Chapter 10
Ten
Run out of his mom’s room by the night nurses, Cam traded the chair by her bed for the one in the hallway.
She’d come through the bypass fine, though she was still mostly asleep, only waking once during his shift—he checked the time on his phone—which ended shortly.
He was starting to fade too after a day of searching through books and archives.
Not even the atrociously uncomfortable hallway chair was stalling the nodding off.
He checked his phone again. Almost midnight there; he’d still be awake.
Nic picked up on the second ring. “You on night shift again?”
“West Coast time, relatively,” he said around a yawn. “Dad can go home and sleep, and Bobby and Quinn can be with their families.”
“You need to sleep too.”
“Keith comes on at three. Only God and the Marine Corps know what time zone his body is set to. I’ll sleep then.”
Nic laughed, low and soft. “I remember that, never quite sure where or when you are.”
Cam slouched in his chair, closing his eyes against the florescent lights and white walls.
He could commiserate with them both. Not quite sure where and when he was.
He needed to be here with his family, and today at the station, he was reminded of the people he missed working with.
But Nic’s voice, his laugh, made Cam want to be someplace different too.
He felt grounded in Nic’s presence, adrift without him.
“Hey, Boston, you still there?”
“Yeah, sorry.” He opened his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, tugging it as if he could tug himself into the here and now. Awake. “Zoned out there a minute.”
“That thing I mentioned about sleep . . .”
“Zip it, smart-ass.” Nic laughed again, and Cam hated to have to upend the easy mood of the only easy conversation he’d had today, but he needed an update worse and a distraction worse still. “Anything new on Vaughn?”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
Cam gritted his teeth and righted himself in the chair. “I’ll worry about you if I goddamn want to.”
“I said you don’t need to worry about that because I brought in Aidan and AD Moore like you suggested.”
Cam unclenched his jaw and released a giant sigh. “Thank fuck.” He’d still worry, no stopping that, but this was progress. More people on the team meant maybe they’d fix this shit with Vaughn and Curtis before more bullets flew. At Nic.
“We’ve got the full FBI files now,” Nic went on. “We’re following the money, looking for Vaughn’s Bureau and USAO sources. Fucking game of whack-a-mole but we’ll get there.”
“And when you do?”
“Pressure, and if I make a run at Vaughn directly—”
Cam launched out of his chair. “If you do what?”
“It’s fine, Boston.”
“The fuck it is,” he shot back, hand braced on the opposite wall, trying to stop himself from punching through it. “I should be there.”
“You should be right where you are. I can take care of me.”
“He threaten you again?”
“Not so much. He showed up at Gravity.”
Cam’s arm gave out and he sagged front first into the wall, banging his forehead on the plaster. “Fuck me.”
“Listen, Cam. Aidan and Moore have my back now too, in addition to Mel and Lauren. We got this. Now, tell me how it’s going there with your mom.”
He flattened his palm and counted to ten, biting back the argument on the tip of his tongue.
Nic was right. He had all the team assembled there except him and Jamie, who were here.
If they really needed them, they’d say so, Aidan especially.
Didn’t make it any easier knowing the guy he was falling for could make one wrong move and Cam would be across the country where he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
But fucking argue. And what the fuck good was that going to do at three in the morning but piss the both of them off.
He took a deep breath and pushed off the wall. “She’s fine. Bypass surgery went as well as could be expected. Now we wait for her to stabilize before they assess if another operation is needed.”
“That’s good. What about Erin’s case? You and Jamie make any progress?”
He dragged his feet back across the hallway and collapsed again into the chair, waving at the nurses on the way out of his mother’s room. “We were at the Family Justice Center today, going through old missing persons cases. Trying to find links.”
“You didn’t do all that before?” Nic asked.
“Yes, I did, but fresh eyes and a fresh list from Mom.”
“Your mom?”
“It’s been her pet project the past year. She’s been making notes and missing persons lists in her old romance novels.”
“No shit?” The admiration in Nic’s voice made Cam smile.
“No shit, and you’ll never guess who one of the names was.” He didn’t keep him in suspense long. “Rebecca Wright.”
“You’re shit—” He cut himself off, and Cam could picture Nic drumming his fingers on the nearest surface, deep in thought. “Actually, I remember that. There was a missing persons report in her file.”
“From when she was fourteen. Two years older than Erin.”
“But she didn’t stay missing. False alarm as far as we understood.”
“And the two matters are probably unconnected but given her similar appearance and age when she disappeared . . .”
“You want me to question her?”
“If you’ve got time.”
“I’ll make time.”
That feeling of being too far from shore walloped Cam again.
The anchor was right there but out of reach, the current pulling him back the other way.
Unfortunately, he had to go with the current, back out to sea for the time being, especially with Bobby and Keith stepping off the elevator at the end of the hall. “Fuck, I gotta go.”
“Everything okay?”
“Keith just got here,” he said, standing.
“Good, go get some sleep.”
The genuine concern in Nic’s voice tamped down his instinct to snark. “Thank you for following up,” he said instead, meaning it both ways. “And let me know what Becca says.”
“Of course. Later, Boston.”
“Bye for now,” Cam replied, and the words felt wrong the second they left his mouth.
Nic hung up before he could correct them. But would giving his usual sign-off be fair? Could he answer Sooner, Price, when he had no idea when sooner would be?
“You look like you ate something sour,” Bobby said.
Keith, without a greeting or second glance, went directly into their mother’s room.
Cam’s gaze followed his younger brother until the older one in front of him spoke. “He’s angry.”
“He’s been angry for two decades.”
“Because of what we did.”
Grim-faced, Bobby tilted his head toward the other end of the hallway. They were halfway down the hall before Cam asked, “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be home sleeping.”
“Sat up talking with Keith, then gave him a lift here.”
“Don’t you have to be at work in the morning?”
Bobby waggled his dark brows as he ducked into one of the lounges. “Benefits of being the boss.” He ran his own private security company, an ironic yet appropriate gig for a former B&E guy. “Besides, you’re the one who looks like he needs sleep.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that.”
“Because it’s true,” Bobby said as he poured coffee for them both. “How are you, really?”
“Tired,” he admitted, eagerly taking the cup, and Bobby smiled wider. “The case—”
“Don’t want to hear about the case.” He pulled out a chair at one of the lounge tables, and Cam claimed the other across from him.
“You’re angry too.”
“No,” Bobby said, surprising Cam. “I understand why she asked and why you have to look. You’re doing us both a favor.”
“But Keith . . .”
“He’d be just as angry if you were here looking over his shoulder.” He took a long swallow, then leaned back in his chair. “I meant, how are you doing? After that case last spring? With work? With San Francisco? You haven’t really mentioned to anyone how life’s going for you out there.”
“I’m not the one we need to be worrying about right now.”
Bobby laid a coffee-warmed hand on his forearm. “I’m not worried. I just want to know and to not think about our mom’s condition for five minutes.”
There was a reason he and Bobby were closest. They thought so much alike, for better or worse. “The case was hard. I can’t go into details.”
“Understood. But you made it through okay?”
“Yeah, I have a good partner and good friends. They kept me grounded through it.” The heist case had been rough, having to dig into his old life to save another, and there’d been more than a few close calls. Worth it, though. “I was able to help someone else’s sister too.”
“That’s good, that’s good.”
“I haven’t broken our promise, Bobby.” After Erin’s disappearance, they’d promised each other never to slip back into the life.
It had been hard for Cam on that case to ignore the adrenaline rush each time he cracked a safe, coming right up on his red line multiple times, but he’d stayed on the right side of it by remembering the promise he’d made to Bobby and the people counting on him.
“I know that,” Bobby said with a nod. “How’s San Francisco?”
“Fucking expensive.” Cam groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. “And fucking swarming with Giants and Warriors fans. Though get this. Nic, the former special forces prosecutor”—he lowered his voice because God forbid anyone hear the blasphemy he was about to utter—“is a fucking Kings fan.”
Now it was Bobby’s turn to groan loudly.
Cam laughed. “He’s also determined to rename Bird, Joe.”
“And this guy’s still a friend?”
More than, but Cam still wasn’t ready to have that conversation, not while they were all so tense. “He also brews a wicked good beer,” he said, sticking to a safer topic.
“Hmm, good man to have around, then.” Bobby searched his face, a little too knowing, and Cam stood, heading back to the coffeepot. “Anyone special in San Fran?” Bobby asked.
Cam almost bobbled the pot. “A few dates here or there but with work . . .”
“No one at work?” Bobby continued to dig, damn him.
“After Aidan and Jamie’s office romance, no.” It technically wasn’t a lie.
Bobby shrugged. “Worked out for them. Jamie looks happy.”
“He is, and I’m happy for him.”
“You deserve to be happy too, Cameron.”
The words and sentiment were so heartfelt, Bobby’s blue eyes so concerned, that Cam could tell this wasn’t the first time Bobby had had this conversation.
For some reason, the matter of his love life, or lack thereof, was a family concern worth discussing.
“Why’s everyone on my ass and not Keith’s? ”
“’Cause he’s nothing but piss and vinegar. You’re more sweet and sour.” Bobby shot him a wink. “We have hope for you.”
Cam chuckled, but it petered out as he thought about his angry little brother. And the hand he’d played in making him that way. “I don’t want Keith to hate me more than he already does.”
“You bring Mom peace, he won’t.”
Cam feared the other possibility more. If he couldn’t solve his sister’s disappearance, all he would’ve brought any of them was more unrest.