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“The fuck?” That put Eric with Salena when she was still his hostess at the Red Door, so why didn’t he know this? Hugh visited the club often, mostly to network with business contacts, but Eric? Brendan could count on one hand the number of times Eric had been to the Red Door. “Are you saying, Eric had Salena fuck his own father to get to his money?”
Because if that’s what Kodiak was implying, this was all kinds of fucked up.
“Hugh couldn’t get it past half mast, remember?” Jesse winked. “That’s what Matt told us anyway,” he explained.
“Yeah, I seem to recall that conversation.” He wrinkled his nose in distaste, then chuckled. “And I told Matt I did not want to know how he knew that.”
“See?” Kodiak smacked his hands on his thighs and stood. “She just had to pretend to like him. Show him a little attention.” He walked over to where the mini-fridge was and got a bottle of water. Turned around. “So they got all the documentation that apparently led them to the same conclusion, considering Eric’s been called in, plus her financial records, call and chat logs—which connect her to the priest and the senator, by the way.” He looked to the ceiling. “Oh, and Hugh’s medical records. They were a bitch to get ahold of too.”
Should I even ask?
“What was so important about getting those?”
The guy was in a nursing home with some sort of early onset dementia, for fuck’s sake. They’d heard he deteriorated quite rapidly. Didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Brendan couldn’t imagine why Kodiak thought he needed to get his hands on them.
“It didn’t sit right with Taylor,” Jesse explained. “Hugh’s only sixty-two.”
“Not to mention, the timing of his…unfortunate diagnosis.” Kodiak tapped his finger against his temple. “I’m no medical expert so I did a little research. There are drugs that can mimic early onset dementia. Feed him those. Put him in a facility where they’re probably pumping him full of psych meds. Declare him incompetent. Following me?”
“Christ.”
“So”—Kyan came over and hugged him—“I think you’ll be hearing from Phil or Murphy before too long.”
“I hope so.” Brendan chewed his lip. Dare he even begin to hope? “That proves Eric is a nasty piece of shit. Doesn’t make him a murderer, though.”
“No?” Kodiak shrugged. “He all but ended the life of his own father. Regardless, it’s more than what they think they got on you, which is what? A whole lot of nothin’ if you ask me.”
“I don’t think he killed her.”
“Does it matter? The only thing that matters is taking the target off your back, brother.” Kyan gripped his shoulder, squeezing it hard. “We can’t let you get charged with this bullshit. Besides, it’s already done.”
Another week went by without a word.
Brendan still sat on pins and needles, and he would be until they either made an arrest or told him he was cleared, but at this point at least no news wasn’t bad. As much as he feared this could still go horribly wrong, as each day passed that tiny inkling of hope grew. Perhaps one day soon this nightmare would finally be over, and when that day came the first thing he was going to do was see Katelyn.
And bring her home.
For keeps.
He hadn’t seen her, or touched her, or heard her sweet voice in three miserable, hellish weeks. Besides all this shit hanging over his head, Katelyn was all Brendan thought about. How he’d managed to exist before her, he didn’t know, because he wasn’t much more than an empty shell without her now.
His phone signaled a text. Taylor telling him to come over for dinner. He wasn’t all that hungry, but he could use the company and he figured he should probably eat.
Linnea and Chloe were cooking together in the kitchen. Chloe was still angry with him and gave him the cold shoulder. Didn’t she get it? He was hurting too here. Linnea turned from the stove and flung herself at him. At least she was happy to see him.
“Sweetheart,” he crooned, hugging her.
She looked up at him. “How are you, Bren?”
“Hanging in there.” He walked over to Chloe at the island and swatted her behind. “Red.”
Taylor, Jesse, and Kyan had the hockey game going on the big-screen in the family room. Brendan sat down with them to watch it. Maybe he’d get tickets. Take Katelyn to a game. She’d love it. Nobody did hockey better than this town, never mind that the season was pretty much already in the toilet.
At the end of the first period his phone rang. His cousins and Taylor all turned their heads toward the sound.
“It’s Murphy.”
Chloe and Linnea left the kitchen. He picked up the phone, hoping for the best and expecting the worst, but he sure as hell didn’t expect to hear what Murphy called to tell him. He looked at his family, who anxiously waited with bated breath.
