I felt my back teeth grind together. “He tried to have Dovie killed.”

Titus leaned back in the booth and nodded. “I know, but the justice system is more interested in cutting off the stream of guns, drugs, and sex that Novak handled than they are anything else. They want his network connections and suppliers, and the way they get them is to offer deals to people like your dad and Benny to entice them to talk.”

I groaned out loud. “Setting my dad up with a new life is bad enough, but if Bax finds out Benny is getting a deal, he’s going to lose his mind.”

His mouth turned down and a harsh look crossed his face. “I know. That’s why I haven’t told him anything yet. The feds think your mom knows more than she’s saying. They’ve pulled her in twice for questioning.”

“I don’t think she knew. I think she just followed him blindly.”

Titus just stared at me. Fuck me. It was bad enough to think that my dad was capable of killing his own flesh and blood; if my mom had known and just sat idly by . . . my family was such a goddamn mess.

“Either way, my dad doesn’t just get to walk away with no consequences.”

“He does if he cuts a deal.”

I just lifted an eyebrow. “The feds can put him in the system, Titus, but I’ll find him.”

He swore under his breath at me. “Like I said, don’t tell me that shit, especially since I know anything you cook up will involve my boneheaded brother.”

With that I changed the subject, because like I told Brysen the night before, I was tired of the wrong always winning, and my dad was definitely wrong.

“So my girl’s stalker has upped the game. Instead of just trying to physically hurt her, he’s been messing with her life from the inside out. He almost managed to screw with her entire semester, which would’ve screwed with her graduating.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Your girl?”

“Yep, mine.” And she was. She was the perfect bridge between who I was and who I had to be in order to survive, and there was no way I was letting her go when she made getting back to myself so easy and so pleasurable.

“Are you sure she doesn’t have some kind of pissed-off ex or maybe an old friend she screwed over? When a stalker makes the effort to take an object of their obsession’s life apart like that, it’s usually because they are trying to isolate the victim, forcing them to be the only person that the victim can then turn to for support.”

“She swears up one side and down the other that there isn’t anyone from her past that would be this interested in ruining her life.”

He rubbed his thumb along the curve of his jaw and I could practically see his cop wheels turning in his head.

“Whoever it is has a lot of anger built up toward her, whoever is after her clearly sees her as a target, as some kind of important figure in their life. What about the rest of her family? Could the stalker be trying to get to her in order to punish them?”

I blinked once, then twice, and felt dread settle heavy and hard in my abdomen. “Her dad owes me over three hundred grand and her mom is an emotional and drunken mess. There’s all kinds of room in there for someone to be good and pissed at them and taking it out on Brysen.”

He nodded, looking grim.

“Will she let you dig into her family’s dirty laundry to figure it out?”

“She already knows about her dad and the money. She said her mom is looking at getting help. I guess she caused a really bad accident a year ago that killed some guy.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, we both stopped and awareness dawned. I swore and Titus leaned forward in the booth.

“Were there survivors?”

“Yeah. Brysen said the dad was the only one killed.”

“A grieving family is as good a place to start as anywhere. Let me pull the accident report and I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“I appreciate it, Titus.”

“In return, you will pass along any info you get on the mystery man with the accent.”

“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

We both went to slide out of the booth when he stopped me with a heavy hand on one of my shoulders.

“This business with your dad—I would let it go, Race. The worst punishment a guy like him can experience is living in Iowa somewhere, living a middle-class life on an allowance the government gives him. He’ll be no one and have nothing, and that is far worse than death for a man like him.”

I was going to respond that only death was appropriate for a man who was so ready to murder his own child simply to avoid uncomfortable questions, when the front doors to the diner slammed open and a uniformed officer came running inside.