A cold sheen of perspiration chilled my skin. He was bullshitting me and I knew it. I also needed more information. “That is ridiculous,” I proclaimed. “I don’t believe you. My birthday is my birthday: it always has been.”

Parker leaned back in the chair. “You may think it sounds ridiculous, but I can see it in your eyes. You have at least an inkling that I’m right.”

“I’m not fucking signing my life away again on an inkling. I need proof.”

Parker scanned me from breast to head. “Very well, I’ll get you proof.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Stewart knew.”

“Anyone else?”

“Besides your parents, no, not yet,” he declared confidently. “The attorney who created the counterfeit birth certificate is no longer alive. The original and a copy of the forged one were found in the bowels of a storage unit. However, don’t misjudge me. I will share what I know, and when I do, the US government will be the least of your worries.”

I swallowed my disgust. “Parker, I don’t believe you. However, I’ll give you the chance to show me your proof. If what you say is true, it could undoubtedly have far-reaching implications. What can I do to help you see my side of this?”

His eyes glowed as he stared at my breasts. “I can think of a lot of things. Once you sign that contract, you’ll see that I’m much more imaginative than your deceased husband.”

“When can you get me the proof?”

“I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

I nodded. “All right, here tomorrow—”

“No, Victoria. What you’re experiencing right now is called a power switch. You’re no longer the one calling the shots. I personally prefer you blindfolded and mute, but for what I have in mind, it will be more fun if you can see. I think it will help build the anticipation.”

I didn’t reply.

“See how well behaved you can be.” He stood, walked toward me, and caressed my cheek. It took all my self-control to not flinch. “I never expected to receive this opportunity. Ever since I saw you in my office on that fateful morning years ago, I’ve wanted to be the one to give you the instructions, to be in control of your fucking, your coming, and your going. I know from experience that you’ve grown in your expertise over the past nine years. I’m confident that in no time at all, this bargain-basement cock can teach you to be more respectful of your friends.” He fisted my hair and pulled my head back. “Didn’t you enjoy that term: friends? Look at me.”

I did.

“Stewart liked the term friends. I believe you’ll learn that respect I mentioned sooner rather than later. If you don’t, not all of our visitors will be as friendly.”

I waited for the taste of blood as I bit my tongue and listened to his power switch. However, before he could continue, the phone on my desk rang. He didn’t release my hair as we stared, hearing the second and then the third ring. Finally, I asked, “May I answer my phone?”

His slimy grin grew, showing his too-white teeth. “You see,” he said as he released my hair. “You’re a quick learner. Tomorrow, two o’clock, at the warehouse.”

I nodded as I picked up the phone, suddenly thankful for whoever was on the other end. “Yes, Kristina?”

“Mrs. Harrington, there’s an Officer Shepard on the line. He said it was urgent.”

Oh my God. Did they find something out about Stewart’s cause of death?

“Put him through,” I said cautiously as I turned toward Parker, covered the receiver and said, “It’s the police. They said it was urgent.”

“Put them on speakerphone.”

I gave him a puzzled look.

“Hello, Mrs. Harrington…” The voice came through the handset.

Parker whispered near my ear. “Speakerphone, cunt, I’m your attorney. I need to hear.”

I hit the button and said aloud, “Yes, this is Mrs. Harrington.”

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry to bother you at this time.”

“Yes, it is a difficult—”

“Mrs. Harrington, your mother is on her way to Memorial Hospital. I’m sorry to inform you that she was in a serious automobile accident.”

I couldn’t process. I’d been thinking about her ever since our conversation yesterday. I’d been meaning to call her, wanting for the first time to call her. This couldn’t be happening, I asked, “Excuse me, what did you say?”

Parker spoke, “Officer, this is Parker Craven, Mrs. Harrington’s attorney. Can you tell us any more about Mrs. Sound?”

“Sir, Mrs. Sound is on her way to the trauma center at Memorial Hospital. I recommend that Mrs. Harrington go there immediately.”

“Thank you, officer. We’ll leave immediately,” Parker replied.

“Mrs. Harrington, you should know that we did a field sobriety test. Your mother’s blood alcohol content was .38 percent. Thankfully, no one else was involved in the accident.”

Covering my mouth, I gasped. “No, officer, that isn’t possible. My mother is a recovering alcoholic. She hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in almost twenty years.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry. She did today. Please get to Memorial.”

It wasn’t even eleven in the morning. This wasn’t right. Why would Marilyn decide to go on a binge early in the morning? She wouldn’t. I knew that.