because you asked me to come. That’s it. The work I’ve been doing on his behalf I’ve been doing for you, Melinda and Esme. And for the Perry legacy.”
“I understand. But wouldn’t it be better to take credit for what you’ve done than to listen to him complain for the next three days about how his only son doesn’t give a damn about him?”
“He’s not entirely wrong.” Roarke massaged the tension in his neck that intensified with every step he took toward Sterling Perry.
Angela elbowed his side. “You don’t mean that.”
He opened his mouth to object, but his sister fixed him with a stare, her arms folded.
“You don’t mean that,” she repeated.
He sighed. “Fine. Where is the old man, anyway?”
“Right here,” his father called from atop the stairs, his voice stern. “Not that you care a single solitary lick.” Sterling Perry descended the stairs. “I footed the bill for that fancy law degree you insist on wasting on small potatoes clients. Yet, you didn’t use a whiff of what you learned to come to my aid.”
“Hello to you, too, Sterling.” Roarke usually didn’t call his father that to his face, but the man had managed to piss him off within ten seconds of his arrival.
The older man scowled at the use of his name. “What brings you here, boy?”
Roarke’s hands instantly curled into fists at his sides. A natural reaction to being raised by an asshole father who everyone else seemed to think walked on water.
At least they had prior to his father being accused of running a Ponzi scheme. Then there was the body that had been found at the building site of the new Houston chapter of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. A construction site run by Perry Holdings. The victim hadn’t been identified as of yet, and his father hadn’t been formally implicated in the murder. But Roarke feared it was only a matter of time before investigators tried to pin that on Sterling, too.
“He’s here to see you, of course, Dad.” Melinda kissed her father on the cheek. “Why else would he be here?” She smiled sweetly at Roarke, but her eyes pleaded with him to just go along.
He’d spent his entire damn life “just going along” with Sterling Perry’s nonsense. First, at the behest of his late mother. Then at the bidding of his sisters. It was the reason he hadn’t been able to get out of there fast enough. And it was the reason he hadn’t moved back.
Roarke had come to the conclusion that Houston wasn’t big enough for him and Sterling Perry. And that was just fine by him. Dallas was his home now.
“In fact, Roarke didn’t want you to know it, but he was instrumental in getting you released on house arrest. He’s been working tirelessly behind the scenes to get you exonerated,” Angela added quickly, before he could object.
“That true, boy?” Sterling walked toward him.
Roarke shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Yes, sir. It is.”
“Hmm.” Sterling sniffed, as if weighing the possibility that his “worthless” son had been the one to secure his release.
“Seems to me that if you were able to get me out on house arrest, if you’d pushed a little harder, I’d be completely exonerated.” Sterling shrugged in response to his daughters’ groans of disapproval at his signature lack of gratitude. “Well, I am innocent, and he’s supposed to be a hotshot champion for the underdog. I’ve done nothing wrong. Yet, I’m being treated like a common criminal.”
Their father stuck his foot out and lifted his pant leg, revealing his ankle monitor. “This thing itches like the dickens.”
“For once, Dad, could you at least try not to be so awful to Roarke?” Esme folded her arms, her voice sharp as she narrowed her gaze at their father. “Despite his busy caseload, Roarke found a way to get you released from that hellhole. And he dropped everything to come here.”
Sterling inhaled deeply, looking as if his youngest daughter’s words had pained him. Finally, he stuck out a hand and offered it to Roarke.
“Thank you for getting me out of there.”
He shook his father’s hand. “You’re welcome.”
“Now that you’re here, you’ll be able to investigate further. Someone set me up and as soon as I find out who, there’ll be hell to pay. I can’t live like this.” He indicated the ankle bracelet again. “Not to mention what it’s doing to my name and the value of our business. You have got to get to the root of this. Find out who did this to me. To all of us.”
His father had a stable of high-priced lawyers. So how in the hell had he suddenly been tasked with being the lead investigator responsible for clearing Sterling Perry’s name?
“I brought my case file, and there are a few people I’d like to question. See if they can shed a little more light on how this all got started.” Roarke indicated the messenger bag Angela was carrying.
“Good, let’s step into the den and talk shop.”
“Now?” Roarke hoped to get a moment to regroup before sitting down to discuss the case.
“Can’t think of a better time.” Sterling headed into the den.
Roarke groaned, taking the bag from his sister as he followed his father to the den. He hadn’t been there five minutes and already Sterling was manipulating him. He couldn’t get on that return flight to Dallas fast enough.
He took a seat and met his father’s stare. “Do you have any ideas about who might’ve set you up?”
“You’re damn right I do.” His father flicked a glance toward the entry hall, where his sisters were chattering about putting the pies on plates. Sterling closed the door, then sat in a leather wingback chair identical to the one in which he was seated.
“Ryder Currin is trying to destroy me, as sure as I’m sitting here looking at you.” Sterling pointed a finger emphatically.
“Ryder Currin?” Roarke repeated the name, but more quietly after his father shushed him. The two men had been rivals for as long as Roarke could remember. And with the latest chapter of the Texas Cattleman’s Club being established in Houston, both men were vying for leadership roles. Then, there was the fact that his sister Angela was seeing the man. “Look, I know there’s no love lost between you two, but do you honestly think he’d go to such lengths to ruin you?”
“Do you honestly believe it’s a coincidence that all of this is happening when I’m making a bid to be president of the Houston branch of the Texas Cattleman’s Club?” Sterling retorted.
His father went to the bar and poured them both a glass of whiskey. Roarke accepted it gratefully and sipped. The tension in his neck melted a little as heat from the premium whiskey spread through his body.
“First, Ryder Currin takes a sudden liking to my girl out there.” Sterling nodded toward the door. “Next, I’m accused of running a goddamn Ponzi scheme. Then a dead body is found at my construction site.” He took a long pull of his whiskey, then set the glass down hard on a nearby side table. “No, sir. Ain’t no way this is all a coincidence.”
“I’ll grant you that,” Roarke acknowledged, taking another sip of his whiskey. “And it may very well be connected to the Texas Cattleman’s Club coming here to Houston. But it’s a long stretch to accuse Ryder Currin of being behind it all.”
“Why am I not surprised that you’d take his side?” Sterling groused, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and refilling his glass.
“I’m not taking his side, Ster—” Roarke inhaled a deep breath, then released it. “I’m not taking his side. But I won’t accuse a man of such serious crimes without a shred of proof. If we go to the prosecutor with a hunch and some conjecture, we’ll get