Chapter 6 Terror Twins Activated
Duncan
“I’m confused. If the cameras weren’t able to see a face, how do we have a name?”
My team, plus Sloane, gathered around the open laptop centered on the dining room table. Nelson joined us via video call. He was the reason we had any information at all.
“Using traffic cameras, I was able to locate a red SUV leaving the area around the same time as the perp would’ve been exiting the woods,” his voice sounded through the speakers.
“From there, I traced the vehicle back to a rental car company, pulled up the online agreement, and voila, our mystery man was identified.”
“Is that legal?”
“Umm…Agent Mitchell? A little help here.”
Waverly rolled her eyes. “We do what we have to do, Sloane. Will it hold up in court? Negative. Will my boss rip me a new asshole if he finds out? I’ll take my chances.”
“Gotcha. So you’ve got a name.”
“I don’t just have his name, Miss Beckington. I’ve got his driver’s license, place of employment, credit history, and dental records, to name a few.”
Keaton raised his hand. “What the hell do we need dental records for, Nelson? We’re not identifying bodies.”
“Yet,” Noah added.
Koen snorted. “Someone’s fucking with Duncan’s woman and his kids. Do you actually think there will be bodies to identify?"
He wasn’t entirely wrong, though murder wasn’t my style.
We were familiar with operating in the gray.
We’d done it when Henley and Jade were kidnapped by a serial killer set on revenge against Keaton.
Then twice more when Jade almost died at the hands of a drug cartel in California, and when Lanie was targeted by the Russian Bratva.
When it came to protecting our family, the lines separating right from wrong didn’t just blur, they disappeared all together.
“Let’s get back on track, shall we? Nelson, tell me everything you know about this guy.”
“Sure thing, Special Agent Mitchell. Donald Lester is forty-three, divorced, no kids, lives with his mother––”
“Probably a basement dweller,” Lanie interjected.
“And works part time as a used car salesman.”
“Why would a used car salesman be lurking behind Sloane’s house?”
“I’m getting to that, Agent Palmer. The guy moonlights as a PI.”
A chorus of groans rented the air. Sloane looked puzzled by our reaction, so I clued her in on the good, the bad, and the––sometimes––unscrupulous world of private investigation.
Don’t get me wrong, there were quite a few reputable PIs out there.
Unfortunately, there were just as many with questionable intentions, who were strictly in it for the paycheck, and in most cases, got their license off of shady internet websites.
“How do you know this Lester guy isn’t the good kind?”
“Sunshine, if he was, he wouldn’t need a second job.”
“Or to shack up with mommy,” Lanie chimed in.
“Or that,” I grunted.
“Where does he live, Nelson? Noah and I’ll pay him a visit.”
“Pack up your fancy car then, Keaton. His license says he’s from Knoxville, Tennessee, about five hours southeast of here if you’ve got a lead foot.”
Sloane abruptly pushed away from the table. “I’m going to need an alibi and a shovel.”
We watched in stunned silence as she marched straight to the kitchen and wrenched open the refrigerator door.
Every ingredient she pulled out was tossed onto the counter without care––including the carton of eggs––all while she muttered murderous intentions.
It was safe to say my girl was livid. I was torn between going to her or giving her space to work through her anger.
The choice was stolen from me when Finn slipped out from in between the twins and made a beeline for his sister.
Whatever he’d overheard from our conversation pissed him off.
His hands were curled into fists at his sides and his face was stone-cold.
Finn wouldn’t hurt her, I had no doubt about that, but my protective instincts were riding me hard to intercede.
I got to my feet. So did the rest of my team, ready to have my back, but before I could take a step, Waverly wrapped a hand around my wrist.
“Give them a second.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Her mom lives in Tennessee.”
I scrubbed my hand down my face. “Fucking hell.”
Finn approached Sloane like a wild animal, his movements slow and calculated.
He said something indiscernible, then rocked back on his heels when she launched herself into his waiting arms. Dammit, that should be me.
With his eyes scrunched closed, he held her tight, talking softly in her ear, stroking a hand up and down her back.
Her shoulders shook, though she didn’t make a sound.
“How do I keep her from getting hurt when this goes sideways?”
“You can’t, D. But you can be there to put her back together.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Nothing either of you has gone through is fair.” Noah clamped his hand on my shoulder. “Take a good look at all of us standing here, Duncan.”
I did. My gaze landed on the two people I’d known the longest. The first befriended a man teetering on the edge of broken, the other had been filled with so much rage it oozed from his pores. Waverly was my salvation––Keaton, my redemption.
“Every single one of us has been knocked down in some way, shape, or form by that callous bitch called life,” Noah continued.
“Do you think it was fair for a seventeen-year-old kid to discover his father was a serial killer?” Keaton threw out. “I was drowning in hate. Then you told me to man the fuck up, right before you literally kicked my ass.”
I suppressed a laugh, remembering that day like it was yesterday. He’d been a cocky little shit back then, in need of an attitude adjustment, with good reason. Quantico gave him the means while I gave him the tools to expel his demons.
“You said to love Jade through her nightmares.”
My head snapped briefly to Koen, then to Noah.
“And you told me to fight for Lanie.”
“It’s time for you to take some of your own advice.” Lanie grinned.
“You ready?” Waverly nudged me toward the kitchen. “Man the fuck up. Love her through it. Fight for your happiness. Oh, and I told you so.”
“Told me what?”
“That your day was coming.”
For once in my life, I didn’t want to move with stealth.
I wanted to be heard, for Sloane to know I was coming for her.
Heel-toe. Heel-toe. My boots clanked against the floor with the grace of a toddler first learning how to walk.
I’m sure I looked fucking ridiculous, but it was better than the alternative.
The last thing I needed was for Lanie to catch wind of Sloane’s earlier threat regarding bells on my shoes.That girl had been promising something similar for years.
“I’m here, Sloanie. We’ll get through this together,” Finn declared quietly.
As if sensing my presence behind her, she turned in her brother's hold. She was so damn beautiful, yet so completely wrecked. The anguish in her brilliant sapphire eyes was palpable, almost bringing me to my knees.
“I hate this for you. If I could make it disappear, I’d do it in a heartbeat. What do you need?” I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Whatever it is, it’s yours. You wanna go to Tennessee? We’ll be on the road in an hour. Just say the word, Sunshine.”
“My mom and I have unfinished business. That’s on me. I never should’ve left without confronting her.” Shifting on her feet, she asked, “Before we go, do you think you’d be able to find out why she hired a private investigator?”
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best.”
“Good, because I don’t trust her. She’s already proven to be untrustworthy. I wouldn’t put it past her to lie to save herself. Once I’ve had my say though, it’s over. I’m done. Maeve Beckington won’t be welcome in our lives again.”
“Are you positive you want to cut her off? I don’t want you to have regrets.”
“My only regret is allowing this to carry on for so long.”
“What about Dad?” Finn asked as he stepped out from behind her.
“I don’t know.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I only have the bandwidth to handle one malicious parent at a time.”
“That’s okay. I’ll deal with Shawn O’ Lachlan. If he’s involved, Joel will find out. Then I’ll feckin’ ruin him.”
And I’d help. His selfishness had torn his family apart at a time when they should’ve pulled together. Sick or not, her father would regret the day he crossed my path.
Her lips tipped at the corners. “Thank you, big brother.”
“You’re my sister,” he answered nonchalantly. “Speaking of, I texted Shannon earlier to let her know what was going on. She wants to stop by later when the dust settles.”
“Fudge. I’ll message her.”
“We’re going to head out.” Waverly linked arms with her fiancé.
“We are?”
“Yes, Finnian, we are.”
I glanced over my shoulder to find the rest of the team packing up our equipment. While I was grateful for their presence, today was supposed to be about me, Sloane, and the kids. We had time to salvage most of it.
Goodbyes were said and soon we were alone, just the four of us.
Sloane shooed me out of the kitchen when she began cleaning up her char-whatever-you-call-them boards.
The twins were thoroughly engrossed in the movie they were watching, at least until I meandered through the living room.
They tracked my every movement, studying me like a slide under a microscope.
Lowering myself onto the same chair from earlier, I resumed my previous position.
Elbows to knees, I shrank in on myself, trying to look slightly less imposing, which––at six foot six––was laughable.
Nevertheless, I’d do whatever it took to make them feel comfortable around me.
Reagan’s timid voice was barely audible over the TV in the background. “What do we call you?”
Of all the things she could’ve asked, I didn’t expect her to dive headfirst into the deep end. How did I respond? This was about them––their wants, their needs. Mine took a back seat.
“What do you want to call me?”