Chapter 9
nine
. . .
FINN
“What the fuck, Lane?” I fumed as I stalked into his office and slammed the door shut behind me. Placing my palms flat on his desk, I leaned in, getting right in his face.
“I swear to god, Finn, I had no fucking idea.”
“You just put that woman through hell for nothing,” I gritted out.
“I know, I know,” Lane said, raising his hands in surrender. “And I’m sorry. But honestly, I could not have predicted that. No one could have.”
As furious as I was for Reagan’s sake, he was right, and it took some of the wind out of my sails.
“Somebody please tell us what the fuck is going on,” Crew demanded.
I straightened and began pacing, mind spinning, while Lane filled West and Crew in on what had happened.
“So…the sister isn’t dead?” Crew asked.
“Not as far as we know. She and Finn”—he glared pointedly at me—“seem to agree that she would know if her sister was gone thanks to some woo-woo twin shit.”
West nodded in understanding. “Makes sense.”
Lane rolled his eyes. “Not you too.”
West shrugged. “I can’t explain it, Sheriff. I just know it’s real.” He tapped a spot on his chest, right over his heart, then jerked his chin at me. “I’d know if something happened.”
I smirked at Lane.
“Like when you got shot,” I said. “I knew right away.”
“Yeah, can we not bring that up?” he asked, palm moving slightly to the left, to the point where a specially designed armor-piercing bullet had shredded through his Kevlar vest and pierced his body. “I swear it fucking…pulses every time someone mentions it.”
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“The point is,” Lane said, redirecting our attention to the matter at hand, “now I’ve got a fucking missing person’s case and an unidentified dead girl in the morgue.”
He leaned back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Might have to bring Trey in,” Crew said.
“We’ll see,” Lane replied.
“‘We’ll see’? Are you serious?” Crew asked, incredulous. “I get you’re pissed you got this one so wrong, but there’s a missing woman out there and we have a tech genius for a brother. You don’t think that could help?”
Lane’s hand scraped down his face, and he blew out a long breath. The set of his shoulders—hiked up damn near to his ears—told me his patience was wearing thin.
“Can we get these statements done with?” West asked, sensing what I had. “I’d like to get home sometime before midnight.”
“Shit, yeah,” Lane said, rocking forward and pulling his work phone out of his pocket. He clicked on the voice recorder, stated the case number and purpose for the interview, then nodded at Crew to go first.
Before Crew could start speaking, Lane’s personal phone rang, and he paused the recording to answer.
“Sheriff Lawless.” A beat. “Hey, Reagan. What can I do for you?”
Reagan?
Whatever she said had Lane’s brows rising in surprise. He flipped to a new page in his notebook and started scribbling. “You got a plate?” Lane asked.
A plate for what?
“This is great, Reagan. Thank you. We’ll run this down, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
When he disconnected, I looked at him expectantly.
“Just another lead to run down,” he said, being evasive. “Let’s get these statements done.”
Though I wanted to press, I didn’t. I had no authority here, and he wasn’t obligated to tell me shit.
An hour later, we’d finished rehashing our memories of the recovery of the dead girl.
Though after ten p.m., and it had been a long day for all of us—except maybe Crew, who wasn’t on shift that day—Lane stalled us before we could get up and leave.
“What do you guys remember about that night seven years ago?”
“We were out celebrating,” Crew said slowly. “You’d just been named sheriff, so West and Finn were home on leave, and Owen and I had come too.”
Back then, only Trey and Lane had resided in Dusk Valley. It had been the first time in far too long that all my brothers and I were in the same place.
“I remember Tony Walter acting like a fucking asshat and making a pass at Reagan,” I said.
“Do you think he could be the one?” Lane asked. “Revenge for her rejection and all that?”
My eyes fluttered shut as I conjured memories from that night, but I ultimately shook my head.
“Reagan went back to her table after I told Tony to leave, and her sister left sometime after that. I think it’s safe to say Tony was long gone by then.
Even so, this isn’t his style. He’d smack her around in the parking lot, not abduct her. ”
Though it had been a long time since that night, Tony Walter hadn’t changed much. In fact, he may have gotten worse. I was genuinely surprised his liver hadn’t given up on him yet—or that his wife hadn’t packed up herself and her kids and left.
“True,” Lane said, jotting down notes in the ever-present spiral-bound pad he kept in his pocket. “Who else was there that night?”
“Christ,” West said. “It’s been so long, and we’d holed up in the corner, remember? As far away from the door as we could get.”
That was typical of us, especially during those infrequent trips home when all I’d wanted to do was spend time with my family and decompress before West and I shipped back overseas.
As local boys and war heroes to boot, Dusk Valley’s residents had no qualms about interrupting our evenings to shoot the shit or sing our praises.
Of course, that night, I’d made an exception for Reagan. I couldn’t have freed myself from the gravitational force dragging me toward her, even if I’d wanted to.
Lane continued scribbling, seeming to lose himself as ideas and memories poured from him onto the pages.
“Anything else?” he asked, at last looking at us.
I shook my head. Crew and West followed suit.
“Honestly, I don’t remember a lot about that night except Reagan.”
West shot me a shit-eating grin. “You gonna hit that again?”
“Fuck you. Her sister is missing, and she’s not staying.”
“I didn’t hear the word ‘no’ anywhere in there,” Crew supplied with a smirk.
I smacked him upside the head, and he, West, and Lane devolved into a fit of laughter.
Their comments forced me to confront the idea, though. Would I fuck Reagan again?
The answer was a resounding yes.
Although, I didn’t love the term in reference to her. That night had been a hell of a lot more than two strangers fooling around, getting off, and going their separate ways. The entire time, it seemed as though some greater force had been at work, guiding us to one another.
And I had to admit, the idea that the same force had brought us back together now had me…hopeful.
Hopeful for a future I’d never dared to allow myself to envision before.