Chapter 39 Finally Done
FINALLY DONE
“Thanks for letting me check this out,” Rory said when he shut the door to Gale’s condo. “I appreciate it. Though I’m sure there isn’t much to find in there.”
“Gale still at work?”
“I think so,” he said. “She was running late on a call or something.”
“Does she know what you’re doing?”
Rory didn’t like the questioning.
Didn’t Gale tell him that Rocco didn’t talk much? Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier?
But Gale had said that Rocco was odd and if there was something in this shed, then it’d be helpful.
He’d just go in aware as always.
“I didn’t say anything. If I’m not there when she comes home, she’ll just wait. You know, we don’t keep tabs on each other like that.”
Rocco let out a grunt. “You should. That was my mother’s problem. She never put her foot down with my father. Let him do what he wanted and call all the shots.”
“Is your father still around? It’s the first you’ve talked about him.”
“He’s around,” Rocco mumbled.
Rory couldn’t think of anything else to ask and didn’t want to turn this into something more than it might be.
They walked toward the shed that sat at the far edge of the condo property, its silhouette hunched against the skyline like a relic of another time.
Unlike the shiny steel buildings that had sprung up everywhere else, this one was old, weathered wood and peeling paint, the kind of place that seemed to hold on to secrets.
Why keep something like this? Daniel wasn’t sentimental. Which made Rory wonder if it was Daniel hiding something here? Or was it Kane’s domain?
Rocco jangled a massive key ring, his fist wrapped on grimy twine hanging off with each key clinking like a warning. He found the right one, shoved it into the lock, and the door creaked open with a reluctant groan.
“Go on,” Rocco said, his tone flat.
“I’m not sure where the switch is. It’s pretty dark in there,” Rory said. Being aware meant keeping people in front of him.
Rocco stepped in first, moving with a confidence that made Rory’s stomach knot and his hair stand up.
A snap of the switch, and the overhead light flickered alive chasing the shadows to the corners.
Tools lined the walls. Sharp, heavy, threatening in their own right.
Rory’s ankle holster felt like both a comfort and a curse; to reach for the gun without cause would only draw suspicion, but something was off.
“There are some bins and boxes over there,” Rocco said. “Stuff left over from the houses that were here before. Kane or Daniel liked to keep mementos. Victories, I guess. Or that is what Kane called it.”
“Victories?” Rory’s voice echoed faintly in the small space.
Rocco tugged down a bin, then a box, opening them with a heavy thud. Inside were fragments of other lives. Welcome home signs, chipped stained glass, forgotten keepsakes. The air seemed to thicken around them, tightening his airway and making his skin clammy.
Every warning signal in his brain was going off to be alert.
He didn’t want to overreact, but he wasn’t going to pretend to ignore his gut.
It hit him now, that everyone else with a tie to the McGregors seemed to be blocking him, but not right now.
Rocco was being helpful. Why? Was Rory too eager for any crumb that he got blinded before now?
“They made their money preying on people,” Rocco said, his tone cold. “And this was their reminder that they always win.”
Calculated. Devious. Two things that he’d always felt the McGregors exhibited.
Rory pulled out his phone. “Mind if I take some pictures?”
“Go ahead.”
Rory snapped a few, then quickly dropped a pin to Gale. At least she’d know where he was. She had Ford with her. That gave him some small relief if he was being paranoid. Hard not to be considering the last week he’d had.
Beside him, Rocco grunted, grabbed at his thigh and then grimaced.
“Everything okay?” Rory asked, suspicion pricking up his spine.
“Old injury,” Rocco said. “Been there since I was a kid. My knees lock and muscles cramp up. Shit like that. Nothing to worry about.”
Rocco squatted, his knee popping loudly, then shifted closer. Too close. Rory’s hand inched toward his ankle.
But before he could reach it, Rocco’s hands were suddenly at his throat—massive, crushing and unyielding. The force slammed him back, cutting off his breath, thought, and everything but panic. Rocco stood slowly, almost menacing, showing a completely different person.
“What—”
“You should’ve taken the hint,” Rocco growled, eyes dark, his voice edged with something final. “You should’ve left.”
Rory clawed at Rocco’s arms desperate to get his lungs to stop screaming. Rocco was stronger, much stronger. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? A good five inches on his six foot, his arms thicker, and longer, holding him out with his elbows locked.
“Stop,” he tried to shout, but it came out in a whisper.
“You don’t fight as hard as your sister did,” Rocco hissed, his grip tightening, Rory feeling the icy fingers digging into his flesh.
He wasn’t a hundred percent or he’d be able to think faster, react quicker.
“She was small, but fierce. Now you know what she saw… right before the air was torn from her.”
A choked sound escaped Rory’s throat. His sister. His sister.
“No.” It was all he could think to say. He was scratching Rocco’s forearms and drawing blood. His feet were trying to kick out, but Rocco only shifted to have him hitting air.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Rocco went on, his voice breaking into something twisted between regret and pride. “But she caught me. She had photos. She saw me pushing John to sell the land. I had to prove myself, and she… she left me no choice.”
Rory’s vision was narrowing, black closing in. He fought, desperate to leave evidence. Anything. Please, don’t let it end like this. Don’t let my mother bury another child.
“Warren County Sheriff, back away and put your hands up!”
Ford’s voice shattered the air. He stood in the doorway, gun leveled, fury in his eyes.
Rocco didn’t flinch. His grip only tightened.
“I can’t,” Rocco said, low and final. “He has to die… just like his sister.”
A gun went off, Rocco stumbled back grabbing his thigh and Rory was dropped to the ground where he landed on his ass. He hadn’t realized he’d been lifted that high, but it’d made sense why he couldn’t get traction to fight back. It wasn’t as if he was small or weak.
When he turned, he saw Gale was rushing toward him with her gun in her hand. Then she dropped it and got to his side. “Come on, Rory, breathe. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice raspy. “Did you shoot him?”
Ford was cuffing Rocco face down on the dirt floor of the shed and calling an ambulance in with backup.
“It was the only way to get him to let go,” she said. “I thought he was going to kill you.”
“I thought so too.” His hand came up to his throat, but it hurt like hell to touch. “What the fuck? How did—”
“Just rest and don’t talk. Rocco is Daniel’s son. Ford got the DNA results of a genetic match to Daniel when we were on the way. We stopped to talk to Kane.”
“Talk?” he asked. He would have done more than talk.
“Ford wanted to give him a chance to come in voluntarily. He broke down in tears.” He listened to Gale recap what had happened, about Daniel’s wife revealing he had an illegitimate son, then Gale realizing it was Rocco.
“Why did it occur to you it was Rocco?”
“He was always around. He blended in in his way even for a big guy. He’s been more chatty than normal. I don’t know. Something just clicked it was him and my gut said we were short on time.”
“Damn straight.”
Ford pulled Rocco up and read him his rights and brought him out of the shed.
“Do you want to get in the ambulance or have me drive you?” she asked, her hand holding his as they sat on the ground.
He pushed back and stood. “You can take me. I’m not riding with him.”
She helped Rory up and put her arm around him. He felt strong enough to talk now, but his throat was killing him. At least he was breathing.
Two attacks in a week were enough to last him a lifetime.
But it was over. Finally done.
The ambulance had pulled up and was loading Rocco in, another deputy following behind and one with Rocco inside. The big guy was crying now.
“How did we get here?” she asked Ford. “No one saw that. Not that he was Daniel’s son or that he was capable of doing it.”
“He confessed it to me,” Rory said. “Fuck.” He felt his eyes fill. “He wanted me to know what she was feeling as he killed her, then in the next statement said he didn’t want to do it.”
Gale hugged him tight, Ford putting his hand on his shoulder. “We got him now,” Ford said.
“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Stay here with Ford,” she said. “I’m going to get Clay’s truck to bring you and I’m texting Blaze now to make sure you are seen as if you came in the ambulance.”
He watched her dash off in her heels.
“Did she really shoot him? I didn’t imagine that?”
“She did,” Ford said, shaking his head.
“And now you’ve got to answer for it, don’t you?”
“It will be fine,” Ford said. “She was smart enough to shoot to disarm and not kill. I would have done the same, but I was aiming at his arms.”
“Rocco made some comment about a leg injury prior. I wonder if that caused his uneven footprints.”
“He was a year older than me. A few years younger than Kane. I don’t remember him being hurt, but I don’t know. We’ve got enough to put him away.”
“Check his keys,” he said. It’s as if it just occurred to him. “He was holding them by some string. Not really holding it completely, but his hands were on it. It’s not blue, but years of dirt and grime may have changed it. I’ll put money on those being the missing pieces to Rene’s ankle bracelet.”
In plain sight for everyone to see, was the trophy of his sister’s murder.
He gagged and then spit.
“Are you alright?” Ford said. “Let’s get you on the ground.”
“No,” he said. “I’m ill over the thought of it all. Just fucking nauseous. Everything.”
Gale came around the corner and Ford helped him into the truck, then she took off for the hospital, reminding him to remove his gun and keep it in the truck.
He was rushed in just as she said she was going to make sure of and was lying in a bed, waiting for Blaze.
“My heart is finally slowing down,” she said. “Not much, but a little. I thought I was going to lose you.”
Her voice caught, she gulped and wiped at her eyes, but Blaze came in before Rory could say anything and she moved back for him to be examined.
“I’m going to send you down for an MRI and get some x-rays of your neck and head just to make sure there is no damage, but I think, all things considered, you’re doing well.”
He was too tired to argue. “Sure.”
“It will be a bit, so sit back and relax while you can,” Blaze said, his hand landing on Rory’s arm. “I’m sorry this happened, but glad it’s behind you, and thrilled you’ll be okay.”
“Me too,” he said.
Blaze left a minute later and Rory shut his eyes. The emotions of the day were too hard to handle, but there was one more thing he had to do. He reached in and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Are you calling your mother?” Gale asked.
“It’s time to meet her and she needs to know,” he said. He hit the button and let it ring.
“Rory,” his mother said. “How are you doing?”
“We got him, Mom. We got him.” The tears rushed down his cheeks, his throat closing and making it impossible to talk.
Gale took the phone out of his hand while he silently sobbed.
“Hi, Katy. This is Gale.” He heard her sniffling too. “We are in the hospital right now. Rory is going to be fine.”
Gale put his mother on speaker. “What happened to Rory? Rory, are you there?”
“Here,” he said, clearing his throat. He needed Gale to tell his mother what happened.
“Your son is a hero. He never gave up even though there were threats made on his life. That’s how we got him.” As Gale explained the rest, his mother was crying on the other end, Gale shedding some tears too.
“I knew you could do it, Rory. But don’t you ever scare me like that again,” his mother said.
“Or me,” Gale said. “But Rory is right, he got him. He got Rocco. Rene can finally get justice. You finally get justice.”
“We got him,” he said, reaching for her hand. “We did.”