He wrestled with the idea. He’d only do it once, and for a strong reason. Didn’t that count as a gray area?
“Yeah.” She sat up on his bed, covering her body with a sheet. “I sent some pictures to Jackie and asked her to start the promotional material. You have the contacts, right?”
He swallowed. Yes, he knew far too many rich women who would be perfect for this venture. He hadn’t expected to use them, or shit, he’d hoped to be further along by now. To have a good lead about what had happened to his sister. He’d even searched Alexa’s room earlier that day, to grab her USB and make a copy of it. His shoulders tightened, a knot forming in his back. Shit. Why did it feel so wrong? His goal hadn’t changed. “Yes. I can contact them.”
“I want the list as well. I need to know who you’re inviting for the auction and be on top of things.”
“Of course.”
His father would have a heart attack when he found out his son was promoting a virgin auction. Who cared? His father had been a bad example of parenting, choosing to get rid of a problem instead of owning up to it. Maybe if he had been more present, Pamela would have had a better life, with more support, and would still be alive today.
She slid out of bed, completely naked, heading over to him. “Can I borrow a shirt?”
“No,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
She chuckled, withdrawing from his hold and splaying her fingers on his bare chest, pushing him away. “Now that we’ve found an auctionee, that’s when the real work begins. I’m leaving today, remember? Gotta get ready.”
Of course he remembered… She’d been at his ranch for three nights, and somehow it seemed longer. “Right ahead,” he said, gesturing to his walk-in closet and watching her ass sway as she sauntered.
His internal temperature rose and he inhaled, tapping his fingers on the waistline of his jeans. He’d sent her real name to a private detective, to find out if there was more about her that could be a link to Pamela’s disappearance. Had she worked as a madam before at a different location? Had any of her clients or other auctionees ever disappeared?
Pacing his room, he jammed his hands into his pockets. With her leaving Texas, he had time to study whatever information his investigator gave him. Then, he’d head to Vegas, to continue a much closer investigation of Alexa. Only when all his resources were tapped out would he tell her about his intentions—also only when he had a good strategy to make her talk. He couldn’t blackmail her on the fact she fled her home state because of an abusive relative. But there had to be a slip—
“Why are you with one of my former auctionees?” Alexa’s voice yanked him from his thoughts. A pang of impatience laced her tone, and he turned to face her. Wearing one of his blue long-sleeved shirts, she lifted a framed picture of him and Pamela.
His blood chilled in his veins, and every part of him went rigid and lifeless for a moment. Then, a heat of shame, of guilt, of regret melted the chill and caused an uncomfortable stir in his body. Holy fuck. He’d asked Gina to put any pictures of him and Pamela away, and she’d told him she placed them in his closet. He’d never asked exactly where. Hadn’t seemed important…until now. “Alexa.”
She squared her shoulders, her glacial gaze making him wish he wore a shirt. Or better yet, a winter coat to shield him from the cold oozing from her. “How do you know her?”
His gut clenched as if she’d sucker punched him, but he managed to stay upright, his spine locked into place. He weighed his options, ideas running through his brain. He could tell her she’d been an old girlfriend, a former flame whose picture he’d kept for the sake of memories. But Alexa was way too smart to fall for that kind of bullshit. “My sister,” he said, his voice clear and unapologetic.
“Your sister,” she repeated, “wanted to be auctioned? Why?” She furrowed her brows and glided her fingers down the glass of the frame.
He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling loudly. The same question he’d been asking himself all along. “My father treated her like shit. She was the housekeeper’s daughter. I didn’t find out she was my half sister until I was away in college.”
“What did you do for her?”
“I paid for her college, and I set her up in an apartment,” he said, remembering how his father had given Pamela’s mother a good amount of money to keep the story under wraps, but she’d invested in a home and hadn’t spared a cent for her daughter. Pamela, too proud, had never wanted to take her biological father to court and demand to be included in his will, or even get some compensation for all the years he hadn’t provided for her.
“So altruistic,” she said sarcastically. She put the frame on the nightstand, without taking her eyes off his as if she pointed a gun at his chest and could shoot at any moment.
A nagging sensation clogged his throat, and he touched his neck, confused and pissed off. “I loved her,” he finally said, the words almost as sad as his emotions.
“What happened?”
He grabbed a shirt from the chair and slipped it on. “After I left for college, things changed. I was busy for a while, and that’s when she found out and she never forgave me for not being there for her.” He’d been too worried about making his own money, about diving head-first into the entrepreneurial side of agriculture, to call her back as often as he should have. No wonder she resented him for having a privileged life for so long—even after she’d discovered she was entitled to the same lifestyle as he, she’d never had it.
“But you said—”
He swallowed the lump of frustration constricting his throat. “I paid for her college, but she never finished. She had…anxiety and her own set of problems.”
“She resented you for being the official heir, while she never had a father.” Alexa shortened the distance between them, her delicate features set into a hard line. The main vein on her neck jumped. “What happened to her?”
He stretched to his full height. “I was hoping you’d help me figure that out. She was found dead in a car accident, not long after she entered your place of business.”
“What?” She drew back, folding her arms. A glimmer of disbelief hit her eyes. “She was chosen for the auction, yes, but Pamela never made it. We had to call someone else in to replace her at the last minute.”
“Impossible. I saw pictures of her entering the building on auction night. She was never seen afterward,” he said, remembering he’d bribed the janitor from the storage unit across the street to get screenshots of the surveillance camera footage.
“Maybe she had a change of heart and left.”
He shook his head. Why would she go to the auction location just to give up? Didn’t make any sense. If she wanted to give up, she could simply not go or call Alexa. Going there in person would only make things awkward for everyone. “Did you try to contact her?”