10. Theo
10
Theo
A knock at the door pulls me from the couch, where I’ve been since I got home from work. I’m not expecting anyone, and it’s late enough that whoever it is better have a damn good reason for showing up unannounced.
Swinging the door open I’m met with the sight of Bennett. He’s standing there without a care in the world like he isn’t interrupting my nightly doom scrolling. In one hand he has a pizza box, the other a six-pack of beer. He lifts the pizza box slightly, with a small, almost hesitant smile forming on his face. “I’m hoping you haven’t eaten yet.”
The smell of cheese, grease, and perfectly crisped crust drifts toward me, triggering a pang of hunger I hadn’t even noticed before. Still, suspicion lingers. “And what, you’re my personal delivery guy now?”
“Can we call it an olive branch?” His tone is casual, but there’s a guardedness to it.
Arms crossing over my chest, I lean against the doorframe, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make a point. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. Just beer and pizza. Thought we could talk. Maybe get to know one another.”
The easy answer throws me off more than anything else. Guys like Bennett don’t just show up without an agenda. Then again, guys like Bennett don’t exist in my world—not until recently, anyway.
Another waft of pizza hits me, and my stomach betrays me with a quiet growl. With a sigh, I step back and gesture for him to come in. “I hope you at least had the sense to get it from Tony’s.”
“Obviously.” He nudges the door shut behind him, dropping the pizza on the coffee table before setting the beer beside it. “What kind of asshole would I be if I showed up with anything else?”
A reluctant snort escapes as I grab plates from the kitchen. By the time I return, a cold can is already flying toward me. Monkeynaut. The label stares back at me, unfamiliar.
“Monkeynaut?” The name alone is enough to make me skeptical.
“Best damn beer from where I grew up.” A cap pops, and Bennett takes a swig like he’s just cracked open a piece of home.
One sip in, and I have to admit—it’s not bad. Hoppier than I usually go for, but smooth.
“Not bad.”
“Not bad?” Bennett scoffs. “That’s top-tier beer, cousin.”
The word lingers between us, heavier than it should be. Family. Blood. A reality I haven’t fully wrapped my head around yet.
Tipping the can toward him, I arch a brow. “So that’s what this is? This is your way to bribe me with pizza and beer to get me to call you cousin?”
Bennett shrugs, taking another sip before shrugging. “If that’s what it takes.”
I shake my head, but I don’t argue. We eat in silence for a bit, and it’s not as awkward as I expected. Maybe it’s the beer, maybe it’s the fact that I was hungry, but I don’t feel the need to fill the space with small talk. Either way, the usual tension between us feels… muted.
After a while, Bennett wipes his hands on a napkin, staring at the beer bottle in his grip. “I know this whole thing is weird. Trust me, it’s weird for me, too.”
The honesty in his voice makes me glance over. “Yeah?”
A slow nod. “I spent my whole life thinking my adoptive parents were my biological ones. They always talked about how hard it was for them to have me. Made me feel like some miracle baby or whatever.” His fingers drum against the bottle. “Neither of them came from a big family. My cousins were all older, and they never really gave a shit about me. Guess I know why now.”
The bitterness in his voice is hard to miss.
“That’s… messed up.” No other way to put it.
A dry chuckle escapes him. “Yeah, well. Can’t say I’m shocked. If they always knew I wasn’t theirs—if that mattered to them—then maybe that’s why they kept their distance.” A pause. Then, quieter, “So, finding out I’ve got another cousin? Someone my age? Someone related to me?” He exhales, rubbing his jaw. “Should be a good thing, right?”
A pit forms in my stomach. I know where this is going.
“But I get here, and you’re not exactly thrilled about it.”
A sigh pushes past my lips as I set my plate down. “It’s not that, Bennett.”
He lifts a brow. “No?”
Rubbing a hand over my face I try to find the words, “I just… I don’t know how to process all of it. You showed up out of nowhere and dropped a huge, life-altering bomb. And now, I keep looking at everyone in town differently, wondering what else I don’t know. And then there’s you.”
Bennett watches me, silent, waiting.
I hesitate, but the words come anyway. “You look like my dad.” The admission sits heavy between us. “Almost exactly like he did at our age.”
A beat of silence.
His expression shifts—tense and unreadable. “Yeah?”
I nod. “We were close. Before he died. And now, I’ve got you here, his twin’s kid, looking like a ghost from the past. And I don’t know how to deal with that.”
An emotion I can’t quite place flickers across his face—understanding, maybe.
“I get it.” His voice is quieter now. “But for what it’s worth, I’m not trying to make things harder for you. I just…” He hesitates, then shrugs. “I just want to know you.”
Didn’t expect that. Not the honesty. Not the simplicity of it. No expectation. No demand. Just the truth.
Picking up my beer I take another sip before nodding toward the box. “Alright. Since you’re so set on this whole ‘getting to know me’ thing, let’s start simple.”
Leaning back he smirks at me. “Oh yeah?”
“Let’s start easy. Everyone has a favorite topping, what’s yours?”
Bennett’s smirk widens like he knows his answer will gross me out. “Sausage and giardiniera.”
A groan slips out. “Yuck. Of course, you’d like spicy pickled vegetables on pizza. That sounds disgusting.”
He feigns offense. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
“I’ll pass.” Another bite of my own slice, then, “Alright, what else? Favorite movie?”
“ Heat .”
Not a bad choice. “Respectable.”
Bennett tips his beer toward me. “What about you?”
“Movie? The Dark Knight. ”
A nod of approval. “Solid choice.”
“Band?” I ask.
“Changes too much to say.”
I lift a brow. “Cop-out answer.”
A smirk. “Fine. If I had to pick? Sevendust.”
Respectable. “Good taste.”
He eyes me over his beer. “And you?”
I consider it. “I don’t know, I’m all over the place. Depends on my mood.”
The smirk returns. “So, a cop-out answer?”
A roll of my eyes. “Shut up.”
For the first time since we met, it doesn’t feel like we’re circling each other, waiting for the other to throw the first punch. It feels… normal. Like maybe this whole cousin thing doesn’t have to be so complicated after all. That all changes when my phone rings.
* * *
Morgan
The sheriff’s department is quieter than usual, an ominous quiet that presses down on my chest. The early morning stillness wraps around me like a weight, thick and suffocating. It feels wrong to be in Gabe’s office without him, even though I’ve been here more times than I can count. His absence is still raw, an ache I’m not sure will ever go away.
Stacks of boxes surround his desk, each filled with the remnants of his life: case files, books, photos, and personal knickknacks. The department has been kind enough to let us clear out his office at our own pace, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Every item I touch is a ghost of him, lingering in the space he used to command with quiet authority.
Gabe was always meticulous, his desk unnaturally organized. Now, it’s a chaotic mix of paperwork and unfinished business, a stark contrast to the man I knew. I sigh, picking up a small framed photo. It’s him, Aubrey, and Theo at the Bear & Brew’s grand reopening after Theo’s parents died. Their grins are wide, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. It feels like a lifetime ago.
I set the photo aside and turn my attention to his computer. I hesitate before pressing the power button. It feels intrusive, like opening a door I have no right to enter. But if there’s an important clue left behind that could help us figure out what happened to him, I need to look.
The monitor hums to life, casting long shadows in the dim room. I log in using the password Gabe gave me months ago, just in case of emergencies. His desktop is neat, with only a few icons scattered across the screen.
A folder labeled “Pending Cases” catches my eye, but before I can click on it, a soft ding breaks the silence.
My heart skips a beat. The notification is subtle, just a small box in the corner of the screen.
“Security Alert: New Activity Detected.”
I frown and click on the alert. It opens a program I don’t recognize—a tracking system of some sort. A list of names appears on the screen, each linked to a series of IP addresses and timestamps.
“Activity Source: 153.31.100.95”
“What is this?” I whisper, the words barely audible.
Gabe set up alerts to notify him if anyone accessed these files. Why? What are these numbers? Who is behind them looking into records on Theo?
I need to know what those numbers are. I pull up a search engine and type in the numbers.
What.
The.
Fuck.
I don’t even bother clicking on the first link that pops up. The description makes my eyes bulge out of my head.
153.31.100.0 - 153.31.100.255 is an IP address range owned by FBI Criminal Justice Information Systems and located in the United States.
What does the FBI want with Theo?
Exiting out of the search engine I click on the alert, digging deeper. The program shows a log of past activity, and it isn’t the first time someone has accessed these files. But this is different—this isn’t routine. Whoever is doing this is digging into Theo’s background, not just the official case files.
The first thing they access is an old incident report from high school, a senior prank gone wrong. Then, the police report from when he was nine—his parents’ deaths. My stomach knots as I watch the hacker move through each file in real-time.
The next thing they open is Walter and Elise’s autopsies. I skim the document even though I’ve read it before. Blunt force trauma. Internal injuries. Cause of death: automobile accident.
Then, they access another police report. My breath catches. This isn’t one I remember seeing before. The report states that Walter and Elise were on their way home from Aubrey’s house when they crashed.
Why were they at Aubrey’s?
Another alert pops up. A new name appears on the list.
Aubrey.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I realize I’m not the only one watching this. Someone else—whoever hacked in—is pulling files on her now.
Her husband’s death.
I watch as they open statements she made after he died. I scan through them quickly. She said he had been drinking and was hung over during their time on the slope. The coroner ruled it accidental. No foul play.
Then, the hacker jumps back to Walter and Elise. The reports. The autopsies.
Back to Aubrey’s first husband. The investigation. The interrogation. I lean closer, breathing shallow. She had nothing to do with it. It was ruled an accident. But someone out there isn’t convinced.
Then they pull Gabe’s autopsy. My breath catches in my throat.
I blink, my eyes burning from staring at the screen for so long. Hours have passed. My fingers tremble as I reach for my phone. I need to tell Theo. And Bennett.
I dial Theo first.
“Hey,” I say, my voice uneven.
“You okay?” he asks, concern threading through his words. “You sound… off.”
“I’m at the department, going through Gabe’s things,” I say, glancing at the screen. “And… I accidentally found something. Can you come here?”
“On my way.”
Before he can hang up, I add, “Bring Bennett.”
Theo groans. “Why do I have to be the one to bring him?”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “Because you’re the one who needs to get over yourself and start acting like the family you are. It’s not every day you find out you have a long-lost cousin.”
He huffs. “It feels weird.”
“Well, it’s not every day you get a second chance at family either,” I shoot back. “And like it or not, Bennett’s part of this now. So call him.”
Another pause. Then, muttered under his breath, “We were in the middle of our cousinly duty of bonding.” A beat, then, begrudgingly, “I guess we’re learning to get along.”
Surprise flickers through me, but I don’t push it. “Good. Now get here.”
Theo grumbles under his breath but hangs up, and I know he’ll do it.
As the call ends, I turn back to the computer. The hacker is still there, still looking. I don’t know who they are or what they want. But I know one thing for certain—
They’re after the truth, just like we are.