whoever took her wanted Molly.”

“No, I didn’t.” Softly, Dare told her, “We don’t yet know why she was taken. If it wasn’t Bishop, then the threat could be to any or all of you. But I promise I’m going to get to the bottom of it, no matter what it takes.”

“Fine.” She dismissed his warning as unimportant. “As long as you accept that Bishop wasn’t involved.”

She wanted verification that her husband was in the clear. She wouldn’t get it from Dare.

Molly stayed rigid beside him; for her sake, he needed to end this and soon. “I think my next course of action is to go to the law. This wasn’t done by one person. Whoever arranged it had help. Once the story breaks, someone will talk.” He leveled a look on Bishop. “Someone always does. And then we’ll know the truth.”

Putting his head in his hands, Bishop whispered, “I’ll be ridiculed, ruined…”

“A little useless gossip is all you care about, right?” Dare tugged Molly into his side. She was too silent, and it worried him. But when he looked at her, she appeared more thoughtful than hurt. “The fact that Molly was taken doesn’t even factor in?”

Sighing, Bishop lifted his head and looked up at his daughter. A flicker of genuine emotion showed. “I can still see the bruising,” he said quietly. And then, “You’ll be okay?”

“Yes.” Molly positioned her chin as she always did when on the defensive. “Thanks to Dare, I’m fine now.”

“She was damn near dead when I found her,” Dare said. “Drugged. Tortured. Dehydrated and starved.”

Molly gave him a sideways glance at how he played up her mistreatment. She
had
been tortured, but probably not in the way her father and Kathi now assumed.

“Molested?” Kathi asked.

Molly shook her head. “Don’t sound so broken up over it, Kathi. They spared me that humiliation.”

Her sarcasm was wasted. “Well, I would assume…that is, if you were truly treated so badly, why would they not have raped you?”

“Goddamn it, Kathi!
Shut up.
”

Startled by Bishop’s rebuke, she was quick to say, “I’m glad you weren’t subjected to that.”

Sitting back in his seat, Bishop ran both hands through his hair. He took a steadying breath, and locked gazes with Molly. “You might not believe me, but I’m truly sorry for what you’ve suffered, and you need to know that I had nothing to do with it.”

Molly said nothing.

“If you go public, no one will believe that you weren’t used sexually. You realize that, I’m sure.” Bishop shook his head. “Your life will be under a microscope, Molly. Not only will you damage me, but your sister’s livelihood as a teacher could be at stake, and you’ll ruin yourself, as well.”

“Natalie only wants what is best for me,” Molly told him.

Dare admired her aplomb under fire. “And, you know, I think it’d work as publicity for Molly’s novels.” No way in hell would Dare let that happen, but Bishop couldn’t know that. His opinion of Dare was not favorable.

And that suited Dare’s purpose just fine.

“Think about it,” Dare said. “Every newspaper and magazine out there will be talking about her and, by association, her books. Her sales are already through the roof with the movie deal, but this would bring a real focus to her and her work.”

Incredulity widened Kathi’s eyes. “Monster,” she whispered with venom. “You would destroy my husband and all he’s worked for to
promote
her?”

Dare lifted a shoulder in negligent disregard. Molly, God bless her, held her own council. “It’d be a by-product of finding the truth, but what the hell? All publicity is good publicity. Isn’t that what they say?”

“I can’t stop you,” Bishop announced, and when Kathi started to protest, he warned, “That’s enough from you.”

She subsided.

Coming around the desk to face Molly, Bishop studied her. “I’ve always credited you with being a smart girl.”

She gave him a
yeah, right
look.

“No, I don’t approve of what you write, but you’ve made it a profitable enterprise. You knew what you wanted, and you stuck to it, worked at it, and you’ve gained your own success. Unlike many young people—”

“Dad, I’m thirty years old. Not a child.”

His expression softened in sadness. “To someone pushing sixty, thirty is still young, believe me. My point is that you’ve avoided the pitfalls of drugs, alcohol or lack of initiative. I think you could have done more, something truly worthwhile with your talent—”

“Entertaining others is worthwhile,” she insisted. “Not everything in life has to be a lesson.”

Bishop let out a long-suffering sigh. “Debating it now is futile. What I’m attempting to say is that I want you to think long and hard about this. Don’t make yourself a matter of public gossip just to hurt me.”

Indulgent, more understanding than Dare could believe, Molly huffed a small breath. “Oh, Dad, don’t you see? Not everything is about you. This happened to me, and I need to know who wanted me hurt, and why.”

Bishop didn’t touch her, not to embrace her in comfort, not to exert his paternal will and not to vent his anger. To Dare, the two feet between them felt like miles.

He was willing to bet it felt even wider to Molly, a chasm that would never be bridged. Even as a child, she’d learned to live with that emotional distance.

Bishop nodded his acceptance of her decision and looked at Dare. “When do you plan to go public?”

“Soon.” Remaining noncommittal, Dare scooped up the photos of Mark Sagan and Ed Warwick and tapped them against his thigh. “First I think I’ll get in touch with your buddies, maybe squeeze them a little.”

“Your many connections, I suppose?”

“I have ways of getting to the truth, yes. Both men have a jaded history that they’ll want to protect. If you’re a party to this, they’ll eventually let something slip. You know that, right?”

Bishop gestured in resignation. “Do your worst. There’s nothing they can tell you about me, because I have never engaged in kidnapping, and I never would.”

For once, Kathi held silent. She kept her gaze on her hands, and Dare almost felt sorry for her.
Almost
.