Her 24-Hour Protector(40)

His face, usually so controlled, his blue eyes usually so deceptively friendly, suddenly turned dark and thunderous.

A warning to be cautious whispered through Jenna. She’d intended to broach the issue delicately, but she’d already botched it in her frustration. And she could see her father had already had a couple of Scotches. It was at times like this, loosened by alcohol, that Harold could get mean, and she’d become a little afraid of him, even though she loved him so much. Because of his power to hurt and reject her.

Because of her own need to be loved.

All those old childish emotions suddenly began twisting into a thorny braid in Jenna’s chest now.

“You saw the notes?” he asked quietly.

“I saw them,” she said. “Why did you hide them, Dad?”

He said nothing.

Anger began to bubble deep in her gut, fueled by her conflicting emotions. Jenna tried to keep her cool, but control was elusive. “Candace died, Dad—she was murdered. And those notes threaten our entire family with the same fate. That includes me. But you didn’t think to let me know, did you? Oh no, the great Harold Rothchild is immune from death threats. Little Jenna doesn’t need to know anything. Just use her to play with the FBI agent and mess up his homicide investigation so it can all be thrown out of court later—”

“Jenna, that’s not—”

“Not true? Why should I believe a thing you say now? I think Lex was right—I think you do want to use me to obfuscate this whole business.” Her heart was racing, moisture now filling her eyes. “Why? Why are you doing this? Why do you not want the police to solve this thing? Why are you putting us all in danger?”

He swung his feet down off the ottoman, took a deep slug of his drink, set it down and glared at her. “What were you doing in my office?”

“Is that all you care about?”

“What—” he repeated, cold and slow “—were you doing in my office?”

“The…door was open and so was the desk drawer—”

He got swiftly to his feet. Even in her four-inch heels, Harold positively towered over Jenna. She instinctively cringed inside but refused to take a step back. “Rebecca Lynn had been in here, Dad. She left the door ajar, and she left that top drawer open with the file sticking out.”

A fleeting unreadable look shadowed his features.

“Rebecca Lynn knew about those death threats, Dad, and she purposefully set me up to see them.” Jenna wasn’t going to mince things now. She wanted to poke at him, about Rebecca Lynn, about everything.

Harold regarded her for a long moment, as if trying to control his rage before he spoke again. Jenna felt Napoleon nudge against her ankles, but she resisted the powerful urge to scoop up her little dog, hold him tight. Instead she met her father’s glare head-on.

“They’re idle threats, Jenna.” He watched her eyes carefully as he spoke. “They’re simply designed to unnerve us. My belief is that someone read in the papers about Candace, the ring, the legendary curse and just wanted to jump in on the whole Rothchild media circus. I will not allow the sender of the notes that pleasure.”

“Is that not a conclusion the FBI should be making?”

“Does this mean you’re going to tell your FBI agent about this?” His voice was ominously quiet.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

He picked up his glass, walked over to his private bar, uncapped his bottle of prized whiskey, poured a glass—neat, no ice—turned back to face her. “Jenna, for all I know, Rebecca Lynn could have left those notes herself.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re having…relationship issues. Rebecca Lynn wants attention. She could have done this to get it. Those notes you saw are clearly different from the first one, and the fact Rebecca Lynn showed them to you would seem to confirm my suspicions. You see? I kept those notes secret, therefore Rebecca Lynn did not get the attention she was seeking, and now she wants you to cause a fuss with me.” He sipped his drink. “She wants to drive a wedge between you and I, sweetheart.”

“So…you didn’t speak to Rebecca Lynn about them at all?”

“No.”

Jenna brushed her hand over her hair, suddenly unsure. “I…I still think this is something for the FBI to decide.”

“Absolutely not. I will not have them messing around in my personal issues. Can you just imagine the media finding out my own wife left me death threats? I don’t want the feds looking into my business dealings, either. Candace’s murder has nothing to do with all that. It’ll just cause trouble.” He paused. “Untold trouble. Look, Jenna, you’re not naive. Some of my dealings, like those with the Schaeffers, were not exactly kosher. An investigation into my private business could bring us all down, the entire Rothchild empire.”