My parents exchanged glances that looked puzzled, but I didn’t buy it. Conversations like this with them weren’t verbal brawls, beating each other bloody with words. They were chess matches. Moving forward, then back, sidewise, sacrificing pawns for the end goal.
“Why would we hire a private investigator from New York?” Mom asked.
“I asked myself that same question.” I shifted my attention from her to my father. “At first, I thought she must’ve lied about where she was from, but that would’ve been too elaborate a set-up, even for you. Now, I think you did it because I wouldn’t believe anyone from this area since you have your fingers in every proverbial pie.”
Dad folded his hands on his stomach. He was still an impressive six feet, four inches, but his once athletic build was now softer, giving him a bit of a paunch. He’d hurt his knee two years ago and exercising had been difficult ever since. He’d told reporters that he’d had an accident while playing basketball with his grandson. I suspected it’d been something more along the lines of trying to keep up with whichever twenty-something he’d been sleeping with at the time.
“That’s an interesting accusation,” he said. “Did this PI say she was workin’ for us?”
“No, but I’m sure you paid her good money to keep quiet.”
“If she didn’t name us, then how can you know that we hired her?” The question came from Mom this time.
“You aren’t denying it,” I pointed out.
Dad shrugged. “Let this be my official declaration then. Neither your mother nor I hired anyone to do anything to you.”
“You’re both mad that I’m making this film.”
“We’re…unhappy that you want to damage the names of so many prominent families in Savannah,” Mom corrected. “Many of whom are your friends.”
I didn’t point out that those people were their friends, not mine. That detail wasn’t important at the moment. “Too many families try to sweep the past under the rug, try to pretend that there aren’t any skeletons in the closet.”
Dad leaned forward, his blue eyes cold. “Listen here, young man. You can’t just go around spreadin’ rumors to get attention.”
I shook my head. They’d never really understood what I was doing or why. “I would never say that things are facts unless I have the proof to back it up.”
“It won’t matter,” Mom said. “We all know how fast things spread, whether they’re true or not. If people get wind of what you’re doing, it’ll be a disaster.”
“You need to let this go.” Dad gave me his best ‘I’m in charge’ tone.
“I already shelved a film because I didn’t want to hurt our family,” I reminded him. “And like I told you when you asked me to put aside my film on Deacon Miller, once was enough.”
A dark flush crept up his neck. “You ungrateful little bastard.”
“Careful.” I let the word hang in the air for a few seconds. “We don’t want a rumor going around that I’m illegitimate.”
His hands clenched into fists. “You will not go diggin’ around in our family’s past. Everythin’ worth seein’ is already out there.”
“I don’t know what you thought Nyx was going to do, but whatever it is, it won’t work.” I brought the conversation back around to the reason I was actually there. It didn’t matter what Dad said. He’d already disinherited me. What else could he do?
“You’re right that we don’t want you to make this film,” Mom said, “but we didn’t take any measures to stop you. Certainly not hiring some random woman from up North.”
“Why should I believe you?”
Dad smirked at me. “Because we don’t need to prevent you from releasin’ your film, just make it not worth your while to do it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked warily.
“If you finish your movie and release it, the press will want to know our side of the story,” Mom explained, lifting her perfectly manicured hand to her chest in a show of fake surprise. “Of course, we’ll tell them that we told you what parts of the story were false, but you refused to change anything, claimin’ that you don’t need proof. That you can say whatever you want.”
If I didn’t know how well she could put on an ‘innocent’ act, I might’ve called her bluff, but what she was saying had the ring of truth to it.
“It’d be sad,” Dad took over, “tellin’ people that you were so upset about being disinherited that you’ve made up these lies about our