Custom Built (Fast & Fury #1) - Chantal Fernando Page 0,29
Neville. She had no idea who he really was either, so it’s almost like all three of us have this in common.
At least it wasn’t just me who was completely fooled.
And yet here we are, Uncle Neville’s daughter, stepdaughter and niece, all together, and none of us hate him.
In fact, it’s the opposite.
* * *
“Hey, I got your message about your dad,” Nadia says as I step into her office. She gives me a warm hug, then her hands land on my shoulders as she looks over me. “I’m so sorry, Bronte. I know how close you were with him.”
“It’s been a rough two weeks,” I admit, embracing her once more and then sitting down opposite her desk. “But I’m here because I need your help.”
“What do you need?” she asks, sitting down and going into professional mode. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
“I want to find out exactly what happened to my dad,” I say. “And I want you to help me do that.”
“Tell me,” she says.
“I don’t think what I’ve been told is what really happened. My dad didn’t take any prescription pain meds, and the pills next to his bed didn’t even have his name on them. They had no label. And after finding out potentially he could have had some enemies due to the nature of his...work, well, it seems like an obvious answer that someone could have done this to him. The police aren’t looking into the blood work because they believe there’s no foul play.”
* * *
I tell her about his secret career I had no idea about and how that could be a reason that people might want him dead. The more she knows, the more she might be able to help me piece this whole thing together.
“Well, I didn’t see any of that coming,” she says, jaw dropping and brown eyes going wide. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning, and I’m going to write this all down.”
“Already done,” I say, taking out a notebook from my handbag and handing it to her. She takes it from me and opens it, scanning what I’ve written.
“And you’re sure?” she asks, studying me.
I nod. “I know it in my gut he did not overdose on pills.”
“Okay,” she replies.
And then we get to work.
We make a chart, listing everything we know, and a list of everything we need to find out. We start doing Google and social media searches, and we try to piece together this thing, one clue at a time. It’s like old times, only now I’m the client.
Every new idea can lead us somewhere, and nothing is discounted. No lead is too small.
We are going to get to the bottom of this, and I’m not going to give up until we do.
* * *
“I went and saw Nadia, and the two of us are working on finding out the truth about what happened to Dad,” I tell Crow and Abbie that evening. I invited Abbie and Crow over for dinner so we can chat and I can catch Abbie up on everything.
“You can’t just throw yourself into this drug world. It’s not safe, Bronte,” Crow says, scowling. He rests his elbows on his knees, studying me.
“Clearly,” I mutter. Or maybe my dad would still be here right now.
“It’s a dangerous game,” Crow says, sharing a glance with Abbie. We’re all sitting on the couch, a cheese platter in front of us. “Especially since we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“We?” I ask, brows lifting.
“You think I’m going to let you do this alone?” he replies, sitting up straight and running his hand through his blond hair. “I’ll make a deal with you: I’ll help you do whatever you need to do, but you need to promise not to go running into situations that you have no idea about or aren’t equipped to deal with, all right? I know that you’re a strong, independent, badass woman, blah blah, but there’s only so much you can do if you’re in a crowded room filled with men with guns.”
Is he telling me that he will help me, but only if he gets to control everything?
“You’re a control freak, aren’t you?” I fire back at him.
Abbie laughs, but Crow shakes his head. “I’m not. I just don’t want you killed. That’s fair, don’t you think? Fuck, now I know how Saint, Renny and Temper feel.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “And I never asked for your help, so you can’t act like