Chapter 15 - 19
Avara POV
I climb out of the cab, closing the door behind me.
My eyes skim down the run-down neighborhood with busted street lights and litter carpeting the sidewalks. I step onto the tarmac and walk the derelict path to the weather-worn front porch. The Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 demands my attention with white racing stripes on the hood. At least now I know that someone is home. I go up the short flight and I knock on the door.
After a long while, the door whips open. The man has long hair that’s tied into a mid-height bun, with a cigarette sticking out of the corner of his mouth. He scans me thoroughly, his expression melding with surprise and irritation.
"Can I help you, ma’am?"
"Perhaps you can?" I take off my sunglasses, propping them on top of my head as I lower the scarf to my neck.
He bristles in the doorway. "Miss Du Pont... Avara Du Pont?" He slants forward to cast furtive looks around us. "What are you doing here? And how the hell do you know where I live?"
"Mutual friend. I’m here because I know you were the lead investigator on the cases looking into my father."
His brows collide, his expression turning hostile, holding onto the door like he’s ready to slam it in my face. "I was," he corrects. "Just like I was a detective, one of the many things your father took from me. How do you even know about that? None of those cases made it to trial and the charges never stuck."
"Friends in high places." Another vague utterance.
"Then what?" He takes out the unlit cigarette to point it at me. "Are you here because I came after your daddy?"
I maintain my calm. My gaze lowers to the dust-coated floor. "Yes. But not for the reasons you think. You believed that he was working with a crime syndicate, yes?"