Chapter Twenty-One
Declan
“Sheriff,” Martha Daniels’ voice called through the intercom connected to my desk phone.
Pressing the button I replied, “Yes, Martha.”
“I have a Dr. August Lansing here to see you.”
“Please have Deputy Norris show him to my office. Thank you, Martha.”
I knew why the man was here, though it still surprised me he made the trip.
Deputy Norris knocked on my door before opening and ushered the doctor to the seat in front of my desk.
At first glance, I didn’t notice anything amiss. However, once I paid attention, I saw that he didn’t lift his feet completely off the floor when he walked, there was a missing button just above where his shirt was neatly tucked into his pants, and his eyes were slightly red-rimmed.
If he wasn’t drunk, then he was in the early stages of withdrawal.
“What can I do for you, Dr. Lansing?”
We sat in my office for over an hour, going over the details of the case I worked almost a month ago. I showed him the abundance of evidence we had against the Livingston couple, who tried to have their daughter held for mental instability. They had shown up here with medical reports signed by Dr. Lansing that had been forged.
“I would like to talk to the girl.”
“You will need to contact the president of the Silver Shadows. Her husband is a patched member; so is her brother.”
“Fucking bikers,” he muttered.
“Dr. Lansing, it was my understanding that you yourself are a ‘fucking biker.’”
“Technically, yes.”
He rose from his seat and shook my hand, thanking me for my time, before walking out. I thought about calling King to give him a heads-up, but he had been acting like a dick lately. I understood things had been hectic the last few months, but the world didn’t revolve around him.
Doesn’t it?
Yeah, my world had revolved around him since the day he was born. He was so small, and all he did was cry for the first few days. I guess that’s what happened when your mother decided she couldn’t take care of you, and instead let the grandmother raise her child.
Babies instinctively knew who their parents were, and when they were born into a strange new place with unfamiliar noises and feelings, they expected the person who kept them safe for nine months to continue doing so.
Those first couple of days were hard. My dad always told me, ‘You’re his big brother; it’s your job to protect him, to teach him. Your mother and I won’t always be around, so you have to step up.’
When they died, that was exactly what I did.
I stepped up and became his father, no longer the big brother. He knew I loved him, but he would never know just how much I sacrificed to protect him.
“Sheriff.”
The intercom buzzed again.
“Yes, Martha.”
“Just wanted to remind you of your lunch with the mayor.”
“Thank you, Martha.”
After lunch with the mayor, I had been back in the station for an hour when my intercom buzzed again.
“Sheriff.”
“Yes, Martha.” I tried to conceal the irritation in my voice, but today was one of those days that seemed to be nonstop. Most days, the only time I heard from Martha was a brief good morning, or good evening, or to make sure I didn’t forget about lunch.
“There are some gentlemen here to see you.”
“Can you have Deputy Norris show them to my office?”
“I think you should come out here, Sheriff.”
“Martha, please have Norris show them back.”
“No.”
No? Martha never told me no. What the hell was going on?
“Martha, that was an order.”
“No, sir.”
What the fuck?
Getting up from my desk, I stormed out to the front of the station, ready to give Martha a talking to. Except when I saw who was standing in the foyer, I stopped dead in my tracks.
FUCK!
“Hey, Lannie, long time no see.”
Braesal O’Malley, the head of the Irish Mafia and my older brother, was standing in front of me. Dressed in a gray wool peacoat, no doubt a three-piece suit under it.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, not knowing how to address the man that was my hero when I was a kid. The emotion that overwhelmed me also surprised me. I figured if I ever came face-to-face with him again, I would feel disdain or anger.
I expected animosity, or bitterness, maybe even ambivalence. Never did I expect to feel anything like what I was currently experiencing. What surprised me was that I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him tight.
What shocked me most of all, I had missed him.
Despite everything I knew about who he had become, he was still my big brother. He was still the man I had worshipped as a child. He was still the man who had taught me how to tie my shoes, how to ride a bike, and how to swim. If we’d stayed in Boston, I’m sure he would have taught me everything I needed to know about girls.
That brought Maureen to mind. And the fact that he asked her to marry him. All at once, it was easy to shove those feelings deep down inside, where they had been hiding. Where they belonged.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
Removing his gloves from his hands, he asked, “Is that any way to greet your big brother?”
I stole a glance at Martha, sitting at her desk. She wasn’t focused on us, but the barely perceptible stiffening of her back told me she was listening. And she knew who was standing in her station.
And make no mistake, it was her station. Martha was a force inside these walls. She was the heart of this station, and the one who kept it running. She knew every resident of Diamond Creek, and no one got through the lobby without her say so.
Which was the only reason I didn’t knock King out the other day. Despite what Jackie accused, I knew he had stopped by Martha’s desk first and she let him in.
“I don’t have time for this shit. Why are you here?”
“It’s time I met my baby brother.”
“No.”
Sal turned his head and looked at Tyran. “You hear this shit? He actually told me no.”
“I heard him.”
I narrowed my eyes at Tyran Fitzpatrick. I knew what he did. I should be thankful. After all, he was the reason we had King.
“Hey, Lannie.”
I turned my gaze on Duncan Murphy. Duane’s older brother.
“Hey, Dunc. How’s Duane?”
The barely perceptible tilt of his head told me he knew that Duane and I were still in contact. But he kept it to himself when he answered, “Duane was killed last year.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He simply nodded as he watched me.
“This was a curtesy, Lannie, I could have gone directly to the clubhouse,” Sal said, unbuttoning his coat. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
I looked at the five men standing in front of me. I would know Tyran anywhere. He was always a big motherfucker. Being Sal’s right-hand man, he wouldn’t go anywhere without him. I also knew Duncan. He and Duane looked just alike.
I wasn’t sure who the other two were.
“Who are they?” I asked, lifting my chin toward the two silent men that stood behind my brother.
“You remember Cian?”
My eyes widened with recognition at Cian McCarthy. He was three years older than Duane and me, and I thought for sure he was going somewhere other than the Mob. He was smart, like Einstein smart. I couldn’t imagine his talents were being used in the Mob.
Cian smiled. “Hey, Dec, long time.”
“The other one is Cormac Delaney.”
“Delaney? Old Man Delaney’s boy?”
Cormac, or Mac as he was always called, was two years younger than me. He was in Maureen’s grade at school, and he was always quiet. It surprised me to see him with my brother as well. But Old Man Delaney was as shady as they came, so it made sense his son would follow in his footsteps.
Looking at my brother, I conceded, “We can talk in my office.” Turning to Tyran, I pointed my finger at him and hissed, “You stay.”
“I’m not a fucking dog.”
“You sure about that?”
Tyran took a step forward. The deep-set lines on his face told me he wanted to hurt me. He couldn’t kill me, though. At least, not in front of Sal.
Sal swung his arm up, halting Tyran’s pursuit, and sighed. “Enough.”
Sal knew Tyran and I hated each other. What he didn’t know was why. Thirty-eight years apart had only made the divide between his best friend and his little brother grow to the size of the Grand Canyon.
“Tyran, stay here.”
“But—”
“He’s my little brother, and the fucking sheriff. What the hell do you think he’s gonna do in his goddamn station?”
Tyran wasn’t afraid of what I might do. No. He was afraid of what I might say. I grinned at him, letting him know that even after all these years apart, I knew I still had more pull with Sal than he did.
And I always would.
Family first.
Always.
“Martha, please get the men some coffee while they wait.”
“Sure, Sheriff.”
Leading Sal to my office, I held the door as he walked through, making sure it was closed before I sat at my desk.
“Why are you really here?”
“I told you, it’s time I met our baby brother.”
I studied his face. His eyes never left mine. Most people when they lie, couldn’t hold eye contact, but I knew given who Sal was, he had perfected his poker face years ago.
“Why now?”
He sighed heavily and shrugged out of his coat. “Maureen is here. I want to know why.”
“What does it matter?”
He tipped his head and glared at me.
When he stayed quiet, I added, “You can’t have her.”
“And why is that?”
“Because she doesn’t want you. That’s why she left.”
“And she somehow just happened to settle down in the same town as my brothers?”
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. It was a sign of defense. I was guarding myself. At fifty years old, I found it hard not to open up and tell my brother everything, all the secrets, all the lies. How was it possible, knowing everything I did, that I still loved the bastard? That I still missed him.
“I would think you would be more concerned with her settling down in the town with her best friend’s orphaned son.”
“So he finally told you, huh?” He grinned.
“You’re an asshole.”
“That I am. And a bastard; let’s not forget that,” he said, looking around my office. He focused on the picture on my desk. Picking it up, he asked, “Is this her?”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t in the mood for a family reunion.
“She’s beautiful. Looks like Mom.”
His eyes softened when he spoke of our mother. I wondered how he felt about her. I lied to King when I told him Sal had stopped communication. The truth was our mother had cut him out of her life when we moved.
She had to.
To protect King.
“You know I had no idea where you went until they died,” he admitted, placing the photo back on my desk. “It wasn’t as easy to locate people who didn’t want to be found in the eighties. Eamon wouldn’t let me hire a P.I.; he said it was her choice and to leave it alone.”
He looked up at me and asked, “Was it her choice?”
“Yes.”
He nodded before standing up. I didn’t want to hurt him that way. The reality was my mother loved him and missed him every day. But she sacrificed her own relationship with her oldest son, to be sure King had the choices Sal never had.
Shoving his arms into his coat, he said, “I am going to the clubhouse. You can accompany me and facilitate the introductions, or I can go alone. But I want to meet my brother and my niece. I would also like to meet Justin. We’ve only ever spoken on the phone.”
“His name is Micah. Or Blade. Don’t call him Justin in front of my daughter. It pisses her off.”
He chuckled. “She has Mom’s temper?”
I smiled, thinking about my daughter and the trouble her mouth got her into. “In spades.”
“It’s good to see you, Lannie. Despite the badge on your belt, I’m glad to see you.”
All I could do was nod. We couldn’t have the relationship like we once did, not while I was a cop. But he would always be my brother.
“I’ll lead you over to the clubhouse. They won’t let you in without calling King first,” I said, standing from my seat behind my desk. “And I want to surprise him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s been a dick.”
“And a surprise meeting with the older brother he’s never met is a punishment?”
“Yes.”
Sal and his men followed me outside. When I climbed into my car, I hit the call button on my phone.
“Hello.”
“Call the prospect on the gate and tell him to let me in when I get there.”
“He always lets you in.”
“I have guests.”
“Who?”
“Jack, just tell him to let us in, and don’t tell King.”
“Dec—”
“Do it, Jack.”
I hung up the phone.
Was I being an asshole? Yes, but I needed to control this meeting.
In order to do that, I needed King to be caught off guard.