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“What’s this all about?” His cold blue gaze settled on Kellan. “I’m guessin’ you ain’t here to ask about my trip.”
Hope you had a real good time in Vegas, ’cause you won’t be playin’ poker again anytime soon.
“No, Pops.” He lowered himself to sit on the arm of the sofa. “I’m sure you heard a man broke in at the ranch some weeks ago.”
“Yeah, I recall Maizie mentioned it.” He leaned back against a bookcase, and crossing his feet in front of him, lit a cigar. “Think the girl musta imagined it, though.”
That so?
Pursing his lips with a nod, Kellan shrugged. “Well then, my wife must’ve imagined it twice.”
“C’mon, boy. Use your damn noggin.” Seemingly annoyed, Jacoby waved a hand through the smoke. “This is Brookside we’re livin’ in, not Denver.”
“We found a set of footprints leading to the stream,” Victor added, casually moving toward the center of the room.
“So?”
“We were hopin’ maybe you seen something, Pops. That’s all.”
Tanner was the one hoping. He’d idolized their grandfather his entire life. To know what John Jacoby had done, what he’d tried to do, had hit him the hardest of them all.
“Nope, ain’t seen nothin’ or no one.” He set his cigar down in the ashtray. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tipped his chin. “Maybe it was your daddy here. Ever think of that?”
“Christ, that’s absurd,” Matthew objected.
“It ain’t.” Jacoby half turned in the man’s direction, a twisted grin contorting his face. “Wouldn’t put it past you to sneak back into your own damn house. Get your dick into the girl. Everyone knows you’re weak for a young blonde with a tight cunt.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Moving fast, Kellan stood toe to toe with his grandfather.
“Well, he is, boy. You should know,” he said with a wink. Then looking up at the ceiling, he chuckled. “Course, there was a rumor…” His gaze went to Victor and he smirked. “…ah, never mind.”
“Enough with this bullshit.” Kellan went to the bookshelf, retrieving the plastic bag containing the empty vials and syringes from its hiding place inside a box of photos. They’d discovered it while searching his house the other night. He tossed the bag onto the coffee table. “Why’d you do it?”
“Do what?” The smirk never left his face.
“Murder my mother.”
“I did no such thing.” His head slowly moved from side to side. “I could never hurt my sweet, darling girl. Your daddy’s the one to blame.”
“You lying bastard.” If looks could kill, his grandfather would be dead, Matthew’s expression murderous.
“Not lyin’. It’s all his fault. See, he was partial to my Amanda. Always showerin’ affection on her. Can’t say I blame him for that. She was so easy to love.” Thinking of his daughter, John tilted his head to one side, his wistful smile almost eerie. And then it was gone. “He didn’t do right by her sister, though. Coulda tried harder.”
“What are you sayin’, man?” Holding onto Matthew’s wrist, Victor took another step closer.
“He didn’t love my Heather.”
“I did love her.”
“Had a funny way of showin’ it.” With a roll of his eyes, he picked up the cigar. “Givin’ her younger sister a baby before her.”
The fuck?
“What? Are you hearin’ yourself, Pops?” Habit. Kellan hadn’t meant to call him that. He no longer deserved the endearment.
Jacoby shrugged. “It didn’t sit right with her, I reckon. Your daddy and everyone fussin’ over Amanda. Leavin’ her out.”
“Heather wasn’t left out of nothin’.”
