Twisted Palace (12 page)

Embittered, I study Steve’s expression. “Do you really believe I did?”

After a beat, he squeezes my shoulder—hard. “No, of course not. But I’m thinking about Ella. I’m trying to put her first.” Those vivid blue eyes, the ones that Ella has, stare at me in challenge. “Can you honestly say you’re doing the same?”

“
Y
ou know
, the reason why there’s no floor thirteen is because a large number of patrons are secretly superstitious. Hallow Oaks is rumored to be built over an old Confederate cemetery. There might be ghosts here.”

Like the ghost of your dead body
, I think sourly.

Steve waves the keycard in front of a sensor and punches the “P” button. He’s all smiles now, as if he didn’t just drag me out of my home and to this stupid hotel.

“So you’re not going to talk to me?” Steve asks.

I stare straight ahead. I’m not making chitchat with this guy. He thinks he can waltz into my life after seventeen years and order me around?
Welcome to parenthood, Steve. You’re in for a bumpy ride.

“Ella, you can’t honestly believe I’d allow you to continue living with the Royals with your boyfriend down the hall.”

It’s probably childish, but I continue to give Steve the silent treatment. Besides, if I open my mouth, something bad’s going to come out. Such as,
Where the hell were you when my mom was dying of cancer? Oh, that’s right, you were hang-gliding with your evil wife
.

He sighs, and we finish the ride up to the penthouse in silence. The doors open into a wide hallway. Steve leads me down the hall, rolling my suitcase behind him. He presses the keycard against the door at the end of the hall.

Inside, I find a living room, a dining room, and a set of stairs. I’ve spent my share of time in crappy, low-budget hotel rooms, and the stairs have never been
inside
a room before. I try not to gawk, but it’s hard.

Steve picks up a leather pad from the table. “Before I show you your room, why don’t you have a look? We’ll order room service while you get settled.”

“We just ate an hour ago,” I remind him in disbelief.

He shrugs. “I’m hungry again. Should I order a salad for you, Dinah?” he yells.

Dinah appears at the top of the stairs. “That’d be fine.”

“Why don’t you call this in while I show Ella around?” He waves the menu and then sets it back on the table. Without waiting for an answer, he places a hand on my back and pushes me forward. “I’ll take the T-bone. Rare, please.”

Past the dining room is another door. Steve opens it and gestures for me to come inside. “This is your room. It has an exterior door that leads to the hall. You’ll need your key to get up to this floor.” He holds out a plastic card, which I reluctantly pocket. “There’s daily maid service and twenty-four-hour room service. Feel free to order whatever you like. I can afford it.” He winks. I’m too busy looking around to respond. “Do you want someone up here to unpack for you?” he continues. “Dinah can help you if you’d like.”

Dinah would probably rather drink a bottle of bleach than help me.

I muster up a, “No, thank you,” which generates another big smile from Steve. He apparently thinks we’re getting along swimmingly. I’m wondering if I can get the front desk to create a new keycard for Reed. Exterior door? Maybe I won’t hate it here.

“All right. If you need anything, just holler. We’re in tight quarters here, I know, but it’ll only be a couple of weeks.” He taps the top of the suitcase before leaving.

Tight quarters? Granted, the room is smaller than my bedroom at the Royals’, but it’s still larger than any place I’ve ever lived before. Definitely larger than any hotel room I’ve ever stayed in. I didn’t even realize they made hotel rooms this large.

Ignoring my suitcase, I throw myself on the bed and text Reed.

I have an exterior door.

He texts back immediately.
I’m on my way.

I wish.

I can b…

Steve wld lose it.

Don’t kno whts up his ass. He’s had more women than a rock star.

That’s a lovely thought. Pls stop with the ur dad is a dog comments. It really grosses me out.

Kk. Virgin. How is everything else?

I’m a virgin bc u won’t give it up.

I will, baby. U kno I’m dying 2. Wait till this is all cleared up.

I’m not visiting u in prison. BTW.

Not going to prison.

Whatevr. What ru doing?

In response, I get a picture of him and his brothers sitting in my bedroom.

Why?

Why what? Why r we in ur room? Game’s on.

U have a media room.

We like it here. Besides, E says ur room is full of good luck.

I groan. Easton has gambling issues. A bookie once attacked us outside a club and I had to pay him off.

E betting on anything?

If he is, he’s winning bc he’s not shitting a brick over the score. I’ll watch ovr ur little East, don’t u worry.

Ha. Thanks. I miss every1.

A knock sounds at the door.

“Yeah?” I’m not happy at the interruption and make no effort to keep the irritation out of my voice.

“It’s Dinah,” comes the equally irritated response. “We’re ready to eat.”

“I’m not eating,” I call back.

She laughs cruelly from behind the door. “As you shouldn’t. You could stand to lose a few pounds. But your
father
has requested your presence, Princess.”

I clench my teeth. “Fine. I’ll be right out.”

Gotta go. Eating with Dinah & S.
8-)

I
push
the suitcase out of the way and walk into the living room. A uniformed man is rolling a cart inside. While he carefully places everything on the large dining room table, Steve takes a seat at the head.

“Sit. Sit.” He waves a hand, completely ignoring the nice man who is removing the silver domes from the plates. “I ordered you a burger, Ella.” He sighs when I don’t answer. “Fine, don’t eat it, then. But I ordered it in case you’d changed your mind.”

The server lifts a silver dome off my plate to reveal a huge burger on a bed of lettuce. I give him an awkward smile and say, “Thanks,” because he doesn’t deserve my rudeness. It’s useless, though, because he doesn’t look at me at all.

With a sigh of my own, I sit down. Dinah takes a chair on the opposite side of the table.

“This is nice,” Steve announces. He snaps a napkin and drapes it across his lap. “Oh hell. I forgot my drink over on the coffee table. Will you get that for me, Dinah?”

She rises immediately, grabs the glass, and brings it over to Steve.

He kisses her cheek. “Thank you, darling.”

“Of course.” She resettles herself in her chair.

I force my gaze to my plate so no one can see the astonishment. This is a completely different Dinah than the one I met before. Heck, it’s a different Dinah than the one who just summoned me to dinner.

I’ve only had two other encounters with her, and both of them were not good. She was confrontational at the will reading. And then, at Callum’s house, I caught her having sex with Gideon in the bathroom.

Tonight, Dinah is quiet, almost shy, and it’s like watching a coiled snake hiding under a big banana leaf.

Oblivious, Steve takes a sip. “It’s warm.”

There’s a long moment of silence. When I drag my eyes away from the table, I see Steve staring pointedly at Dinah.

She smiles thinly. “Let me get you some ice.”

“Thanks, dear.” He turns to me. “Would you like some water?”

The interplay between these two is so weird that I forget I’m supposed to be giving him the silent treatment. “Sure.”

Rather than pour it himself, he calls out toward the kitchen area. “Dinah, bring Ella a glass of water.” Then he begins cutting into his steak. “I spoke with the DA’s office this morning. We should be able to take possession of the apartment soon. That’ll be nice for all of us.”

I’m pretty sure it will be nice for
none
of us.

Dinah returns with two glasses—one full of ice, one full of water. She sets the water glass in front of me with enough force that some of the liquid splashes over the rim and soaks my sleeve.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that, Princess,” she says sweetly.

Steve frowns.

“No prob,” I mutter.

Steve drops a couple of ice cubes into his drink, swirls it around, and then takes a sip. Dinah has just picked up her fork when Steve makes a face. “Too watery,” he states.

She hesitates, her fingers growing white around the fork handle. I wonder if she’s going to stab Steve with it, but instead she sets it down in a slow, deliberate fashion. Pasting a smile on her face, she rises from the table for the third time and makes her way to the bar, where big bottles are lined up like little soldiers in a row.

At this rate, I might start drinking from them.

“Ella, I spoke with your headmaster today,” Steve tells me.

I tear my eyes away from Dinah’s stiff back. “Why would you do that?”

“I just wanted to check on your progress at Astor Park. Beringer informed me that you have no extracurricular activities.” He slants his head. “You mentioned you like dancing. Why not the school dance team?”

“I, ah, I was working at the time.” I don’t feel like getting into my feud with Jordan. It sounds stupid saying it out loud.

“Then perhaps the school newspaper?”

I try not to grimace. Writing articles sounds more painful than sitting here at dinner. Actually, I take that back. This dinner is so uncomfortable that I’d rather be sparring with Jordan Carrington, so the school newspaper would be a welcome distraction.

“What did you do as electives?” I counter. Maybe if I can get him to admit he was a slacker in high school, he’ll ease up a little.

“I played football, basketball, and baseball.”

Great. One of those.

But hadn’t Callum implied that Steve wasn’t interested in running a business and preferred just having fun? Why can’t he let me enjoy myself?

“Maybe I’ll try out for the, um…” I think frantically of some girl sport—“soccer team.”

Steve smiles encouragingly. “That would be good. We can talk to Beringer about it.”

Ugh. I guess I can try out for it, and when they see how terrible I am, they’ll kick me off the grounds and ask me to never return. It’s not a bad plan, actually.

I pick up my burger and take a bite, even though I’m not at all hungry. But it gives me something to do with my hands, and it keeps my mouth full so I don’t have to make any more conversation.

As I chew, I think strategy for the best way to get around Steve. I need to pretend like I’m meeting his demands while actually doing whatever the hell I want—hanging out with Val, fooling around with Reed, and having fun with East and the twins. Besides, watching out for Reed and Easton is a full-time job. In the meantime, I can hunt down possible suspects. I think I might be the only one interested in finding the real criminal.

By the time I’ve arranged this perfectly in my head, Dinah returns with Steve’s latest drink.

“What did
you
do in high school?” I ask her, trying to be polite.

“I worked two jobs to support my family.” She smiles. “Neither of which required me to take off my clothes.”

I cough mid-sip.

Steve frowns again.

“Did you know that Ella was stripping when Callum found her?” Dinah asks her husband. Her tone is sweeter than sugar. “How unfortunate.”

“As I recall, you’ve never had any problems taking your clothes off in public,” he answers cheerfully. “And nobody had to pay you to do it.”

That shuts her up.

The hotel phone rings. Steve ignores it, and it rings and rings until finally Dinah gets up to answer. His gaze follows her all the way into the living room. When she turns her back on us, Steve shifts his attention to me.

“You think I’m being mean to her, don’t you?” he murmurs.

Faced with a choice between lying or finding out what the hell is going on, I opt for truth. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Well, try not to feel bad for her.” He shrugs. “I think she intentionally messed with my equipment and tried to kill me.”

My mouth drops open. Speechless, I watch as he slices into his steak and takes a huge bite.

After swallowing, he wipes his mouth and continues. “I can’t prove it with the guide missing, but I can torment her. Don’t worry. You’re safe, Ella. It’s me she can’t stand.”

Wrong. I still remember the threats she hurled at me when she found out I was heir to Steve’s fortune. Besides, I’ve seen Discovery Channel specials on snakes. They’re the most dangerous when they feel threatened, but I doubt Steve’s going to listen to any of my warnings. He’s going to do whatever it is he wants.

But now I have Dinah soaring to the top of my suspect list. Maybe moving in with them is a good idea. I can find not only Gideon’s stuff, but evidence that she killed Brooke.

Then common sense takes over. If the police, not to mention Callum’s investigators, couldn’t find anything that pointed to someone other than Reed, how am I supposed to?

Despondently, I shove the lettuce around my plate. “I don’t think you should poke a bear. Why don’t you just divorce her and move on?”

“Because Dinah always has a plan up her sleeve, and I want to see what it is. Besides, I don’t have proof.” He reaches out a hand to touch mine. “And maybe it’s foolish of me to bring you into this mess, but you’re my daughter and I don’t want to miss another day of your life. I’ve missed too many before. I know you don’t like the decisions I’m making. And hell, maybe they’re all wrong. In my defense, I’ve never had a daughter before. Will you at least give me a chance?”

I sigh. It’s pretty hard to be a bitch in the face of that.

“I’ll try,” I tell him.

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.” He squeezes my hand before drawing back and resuming eating. A moment later, Dinah joins us at the table again.

“It was the furniture store. The police aren’t allowing them to deliver the new bed you ordered.” Dinah’s face is red and she sounds like she’s choking on something.

Steve leans toward me with a feral smile. “Dinah was using our current bed to screw someone who isn’t her husband, so I’m having it replaced.”

Wow.

Just…
wow
.

He turns toward his wife. “Have the building store it, then, until we all move in.”