He stared through the glass, head bobbing as he took in the outside world.
“Why does she want Blake if she didn’t want me?” Holt looked to Marlow for answers I wasn’t sure anyone had. I felt for the guy. My parents had cut me out because they didn’t believe in me. Being straight up abandoned? I couldn’t deal. Not as well as he had.
“She doesn’t want him.” Wicked’s nostrils flared. “This is all to screw with us.”
“You brought her back into our lives.” Andrew stood, went to the liquor cabinet.
“She claims she was always there,” I defended as Marlow opened her mouth.
“And you believe her?” He slammed a glass on the quartz bar top. “How did we end up with a mother like her?”
“I said I was sorry.” Marlow shot from her chair and gripped the arm rest as if in unbearable pain.
I circled her wrist with my fingers. She glanced back at me, her disappointment etched on her face.
“Doesn’t matter who’s sorry for what if we can’t find Dad.” Holt joined Andrew by the liquor cabinet.
“Did anybody go by his place?” The room stopped. Everyone stared at me.
“Mrs. Quinn did.” Trish spoke quietly.
“He didn’t answer the door?” Marlow’s shoulders tensed.
“Wasn’t inside either.”
“How’d she get in?”
I tightened my grip on her in warning she might want to rein in her tone.
If Trish were fazed or annoyed, she didn’t show it. “With her key.”
Marlow’s silence said more than words on her opinion of that subject.
“Pop.”
I tickled Blake’s stomach. “Another new word? You are a vocabulary machine.”
“Pop.” He pointed out the window.
My eyes rounded. I ran to the front door and flung it open. A haggard Mr. Dixon trudged up the front walk.
He held up his hand when I opened my mouth. “Don’t.”
“You don’t have to answer to me, but there’s a lot of people in there that are going to want more than that.”
He peered around me hopefully. “Is Audrey here?”
“No,” I said hesitantly.
With a curt nod, he stepped inside.
“Where have you been?” Marlow led the pack from my study to the foyer. How she managed to get around as if nothing were wrong was a testament to her strength and determination.
“I had some things to take care of. What’s a man got to do to get a drink around here?”
“Why’d you come here?” Andrew side-stepped Marlow.
Mr. Dixon rubbed the back of his neck and glanced toward me. “I needed to talk to Patrick.”
I tilted my head. “Hope you didn’t mean privately.”
“It can wait.”
Trish held out her phone. “Mrs. Quinn wants to speak to you.”
An odd expression came over his face. With reluctance, he accepted, turned his back, and moved to a corner of the foyer.
No one said a word as he mumbled unintelligibly, but when he faced us once more, he was ashen.
“Where have you been?” The intensity of Marlow’s gaze had me freezing in place.
“It’s not important.” His attention shifted to me. “Drink?”
“Help yourself. You know where my study is.”
Mr. Dixon muscled through the crowd of family. Holt caught him by the arm. “You can’t do that to us, old man.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Worry? You scared the bejesus out of all of us.” Andrew shoved his hands into his pockets as if an attempt to keep from throttling something.
“Not my intent.”
“I thought we were supposed to be talking. Not keeping things from each other,” Marlow said.
He glanced down to where Holt’s fingers were still wrapped around his arm, ignoring Marlow’s accusation. Holt dropped his hand, and he continued down the hall, all of us staring after him.
My phone buzzed again, and out of habit, I checked the text.
Tick.
A habit it seemed I needed to break.
“Who’s that?” Marlow flicked her chin at me as I stuffed it back into my pocket.
“It’s nothing.”
She stepped into my space. “I’m tired of lies.”
“This is most important.”
“The case?” Damn, she wouldn’t let it go.
“Patrick, you have anything to eat?” Saved by the brother.
“Yeah. What do you want?”
Marlow ground her jaw. I kissed the top of her head as I edged past, thankful I didn’t have to fib.
Mr. Dixon appeared in the doorway to the study. “Why are you out of bed?”
“Because my father disappeared,” she shot back. “Did you think I’d just lay around while you were missing?”
He paled. “Go rest.”
“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Hell.” Blake flashed a grin at me.
“Proud of that, are we?” I gently pinched his cheek. He grabbed my fingers. “I won’t let you go,” I said against his forehead, squeezing him a little tighter.
Marlow’s father drained the amber liquid from his glass. “I went to see her.”
“Why would you do that?” Wicked’s shoulders slumped.
“She nearly destroyed me. I won’t—”
“Because of me.” Her arms wrapped around her middle. “Because of Blake and Gummy.”
“I can’t underestimate her. She doesn’t say idle things.”
“It took you twenty-four hours to straighten things out?” Andrew stared at his father.
“She’s a difficult woman.”
“What did you do?” She limped toward him, grabbed his hands, and shook them. “Please tell me you didn’t ruin your relationship with Mrs. Quinn.”
A puff of air escaped through his nostrils. “You didn’t really approve of her anyway.”
“I’m trying. I want you to be happy.” Her voice broke. “We could’ve figured out another way.”
“What did you do?” Holt leaned against the wall.
Another buzz.
Tick.
Once more I found myself at the center of attention. I flashed an apologetic smile, but before I could get my phone back into my pocket it vibrated again.
Boom.
“You have work to do. Thanks for the whiskey.” Mr. Dixon set his glass on the tall end table just inside my office.
“You’re not leaving.” Marlow followed him to the front door.
“Sweetheart, I’m tired.”
“But you didn’t tell us what happened.”
He turned the knob. “You got the highlights.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Marlow
“I went over there. He’s sitting in his chair and won’t move.”
I lay flat on my back in Patrick’s bed, my
