Lori Foster - Men Of Honour

Bishop harrumphed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then you’re dumber than I assumed.” Dare held up the device for him to see. “Someone is trying to get into the back of my SUV. If it’s not under your order, then I’m free to kill the bastard for his daring.” He made to rise.

Nearly choking on his anger, Bishop waved Dare back to his seat and then spoke quietly to Kathi.

She nodded and left the room.

Dare noticed that Kathi hadn’t blinked an eye over his statement that he might kill. Was she used to such things?

From Bishop and his cohorts?

Disbelief brought Molly forward on her seat. “Dad, really? You had someone break into Dare’s car? And don’t play innocent. Nothing happens here without your consent.”

Lacking remorse, Bishop shrugged. “I’m sure your guardian understands caution.”

Molly wasn’t appeased. “I understand an invasion of privacy!”

Dare put a hand on her thigh—something that Bishop didn’t miss—and Molly subsided.

That Bishop now understood the intimacy of their involvement suited Dare. He wanted her father to know that in every way, Dare had a stake in keeping her safe. Unless he really was an idiot, Bishop would understand that an emotionally involved man would be far more lethal than someone only interested in financial remuneration.

“I understand precaution, too, Bishop. There’s no way in hell you’re going to catch me off guard, so you might as well give it a rest.” Dare watched him closely as he sipped his coffee. “But then, you didn’t get the message the last time we spoke, did you?”

Kathi reentered the room and went to sit in an ornate armchair at the side of her husband’s desk. Like a well-trained lapdog, she looked prepared to wait in silence until her husband needed something from her.

Bishop set his cup aside with a clatter. “What are you talking about?”

“You had Molly’s apartment ransacked. Tell me, what were you looking for?”

“The hell I did!”

“You tossed the place.” In his peripheral vision, Dare saw Kathi look down at her hands. Interesting. He didn’t want to look at her directly, but even indirectly he saw that she knew … something.

Was it guilt over her husband’s involvement? Had Bishop actually told her of what he planned? Had he involved her?

Furious, Bishop leaned forward. “I did nothing of the kind.”

“It wasn’t destruction meant as a threat. You wanted something. Tell me what you were looking for.”

His fist slammed down on the desk, causing Kathi to jump. “I’m telling you that I didn’t go anywhere near her damned apartment.”

Conversely, Dare kept his tone mild. “Maybe not personally. But you sent someone.”

“I didn’t!” Emphatic and insulted, he braced both hands on the desk and rose to his feet. “Yes, I told a private investigator that’s assisted me in the past about your … visit. But I didn’t send anyone to Molly’s apartment.”

“I told you not to speak of it to anyone.”

“You had my daughter!” Bishop shouted. “You told me she’d been kidnapped. I had a right to find out what I could about you.”

Dare almost believed him. His reactions were honest umbrage, not subterfuge.

The idea of him trying to dig into his past made Dare smile. “Came up blank, didn’t you?”

Bishop switched tactics and appealed to Molly. “What do you really know about this man? Have you checked into his past? Do you know what he’s done, what he’s capable of doing? How safe do you think you are while under his control?”

“He doesn’t control me. I’m with him because it’s the safest place for me to be right now.”

That struck Dare. Was safety her only reason for being with him? No, he didn’t believe that—but it sounded viable to tell her father.

“He’s had his hands all over you!” Bishop accused. “He’s sleeping with you for your money, and you’re desperate enough—”

“Bishop.” The softly spoken reminder cut through Bishop’s raised voice. Dare wanted a reason to take the bastard apart.

But he’d prefer that it not be in front of Molly.

Panting, her father retrenched, taking his seat in a formal display that left Kathi twitching beside him.

Lower, he mumbled, “He’s after my money, Molly. Can’t you see that?”

Molly shook her head. “You’re painting him with your own attributes, Dad. Dare isn’t like that. And in fact, he’s wealthy in his own right. He doesn’t need your money, and he won’t take mine.” Sounding sour, she added, “I’ve tried to pay him, and he won’t let me.”

Kathi licked her lips and joined the fray. “Molly, honey, you haven’t shown the best judgment in the past. Adrian is a perfect example.”

Molly turned on Kathi with disbelief. “But you and Dad wanted me to marry Adrian! Have you forgotten that?”

“He was the only prospect, and you were already involved with him. And at least he had some breeding.” She glanced at Dare and cleared her throat. “Perhaps if you had taken our advice just that one time, we wouldn’t be here now, dealing with this new … situation of yours.”

“She’s right,” Bishop said. “You refused Adrian’s attention and then went and got yourself kidnapped and God knows what else.”

“I can’t believe this.” Molly shot to her feet before Dare could get hold of her. She charged toward her father, finger pointed. “He was a user! Adrian only supported my career once he saw I was making good money. You’re right—he probably wanted your money, too. The poor fool didn’t realize that you’d disowned Natalie and me ages ago.”

“You aren’t disowned,” Kathi quietly said with a disapproving frown. “You know your father only wanted to ensure that you reached your own potential rather than relying on his accomplishments for your happiness. He wanted you to be independent. He is a wonderful father.”

Good God, Dare thought. Did the twit really believe that nonsense?

Molly snorted. And then to her dad, she said, “For the record, I didn’t get myself kidnapped. Someone else arranged that for me.”

“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.”