Implied Consent by Keenan Powell

Author:Keenan Powell [Powell, Keenan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-26T00:00:00+00:00

I WAS SO DISTRACTED I forgot where Sunny was parked, so I let Jake drive us back to the loft. When we arrived home, I flopped on the couch. He brought me another beer and one for himself, then sat down beside me. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“He stole the Rivera from my mother.”

“It’s his word against hers.” What he didn’t say was, “and she isn’t around to testify about it.” I could sue Frank, but the painting was gone. I’d never get it back. With my mother not around to testify, the chances were I wouldn’t win. If I won, I’d have to hound Frank for the money equivalent. Or I could file a police report. But then we’d be back to the same problem as before. He would deny it and claim I had filed a false report. Without my mother’s testimony, it was unlikely the DA’s office would file charges.

“The break-in. It had to be him, you know it. No one else would be interested in my attorney notes. But was that the only thing they were looking for? Why turn the furniture upside down and cut away the netting? My notes were in a folder in the cabinet. They could have slipped in and took the file, and we might not have noticed it was missing for days. And even then, we would have thought it was just misfiled.

“I assumed they trashed the place to cover up for stealing my file.

What if they were really looking for that thumb drive? Eli knew I had it. Frank stole the Rivera and lied about it to cover up the theft. Then Sophia is murdered. I can’t honestly believe my father would have someone murdered just so he could win a case. Frank Gould? Wheeler-dealer, maybe. Betrayal and greed, sure. But murder?”

“Red, don’t let yourself spin out of control. All that stuff happened, but that doesn’t mean they’re connected.”

And there were girls at The Duke’s party, Josephine had said. Young girls. My scars began to itch. I scrubbed my arm with the palm of my hand until it was numb.

For the second time that day, I didn’t know what I should do next. We finished our beer in silence and went to bed. When he put his arm around me, I pulled away. “Sorry, not tonight.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He kissed me on the top of my head. “Sweet dreams.” With that, he rolled over.

I listened to his breathing as it slowed. When I was sure he was asleep, I got up, pulled on his bathrobe, grabbed an extra blanket from the closet, and walked to the great room. Germaine Greer was curled up on one end of the couch. When I sat down, she lifted her head long enough to give me a nasty look, then went back to sleep. I curled up on the opposite side and wrapped the blanket around me.

Frank had stolen the Rivera from my mother. When he told my mother he’d sent it out for cleaning, she believed him.

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