Page 151 of Crash Course
Mom let out a chuckle. "Good for you, darling."
While Mom opened the door, Cilla settled on the sofa, tucked her phone under her thigh, and pulled the throw blanket over her legs. Seconds later, Dad came from behind the cover of the entry hall. When his gaze landed on her, he paused, taking in the sight of her while his face pinched into a wince.
Cilla pointed at her cheek. "Lovely, isn’t it?"
He moved toward her, arms extended. Oh, no. He couldn't think she’d welcome a hug from him after what he’d done.
Holding up a hand, she’d stopped him mid-stride. "Come sit down, Dad. I don’t have much energy, so we’ll say what we have to and be done."
He turned to Mom. "Would you give us a minute?"
"No." Cilla said. "She won’t." She patted the spot beside her on the sofa. "Sit, Mom."
Her father’s eyebrows hit his hairline, his forehead wrinkling despite the Botox he regularly pumped in there. "I’d prefer to talk privately."
Fury ripped into her already battered skull. "I’m sure you would. Too bad. Mom stays. She’s been with me all night, trying to help me through a trauma. So, you will have to be a man and tell us what exactly you did. And you should know, a detective called this morning and told Mom he’d be coming by later today to update me on their investigation. You’ll probably be contacted after I tell them about your little admission."
Still standing, her father unbuttoned his suit jacket, preparing to sit in one of the two chairs across from the sofa. "What admission?"
Always the consummate liar, her father sat, his features stiff, yet somehow relaxed leaving him completely unreadable. Total puzzle.
"Please, Dad. Don’t do this. Look at me. Look what you did to me. For once, take responsibility for your actions. Including sabotaging my case."
He held his hands wide. "What I have I done?"
"Conspiracy to start with. You all but admitted you had my car blown up. You also used your influence with Nagle to get my plea deal rejected."
"Yes," Mom said. "Rosemary Nagle took great pleasure in sharing with me how our daughter was humiliated. Excellent work, Darren. You should be ashamed. Then again, you don't feel that particular emotion."
Dad gave her a heated look, then shifted his gaze to Cilla who offered a faux cheery grin.
"On that subject," she said, "in between bouts of vomiting this morning, thank you very much, I phoned Rick Bandy, the prosecutor on my case. I filled him in on what Mrs. Nagle told Mom."
Dad's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "Are you insane? You'll ruin a respected judge."
As if she cared? "Gee, Dad, what was it you told me after that hearing?" She peered up at the ceiling, replaying the conversation in her mind. "Oh, right. I remember." She met her father's gaze again, picturing burning a hole through him. "You said, 'Maybe it's what should happen.' In this case, I agree. Rick has assured me he'll take care of it. Judge Nagle should, at the very least, be recusing himself from my case any time now and we'll get back to giving my client a fair deal. Personally, I hope the Judicial Standards Commission investigates.Thatwould be fun. As for you, tell me everything you've done and maybe you can convince me not to send you to prison. Did you send Paul to threaten me?"
Dad eased back, crossing one ankle over his knee. "Don’t be so dramatic. I asked him to talk to you about nosing around in Morgan."
Oh. Please. "Youareclueless, aren’t you?"
"Watch your mouth."
"No," Mom said. "Youwatch your mouth. If it were up to me, I’d lock you up for the rest of your life for what you’ve done to my child."
"Our child."
"Not in my book. After this, you’re dead to me. I wouldn’t blame Cilla if she never wanted to hear from you again."
Dad gave her a hard look and Mom laughed. "Darren, your intimidation tactics stopped working on me years ago."
Go Mom.Still, she needed to keep the discussion from derailing.
"So," Cilla said, "if I’ve put the pieces together correctly, you’ve been behind this the whole time. Were you the one who pulled my access to the Randolph server?"
When Dad stayed silent, Cilla slid her phone from under her thigh. "Fine. If you don't want to talk to me, I'll call the detective who'll be here later and give him a preview of what I intend to tell him. Let him get on it quicker."
Dad raised a hand up. "Put that phone down."
