Chapter 18 #2
“Yeah, it is.”
But it wouldn’t hurt as much as losing one of my family members. For them, I’d go through the pain.
“What can we do to help?” Bryce asked.
“Feel like pulling some news archives?” I asked. “See what comes up on her and any known family members.”
“Absolutely.” She nodded. “Would it help if I came to your place so we could work side by side?”
“No, but thanks.” I needed to be alone, not only to concentrate, but to process whatever I came across. “You stay here with your family.”
“You’re family too.”
I gave her a sad smile, then looked to Dash. “When is it going to get easier? When are sins from our past going to stop haunting us?”
“I don’t know, brother.” He shook his head. “Guess all we can do is our best. Pray it ends. Keep our kids out of it so they don’t go through the same.”
The next generation would have a chance at peace. Because they’d never know the Tin King life. I’d never been more grateful that we’d disbanded the club than in this moment.
Because while we might not spare ourselves, we might stand a chance at giving the kids a fair shot.
“I think we should leave Luke out of this for now,” Dash said. “Give you a chance.”
“I was thinking the same.” As much as I liked my friend, he was a cop and bound by rules that didn’t apply to me.
While Dash and Leo were clean, I broke the law each time I hacked into someone’s life.
Luke knew what I did but that didn’t mean he liked it.
If I could keep him out of a compromising situation, keep from forcing him to turn a blind eye, then that was for the best.
“I’ll get out of here.” I stood from the chair, draining the rest of my mug before taking it to the kitchen sink.
Bryce and Dash met me by the door, watching with worried expressions as I tugged on my boots.
“I’ll call you with whatever I find,” Bryce said, her arms wrapping around me tight.
I hugged her back, then jerked my chin at Dash. “Brother.”
“Brother.”
They watched me from the doorway, standing together as I strode to my truck. When I backed out of the driveway, a little face poked between their legs.
Dash hoisted Zeke into his arms, then took his family inside.
I drove across town, yawning constantly. The lack of sleep from last night was catching up. I contemplated stopping by the coffee hut, but I’d hooked up with both baristas over the years and wasn’t really in the mood to deflect any attention—positive or negative.
My eyes were heavy, and my limbs felt sluggish. I was spent. I’d given all my energy to Nova and she’d spent me like a roll of quarters at a slot machine in Vegas.
The house was dark and quiet when I walked inside. The alarm panel beeped as I punched in the code—the new code I’d programmed last night. I trudged to my bedroom and slumped on the edge of the mattress.
She’d left her scent behind. A smell that was wholly Nova. The expensive floral perfume clung to the air. It clung to me. I couldn’t bring myself to wash her off my body.
Though a shower and a nap were overdue, I shoved to my feet and walked the length of the house for the basement staircase. I crawled beneath the pool table, retrieving the laptop I’d stowed just this morning before heading to Dash’s place.
With it under an arm, I carried it upstairs and to my office, settling into my chair. And even though I dreaded whatever I’d find, I got to work.
When an engine echoed outside, I jerked away from my monitors and checked the time. Three hours. Three hours had passed as if I’d barely blinked.
“Emmett,” Leo called from the front door.
“Office,” I called back.
His steps came down the hallway and I didn’t bother getting up.
“Hey,” he said, hovering at the threshold.
“Hey.” I jerked up my chin.
“You’re in the zone.”
“Yep.”
Without a word, he turned and retreated down the hallway. A second later, noise from the TV in the living room drifted my way.
He wouldn’t hover but he wouldn’t leave me alone. I was blessed with friends who understood me. And given that he hadn’t asked any questions, Dash must have called and told him about our early-morning conversation.
He’d saved me the trouble of repeating it.
I went back to work and finished scouring Nova’s sister’s credit bureau report. I’d already gone through the mother’s, the brother-in-law’s and Nova’s. June’s. Reconciling them as the same person wasn’t getting any easier, even as the hours passed.
“She doesn’t have a father,” I said, loud enough that Leo hit pause on whatever show he’d found on Netflix.
A minute later, he was at the door. “None?”
I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. “None listed on her birth certificate. Mother is January Johnson. Older sister is May. And she’s June.”
June Nova Johnson.
“Huh. All months.”
“Except the younger brother.”
“Who’s the brother?” Leo came into the office and propped himself on the edge of my desk.
“TJ. And apparently it doesn’t stand for anything. All I could find was TJ. Even on his death certificate.”
“He’s dead? How?”
“Accidental death was the cause. I texted Bryce about an hour ago to see what she could find in the Missoula newspaper archives. She emailed me the obituary about ten minutes ago and an article on his death. I haven’t gone through it yet.”
Bryce was more experienced with news archive systems, and I’d been busy gathering information that was not public record. Most of my time so far had been spent pulling raw data, which took time. Cracking someone’s bank account and credit bureau report wasn’t exactly speedy.
I’d learned over the years that the real secrets weren’t kept on Instagram or Facebook for the world to see. The real secrets were always tied to money. If something suspicious was happening, nine out of ten times, the money trail was where you’d find it.
Soon I’d shift gears and start pulling photos and videos, the public information. I’d scour social media for the stuff people posted that they shouldn’t. Combined with what I’d already collected, that would help paint the full picture.
My focus thus far had been on the living relatives for any chance that they’d also been in Clifton Forge.
But the mother hadn’t left Missoula in years.
The sister and her husband had gone to Hawaii a year ago—and overpaid on their vacation rental—but otherwise, there was no indication they’d ever been to Clifton Forge.
Granted, they could drive here and back on a single tank of gas, but at the moment, they seemed like normal people living normal lives.
The same was true for Nova—June.
There was no reason she should have been in Clifton Forge. The only link so far was Ira Hug.
“Let’s see how the brother died.” Leo came to stand behind my chair, watching over my shoulder as I pulled up the attachments Bryce had sent over.
The article on the brother’s death was first. It was fairly short, stating that TJ Johnson had been killed in a hunting accident at the age of eighteen and that alcohol was suspected to be involved.
“Eighteen,” Leo said. “Damn.”
“Jesus,” I muttered as I kept reading. TJ’s cause of death had been a gunshot wound in the leg. The bullet fired from a friend’s gun.
I shouldn’t feel pity for Nova. None. But it was there regardless, a pinch that she’d lost a brother too young.
I clicked the obituary. The first few lines included a list of now-familiar names as TJ’s survivors.
“Emmett,” Leo gasped.
“What?”
His jaw was clenched and the color drained from his face. He jerked his chin back to the screen.
While I’d been reading the top, he’d jumped to the bottom, where there was a smiling photo of TJ Johnson.
I blinked, narrowing my eyes and leaning closer.
It took me a moment to recognize the face in the grainy black and white photo, but then recognition dawned and my heart dropped. “That’s . . .”
Fuck.
That face blasted me to the past, to an underground fight that had gotten way out of control. Leo had been there. So had Dad.
We hadn’t known his name was TJ Johnson. All we’d known was that he’d worn the Arrowhead Warrior cut.
TJ Johnson had been a Warrior.
TJ Johnson wasn’t dead because of a hunting accident.
TJ Johnson was dead because I’d killed him.
I’d shot Nova’s brother.