so forcefully it was a miracle he didn’t crush the frame. Instead of demanding he continue, Arnie simply growled—and not in a friendly way.
“She happened to see Mr. Darnell in the hotel lobby.” Wells’s gaze darted around the room and looked everywhere but at him. “He, uh, wasn’t alone. A young lady accompanied him.”
Seething with fury, Arnie nearly puked when a flood of hot bile rushed into his gut and burned his throat. He started to rise from the chair until Stan’s hand on his shoulder pushed him back down.
Bruce Wells was smart enough to take a step back. His voice shaking and nervous, the rest of the bizarre story came out. He told them everything—how Giselle ascertained the girl was a local and how easy it was to dig into her past. When he described Summer’s desperate visit to the hotel in an attempt to find out why he vanished, Arnie’s head swam.
He wanted to kill his former stepmother for trying to intimidate Summer and for telling lies about him. She’d gone too far this time.
Unfortunately, he was about to find out how much further Giselle was capable of going.
The bottom dropped out from under him. He fell deep into a river of fiery lava, exploding with incandescent rage when the truth was revealed.
“Without my knowledge or involvement, Giselle hired a local freelance guy who specialized in gotcha surveillance for divorces. He discovered the young lady was pregnant and …”
Lethal anger mixed with hatred rose inside him. He exploded like an animal intent on ravaging everything in his way. The sound from his throat began as a howl of pain and ended with feral intensity. Someone, and he knew who, was going to die.
This time, two sets of hands pushed him back into the chair. Using the voice of parental authority, his dad told him to sit the fuck down. The story wasn’t over.
The lawyer’s frightened expression let Arnie know he was every bit as wild-eyed and dangerous as he felt. He vibrated with anger but managed to stay down. If there was more, he needed to hear it all before deciding what to do.
“Um, so,” Wells cautiously continued. “She, uh, well, you see, Giselle believed he who controlled gained access. When Mr. Darnell disappeared, Giselle saw her chance to control the young lady.”
Arnie growled menacingly.
“Control how?” his father asked in a calm voice.
“Well, she intended to scare the young lady. Rattle her cage with a mild threat. She used Mr. Darnell’s absence to insinuate things untrue. But it didn’t go the way she planned.”
Arnie’s father held the floor and asked the questions. “How so?”
“The lady in question, Miss Warren, well, she wasn’t buying what Giselle was selling. I believe a good word to describe their exchange was feisty. Money was offered. A fracas broke out. It became aggressive. We were thrown out, and I believe, Miss Warren was fired.”
“All of it,” Stan snarled. “Tell him the rest and do it fast.”
In a rapid, lawyerly delivery, he spelled it out.
“Miss Warren had a surprise or two up her sleeve. She immediately went underground and disappeared without a trace. She covered her tracks well. It drove Giselle batty. Eventually, we picked up her trail because of a fluke. There was a university parking sticker on the car Miss Warren drove and then sold for cash through Craig’s List. It was a simple thing to find a hacker motivated by cash to find a way into her student account. After that, it was a wait-and-see situation. At some point, Miss Warren logged into her student account. It took effort, but Giselle forced the hacker guy to isolate the IP address. It was a public library in North Hollywood. Then it was a simple matter of pinpointing nearby birthing centers. If she was trying to stay anonymous, it was a good bet she’d pick a small health center rather than a big hospital.”
Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. He was vibrating with rage, couldn’t breathe, and Arnie was sure he was having a heart attack.
Summer sold her car and ran away. Not because of him. Because of Giselle. Unless he misunderstood, she was hiding out in the suburbs of Los Angeles. He did the math. A baby of theirs would be about three months old. When she needed him most, he’d let her down.
He felt sick to his stomach.
“You have a daughter, Mr. Darnell. Arianne. Arianne Leigh.”
“Jesus Christ.” His father gasped. “Did you say Arianne? Arianne Leigh?”
“Oh, fuck,” Stan