When You Dare
Page 44
Hmm. He had looked genuinely surprised by it all.
Dare decided to press him. Coming out from around the SUV door, he closed the distance to Molly’s father. At around five feet, nine inches, Bishop stood damn near a half foot shorter than Dare. He was lean, toned, but he lacked any real strength.
Physically, he was half the man Dare was. In character, he was a worm.
“So, Bishop,” Dare said, “it would surprise you to learn that your daughter was snatched out front of her apartment building?”
“That’s ridiculous. Who would want Molly?”
God almighty, Dare wanted to hit him. One good pop to the nose, that’s all. Bishop wouldn’t be so smug or condescending with his own blood splattered over his face. “And I guess you didn’t know that she was taken to Tijuana, held captive, starved, tormented and threatened?”
“I don’t believe you,” Bishop blustered. The earlier hot color leached from his face. He said again, “I don’t believe you.”
“She was taken, all right.”
Even while shaking his head in denial, Bishop muttered, “But…why?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
Perplexed, Bishop looked down in thought, then glared at Dare. “This is hard to accept. And what do you have to do with it, anyway?”
“Not a damn thing, except that I’m the one who found her.”
With even more suspicion, Bishop asked, “In Tijuana?”
“Yes.” Keeping it vague, Dare gave a bare-bones assessment. “I was there for unrelated reasons, and I saw her. Her condition was not good.”
“What do you mean?” And in accusation: “You said she was okay.”
“She’s alive, and she’s healing.” Physically. Emotionally… Dare just didn’t know. “But she was poorly treated.”
The seconds ticked by; Bishop swallowed. “Raped?”
“She says not.” The rapid-fire questions felt more devious than frantic.
“Who had her?”
“People who deal in white slavery.”
Bishop blanched in horror. “Dear God. White slavery? But surely… Where is she now?” He looked around aghast as if expecting her to suddenly appear. “She’s not with you, is she?”
“I told you, she’s safe. I have her well away from here.” Away from you.
“I see.” Though he tried to hide it, Bishop’s evident relief couldn’t be missed.
It wasn’t relief for his daughter’s safety—the bastard.
“Well.” Bishop tugged at his tailored shirt. “I’m pleased to hear that she’s all right.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Disregarding Dare’s statement, Bishop forged on. “She obviously can’t come back home.”
“Home?” Dare inquired.
“To Ohio.”
His eyes narrowed. “To where you live, you mean?”
As if justified, Bishop said, “There would be a ghastly scandal. The media would have a field day if they got wind of this, and knowing Molly, she won’t even attempt to keep it quiet.”
“You would expect her to?”
His chin shot up. “For the sake of her family, and to protect our good name, of course that’s what I expect.”
“She didn’t ask to be taken, you know.”
“Maybe not in so many words.” Bishop curled his lip in disdain and distaste. “But still…”
Wishing he could demolish the smaller man, Dare asked, “What do you mean by that?”
“She’s my daughter. Of course I care about her well-being. But odds are she brought this on herself.”
“Are you f**king kidding me?” Dare had seen some hideous people in his time, but Molly’s father beat them all.
“With that filth she writes and the way she—”
As Dare stiffened in fury, Bishop trailed off.
Through his teeth, Dare gritted out, “It is not her fault.”
“This is absurd.” Bishop dismissed the topic with a shake of his head. “I’m not going to continue this conversation with you. I don’t even know your name.”
Straightening to his full height, Dare glared down at him. “But I know yours, Bishop. And if I find out you had anything to do with Molly’s abduction, I’ll damn well take you apart, piece by piece.”
His mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re threatening me?”
Bishop obviously couldn’t believe such a notion.
“I’m explaining the facts to you.”
Umbrage stiffened the older man’s spine. “I don’t have to listen to this.”
As he turned away, Dare said, “Fact number one is that Molly is coming home.”
That stalled Bishop in his tracks.
“She needs to know who did this to her. And so do I. The best way to find that out is to confront people.”
“That’s outrageous! Good God, man, you don’t brag about it when you’ve been defiled. You show some common decency and you cover it up.”
“Fact number two,” Dare said, speaking over Bishop’s protestations, “is that Molly isn’t going to hide anything—but you are.”
He bristled at the order. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What is it you think I need to hide?”
“That we’ve met, that you know Molly is safe with me and that I’m hunting for the one responsible. You aren’t going to say a word about this to anyone. No one is to know about Molly, not until she or I tell them.”
Dare decided to press him. Coming out from around the SUV door, he closed the distance to Molly’s father. At around five feet, nine inches, Bishop stood damn near a half foot shorter than Dare. He was lean, toned, but he lacked any real strength.
Physically, he was half the man Dare was. In character, he was a worm.
“So, Bishop,” Dare said, “it would surprise you to learn that your daughter was snatched out front of her apartment building?”
“That’s ridiculous. Who would want Molly?”
God almighty, Dare wanted to hit him. One good pop to the nose, that’s all. Bishop wouldn’t be so smug or condescending with his own blood splattered over his face. “And I guess you didn’t know that she was taken to Tijuana, held captive, starved, tormented and threatened?”
“I don’t believe you,” Bishop blustered. The earlier hot color leached from his face. He said again, “I don’t believe you.”
“She was taken, all right.”
Even while shaking his head in denial, Bishop muttered, “But…why?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
Perplexed, Bishop looked down in thought, then glared at Dare. “This is hard to accept. And what do you have to do with it, anyway?”
“Not a damn thing, except that I’m the one who found her.”
With even more suspicion, Bishop asked, “In Tijuana?”
“Yes.” Keeping it vague, Dare gave a bare-bones assessment. “I was there for unrelated reasons, and I saw her. Her condition was not good.”
“What do you mean?” And in accusation: “You said she was okay.”
“She’s alive, and she’s healing.” Physically. Emotionally… Dare just didn’t know. “But she was poorly treated.”
The seconds ticked by; Bishop swallowed. “Raped?”
“She says not.” The rapid-fire questions felt more devious than frantic.
“Who had her?”
“People who deal in white slavery.”
Bishop blanched in horror. “Dear God. White slavery? But surely… Where is she now?” He looked around aghast as if expecting her to suddenly appear. “She’s not with you, is she?”
“I told you, she’s safe. I have her well away from here.” Away from you.
“I see.” Though he tried to hide it, Bishop’s evident relief couldn’t be missed.
It wasn’t relief for his daughter’s safety—the bastard.
“Well.” Bishop tugged at his tailored shirt. “I’m pleased to hear that she’s all right.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Disregarding Dare’s statement, Bishop forged on. “She obviously can’t come back home.”
“Home?” Dare inquired.
“To Ohio.”
His eyes narrowed. “To where you live, you mean?”
As if justified, Bishop said, “There would be a ghastly scandal. The media would have a field day if they got wind of this, and knowing Molly, she won’t even attempt to keep it quiet.”
“You would expect her to?”
His chin shot up. “For the sake of her family, and to protect our good name, of course that’s what I expect.”
“She didn’t ask to be taken, you know.”
“Maybe not in so many words.” Bishop curled his lip in disdain and distaste. “But still…”
Wishing he could demolish the smaller man, Dare asked, “What do you mean by that?”
“She’s my daughter. Of course I care about her well-being. But odds are she brought this on herself.”
“Are you f**king kidding me?” Dare had seen some hideous people in his time, but Molly’s father beat them all.
“With that filth she writes and the way she—”
As Dare stiffened in fury, Bishop trailed off.
Through his teeth, Dare gritted out, “It is not her fault.”
“This is absurd.” Bishop dismissed the topic with a shake of his head. “I’m not going to continue this conversation with you. I don’t even know your name.”
Straightening to his full height, Dare glared down at him. “But I know yours, Bishop. And if I find out you had anything to do with Molly’s abduction, I’ll damn well take you apart, piece by piece.”
His mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re threatening me?”
Bishop obviously couldn’t believe such a notion.
“I’m explaining the facts to you.”
Umbrage stiffened the older man’s spine. “I don’t have to listen to this.”
As he turned away, Dare said, “Fact number one is that Molly is coming home.”
That stalled Bishop in his tracks.
“She needs to know who did this to her. And so do I. The best way to find that out is to confront people.”
“That’s outrageous! Good God, man, you don’t brag about it when you’ve been defiled. You show some common decency and you cover it up.”
“Fact number two,” Dare said, speaking over Bishop’s protestations, “is that Molly isn’t going to hide anything—but you are.”
He bristled at the order. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What is it you think I need to hide?”
“That we’ve met, that you know Molly is safe with me and that I’m hunting for the one responsible. You aren’t going to say a word about this to anyone. No one is to know about Molly, not until she or I tell them.”
