pay rent here?”
“No.”
“So who does?”
Loki’s shoulders dropped, and he stared into the fire. “I have some investments . . . ”
“Might some folks call those investments ‘child support’?”
Loki shot a look at Perry out of the corner of his eye, then turned to stare into the flames. Busted—again—he didn’t even try to argue.
For a few moments, the only sounds were the crackle and pop of the wood. A log rolled off the top, and Loki picked up a poker and shoved it back away from the screen.
When he sat down, he dropped his head into his hands. “Having to call Julia last week and tell her that I’d basically lost our daughter was one of the worst days of my life.” When he finally met Perry’s gaze, his face was haggard. “Look, I know I wasn’t the best dad, but I wasn’t the worst, either. I may have been a little too permissive. But one thing I can say for sure: Angel always knew I loved her, which was a lot more than Julia—” Loki stopped abruptly.
“So there never was any love lost between those two?”
Loki pressed his lips together. “Honestly, I don’t know. The dynamic between mothers and daughters . . . it’s always complicated, isn’t it? You have kids?”
“I do. But my daughter isn’t about to inherit a fortune.”
Loki’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
Perry studied him for a long moment. “You don’t know that Angel gets access to a sizable trust fund on her twenty-first birthday?”
Loki sat forward. “This is the first I’ve ever heard of it.”
Perry’s bullshit meter was ringing again, though he wasn’t sure why the man would bother to lie. Maybe he was pretending to be shocked so no one would think he’d been Mr. Cool, Permissive Dad all those years in order to curry favor with his soon-to-be-stinkin’-rich daughter. Or, on a more sinister note, maybe there was something in it for Norman Loki if Angel didn’t claim her share of the inheritance. Perry was going to have to drill down on the exact terms of that trustfund. Loki’s reaction didn’t ring true. It seemed a little . . . forced, over the top. Perry waited, hoping silence would lure him into saying something he’d regret. Frequently, silence was the best interrogator. But after several moments went by without a word, Perry was forced to concede it wasn’t working this time.
Perry replied, “That’s actually part of the reason Julia wants Angel to be found right away. Angel has to sign the papers on her twenty-first birthday to get that money.”
Loki broke into a laugh. And not a little chuckle, either. A big, hefty, belly shaking, “Ha-ha-ha.”
“I take it you don’t believe that,” Perry said. “According to Julia, she doesn’t need Angel’s share of the money.”
When his laughter had scaled down to a few stray chortles, Loki responded. “Oh, no doubt that’s true. Julia’s got more money than the Vatican. I just find it difficult to believe in this sudden . . . well, never mind.”
Perry didn’t want to never mind, but Loki had made it clear he wouldn’t share any more than he had to about his ex-wife. His protective attitude toward her was puzzling . . . or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just a wise decision not to bite the hand that fed him. And was probably still feeding him.
“I’ll need Angel’s cell phone number—” Perry said.
“Of course. I’ll write it down for you.” Loki stood.
“And while you’re at it, I’ll need Lilith’s information, too.”
Loki nodded. “Good idea.” Loki went over to a small writing desk against the wall, wrote down the information.
He gave Perry the piece of paper, then held out his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Christo—”
Perry shook his hand. “Call me Perry.”
“Perry. Whatever you may think of . . . all this, I am extremely worried about Angel.”
At that moment, the doorbell chimed its absurd little tune. “That’ll be my trainer.” Loki retrieved Perry’s coat from the couch
“No.”
“So who does?”
Loki’s shoulders dropped, and he stared into the fire. “I have some investments . . . ”
“Might some folks call those investments ‘child support’?”
Loki shot a look at Perry out of the corner of his eye, then turned to stare into the flames. Busted—again—he didn’t even try to argue.
For a few moments, the only sounds were the crackle and pop of the wood. A log rolled off the top, and Loki picked up a poker and shoved it back away from the screen.
When he sat down, he dropped his head into his hands. “Having to call Julia last week and tell her that I’d basically lost our daughter was one of the worst days of my life.” When he finally met Perry’s gaze, his face was haggard. “Look, I know I wasn’t the best dad, but I wasn’t the worst, either. I may have been a little too permissive. But one thing I can say for sure: Angel always knew I loved her, which was a lot more than Julia—” Loki stopped abruptly.
“So there never was any love lost between those two?”
Loki pressed his lips together. “Honestly, I don’t know. The dynamic between mothers and daughters . . . it’s always complicated, isn’t it? You have kids?”
“I do. But my daughter isn’t about to inherit a fortune.”
Loki’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
Perry studied him for a long moment. “You don’t know that Angel gets access to a sizable trust fund on her twenty-first birthday?”
Loki sat forward. “This is the first I’ve ever heard of it.”
Perry’s bullshit meter was ringing again, though he wasn’t sure why the man would bother to lie. Maybe he was pretending to be shocked so no one would think he’d been Mr. Cool, Permissive Dad all those years in order to curry favor with his soon-to-be-stinkin’-rich daughter. Or, on a more sinister note, maybe there was something in it for Norman Loki if Angel didn’t claim her share of the inheritance. Perry was going to have to drill down on the exact terms of that trustfund. Loki’s reaction didn’t ring true. It seemed a little . . . forced, over the top. Perry waited, hoping silence would lure him into saying something he’d regret. Frequently, silence was the best interrogator. But after several moments went by without a word, Perry was forced to concede it wasn’t working this time.
Perry replied, “That’s actually part of the reason Julia wants Angel to be found right away. Angel has to sign the papers on her twenty-first birthday to get that money.”
Loki broke into a laugh. And not a little chuckle, either. A big, hefty, belly shaking, “Ha-ha-ha.”
“I take it you don’t believe that,” Perry said. “According to Julia, she doesn’t need Angel’s share of the money.”
When his laughter had scaled down to a few stray chortles, Loki responded. “Oh, no doubt that’s true. Julia’s got more money than the Vatican. I just find it difficult to believe in this sudden . . . well, never mind.”
Perry didn’t want to never mind, but Loki had made it clear he wouldn’t share any more than he had to about his ex-wife. His protective attitude toward her was puzzling . . . or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just a wise decision not to bite the hand that fed him. And was probably still feeding him.
“I’ll need Angel’s cell phone number—” Perry said.
“Of course. I’ll write it down for you.” Loki stood.
“And while you’re at it, I’ll need Lilith’s information, too.”
Loki nodded. “Good idea.” Loki went over to a small writing desk against the wall, wrote down the information.
He gave Perry the piece of paper, then held out his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Christo—”
Perry shook his hand. “Call me Perry.”
“Perry. Whatever you may think of . . . all this, I am extremely worried about Angel.”
At that moment, the doorbell chimed its absurd little tune. “That’ll be my trainer.” Loki retrieved Perry’s coat from the couch
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