What Are You Afraid Of? (The Agency #2)(33)

“I assume your real name is Carmen?” he asked. There was no use in demanding to know why she was reluctant to go home.

Carmen would tell him when she was ready. And not a second before.

“Yes,” she said. “My mother was an amateur opera singer who loved Bizet’s Carmen. She was determined to name her first daughter after the opera.” There was a brief hesitation before she continued. “My father agreed with the understanding that I would be called Carrie.”

“He wasn’t an opera fan?”

“Actually, that’s how they met,” she said, her voice strained. “His parents were sponsors of a small community theater and my mother was performing. I remember my father telling me that it was love at first sight.”

“So why Carrie?”

“My father thought Carmen made me sound too adult. He wanted me to stay his little princess.”

“It sounds like he loved you very much,” he said in low tones.

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “Not hardly. My father didn’t know how to love.”

Griff resisted the urge to tell her that she wasn’t the only one with a father who didn’t know squat about loving a child.

Right now this was about Carmen and who might be tormenting her.

“Tell me about your family.”

There was a rustle of fabric as Carmen wiggled out of her coat. He heard a hiss of pain as the movement jostled the wound on her upper arm. Anger flared through him. When he found the bastard responsible for attacking her, he intended to make sure there was some serious payback before he was handed over to the authorities.

“My grandmother died when I was twenty and my grandfather passed two years ago,” she said as she settled back in her seat.

“They weren’t your only family, were they?”

He risked a quick glance to catch her momentary confusion.

“Oh,” she at last said. “My father has a younger brother, my uncle Lawrence.”

It was obvious she didn’t consider the relatives on her father’s side as part of her family.

Not surprising after what had happened.

“What do you know about him?”

He could sense her confusion. “You can’t imagine that he’s involved.”

“Humor me,” Griff said. He didn’t know if he suspected an actual member of her family or not. He just needed a place to start. “Is he your father’s only sibling?”

“Yes. My father was a few years older, so when his parents were killed in a plane crash, he became Lawrence’s guardian until he was old enough to go to college.”

“They were close?” Griff asked.

“I think so,” she said, the words hesitant, as if she’d never given thought to her uncle or his connection to her father. “They inherited my grandparents’ business and ran it together.”

“What sort of business?”

“A chain of hardware stores,” she said. “There were several of them spread across the state of Kentucky.”

Griff nodded. He’d known that her parents had been wealthy. The fact that they’d been a part of the elite Louisville society had made their deaths all the more scandalous. But he hadn’t known how they’d made their money.

“The brothers were equal partners?” he demanded.

“I guess.” She drummed her fingers on the console that separated the bucket seats. A visible indication of her discomfort. “My father took care of the finances. I’m not sure exactly what my uncle did, but he traveled a lot. My cousins used to come stay with us when he was out of town.”

Griff ’s interest in Lawrence Jacobs went up several notches.

“Did your cousins stay with you because his wife traveled with him?”

She gave a firm shake of her head. “No. My aunt Viola was . . .” Her words trailed away as she dredged up ancient memories. “I think my mother used to say ‘delicate.’ I’m not sure what that meant, but she didn’t want to take care of Matthew and Baylor when my uncle was gone.”

“Two boys?”

“Yes.”

Another spike of interest. “Younger than you?”

“No, both of them were older.” She paused to consider. “I think Matthew is five or six years older and Baylor around four,” she finally said. “Lawrence married right out of college. My dad was a confirmed bachelor until he met my mother. She was ten years younger than him.”

“Is your uncle still in Louisville?”

“I lost track of them after—” She bit off her words, clearing her throat before she continued. “After I moved in with my grandparents.”

Griff frowned. He needed to make sure he understood the situation.

“You haven’t had any contact at all?”

“No.”

“What about your inheritance?”

“What inheritance?”

Her tone was genuinely baffled. Hadn’t she been the least curious about the fortune that should have been hers?

“Do you know what happened to your parents’ property?” he pressed. “Or the money from the business?”

He heard her shifting in her seat, as if she was increasingly agitated by his questions.

“My grandparents refused to discuss anything to do with my father or his family.”