father could.
Knocking on the door, Marlowe didn’t wait for a response but opened it and walked right in.
Payne Colton immediately swung around. “What?” he demanded, abruptly curtailing the supposedly encouraging words he was imparting to his firstborn, Ace. However, coming from Payne’s mouth, even encouragement came out sounding like he was venting his anger.
Ace Colton wasn’t the target or the cause of that anger, but given the scope of his father’s displeasure, Marlowe could imagine he felt as if he might as well have been.
All of his children had decided long ago that Payne Colton’s ways took a lifetime to get used to—and even then it wasn’t always easy.
Marlowe mustered the best smile she could at the moment and told her father, “I just thought you’d want to know that I put Daniel Okowski on the trail of our anonymous emailer.”
The silver-gray mane bobbed up and down in approval. “Good. What did Okowski say? How long before he has some answers for me?”
The fact that her father had placed himself rather than her as the key player in this wasn’t lost on Marlowe, but then, he did own the company, and anything that affected the company affected Payne Colton directly, so she wasn’t about to quibble. It was a given, she thought, resigned to the fact.
“That’s just it, Dad...” she began slowly, attempting to hedge her bets, only to have him break in and interrupt her.
“What’s ‘just it’?” her father demanded. “C’mon, girl, speak plainly. It’s way too late in the evening to be playing riddles,” he thundered.
“Let her talk, Dad,” Ace requested patiently.
Payne glared at his oldest son. He’d never liked being interrupted. “I am letting her talk,” Payne retorted. “It’s not my fault that she doesn’t talk fast enough, and when she does talk, it comes out in circles.” His eyes shifted back toward his daughter. “Well, go ahead. What is it you’re trying to tell me?”
Marlowe picked her words slowly, never taking her eyes off her father’s face. “Daniel said that navigating the message might have links to the dark web. That is tricky, and there’s a chance that we might never find out who’s responsible for sending that email to us.”
“What do you mean by never?” Payne demanded, exasperated.
“Exactly that,” she responded. “Those were Daniel’s words, Dad. Not mine. I guess he means that it’s a lot more complicated than any of us might think,” she began, only to be cut off again.
Payne laughed. It was a nasty sound with no mirth attached to it.
“Don’t be so naive, little girl. Money can buy anything. It can damn sure get us those answers we’re looking for, so we can fight even dirtier than this guy who’s hiding behind his anonymous email. I’ll just give Okowski a bunch of money to wave around, and you’ll be surprised how fast those ‘dark web’ doors will fly open for us,” he informed Marlowe and Ace with utterly unshakable confidence.
“I certainly hope you’re right, Dad,” Marlowe said. Her eyes darted toward her half brother. “For everyone’s sake.”
“Of course I’m right,” Payne retorted. Marlowe saw that her father was dead serious as he added, “I’m always right.”
Marlowe only wished that she had even half of her father’s confidence.
“I’m going to go back to my office and talk to Okowski about that added incentive I’m giving him,” Payne told his children. He held up the cell phone he had in his hand. “Keep these close in case I have to call you about any further developments.” And with that, he walked out of the boardroom.
“Why don’t you go home, Marlowe, and get some rest,” Ace suggested kindly.
She looked at him sharply. “Why would you say that?” she demanded. Did her brother suspect something?
“Well, I hate to put it this way, but to be honest,” he said in a kind voice, “you look terrible.”
She was instantly defensive, but the feeling quickly subsided. Ace was just watching out for her the way he always did. “Funny you should say that. I feel terrible,” she admitted.
“Are you sick, Marlowe?” he asked, concerned.
No, I’m pregnant.
But Marlowe didn’t feel up to sharing this news with her family just yet, so she merely said, “Just about this situation.” Then, because it was in her nature to be the family cheerleader, she said, “Don’t worry, Ace. None of us are buying into that ridiculously fabricated claim in that email, and Dad’s behind you a hundred percent. We’re going to get to the bottom of all this,” she promised him with feeling.
“I’m not worried,” Ace told her. “Just mad that this is taking away precious time from the work we should be doing.” He looked at her more closely. “Now go home and get some rest,” he repeated, kissing the top of Marlowe’s head. “That’s an order.”
Though it was strong, she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around Ace and cling to him the way she used to when she was little and felt as if the whole world was closing in on her.
Ace would never judge her, never indicate that he thought it was a sign of weakness for her to display a need for comfort. But she knew that if she did that now, Ace would sense that there was something wrong other than the fatigue she was claiming. He would start asking her questions, and she wouldn’t be able to lie to him. She never had, but she couldn’t burden him with this, either. He had more than enough to deal with without taking on her problem, as well.
So instead, Marlowe flashed a smile at him. “Sounds like good advice, although I really am fine,” she assured him.
He nodded, clearly glad she wasn’t fighting him on this. Seemingly as an afterthought, he told her, “Call me if you hear anything.”
“You, too,” she told him.
Ace grinned at her, that same warm grin that he usually flashed. She knew he was doing it for her benefit, and she appreciated it.
“Count on it,” he said.
Somewhat heartened, Marlowe left the building and got into her car. But instead of going home—a home she shared with all of her siblings as well as her parents, as the house was large enough to accommodate all of them without having any of them running into the other members—she made the decision to go to her other dwelling.
She had purchased a condominium in downtown Mustang Valley. It was located at the very base of the mountain. She used it only whenever she found herself working late and didn’t feel up to undertaking the drive home.
No one would bother Bowie and her there, Marlowe thought. That meant they could talk in private, although very honestly, aside from asking him a few questions about the allegations he had initially made, she didn’t know what she was going to say to the man who had turned her entire world upside down by impregnating her.
She wasn’t even sure at this point just what she planned to do about that pregnancy.
Turning on the car’s overhead light, she took out her phone and sent a text to Bowie.
If you still want to talk, I’ll be at my condo in half an hour. She then texted Bowie the address. Finished, she tucked away her phone and started up her car.
She’d lied about when she expected to arrive home. The condo was only ten minutes away from Colton Oil’s headquarters. But she wanted the extra time to change her clothes and try to unwind from this overly stressful day before she had to face Bowie again.
The traffic was light. She arrived at the condo in eight minutes rather than ten.
Parking her car in the underground parking structure, she took the elevator