Chapter Twenty-Eight #3
Seth frowned. “Everything okay?”
“I’m fine. But I ran into Tony on Friday. He’s a good guy, and you two were tight back in the day. He told me you’d met up for beers the other day.”
“Yeah, he came to our hotel. Why?”
Gene leaned closer. “Did he…seem okay to you? I only know him in passing, so maybe I’m off base.
But he seems…off. Jumpy. Something. I don’t know.
He practically bit off the record clerk’s head the other day, which isn’t like him.
And I’m not the only one who’s noticed. I’ve heard whispers…
” He held up his hands. “If it’s personal, I don’t want to pry.
I just worried that Kowalski’s death messed him up. ”
“Tony took it hard. You know anything about that?”
“Not much. I didn’t know Kowalski well. The new guys aren’t that interested in rubbing elbows with us old-timers.
” Gene shrugged wryly. “But Kowalski’s death shocked everyone.
And I gotta be honest, that situation doesn’t feel right.
There’s some weird shit going on at the station. It’s pissing me off.”
“Tony said the same thing.” Seth frowned. “And you don’t know anything?”
“Not much.” Gene winced, looking a bit ashamed.
“You’re a sergeant. Surely, you can do something to stop—”
“I don’t know who I can trust, kid.” Gene’s lips flattened to a thin line.
“Over the years, people who ask too many questions wind up dead…like Kowalski. I should have dug more, but after your dad, I just…put my head down, hoping I’d live another day and eventually avenge Michael.
But I never figured out what happened. Now, I’m retiring in six months. ”
And Gene didn’t want to make waves. Seth understood. He’d made the same choice after losing Autumn and Tristan.
“I get it.”
“That I’m a coward? Yeah.” Gene looked contrite as hell. “Michael was a good man. I owed him more.”
Seth patted Gene’s shoulder. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to die, too.”
“I keep telling myself that. The truth is, whoever is orchestrating this shit? It’s got to be someone way above my pay grade.”
“The chief?” Seth asked, gut twisting with dread for his friend.
“That’s my best guess. Greedy fucking prick,” Gene spat.
“I’d love to blow the lid off this mess.
Once, a few years after your dad’s death, I thought I’d found some evidence…
but it got buried immediately, covered up so tight a crowbar couldn’t pry it free.
Then I got demoted out of the blue. I knew it was a warning.
That’s one reason I tried so hard to keep you from pursuing your dad’s case.
I didn’t know they’d come after your family and—”
“I might have the evidence.” Seth glanced over his shoulder. Still no eyes on them.
Gene froze, then he leaned in, a smile spreading across his face. “What do you mean?”
“This morning, I found something. Some stash dad left for me a week before he died. It might be evidence, proof of what happened to him.”
Gene’s expression shifted—shock, then something sharper. “What? Here?”
“No. He hid a note in my room. I found it taped to the back of my dresser this morning.” Seth’s jaw tightened. “He left me a unit number and a key to the storage unit down the street.” He rattled off the name of the facility.
Gene’s eyes widened. “Jesus. Just like that? That’s…that’s shocking. After all these years...”
“I’m as blown away as you are.” Seth kept his voice barely above a whisper. “Since Mom is sending me on an errand, I’m going to swing by and check out this place.”
“Now?”
“It’s gotta be now or never. Do me a favor? Keep my mom occupied.” He sent Gene a grim expression. “And if I’m not back in thirty minutes, come look for me, okay?”
“Wait!” Gene gripped Seth’s arm. “You shouldn’t go alone. What if the place is being watched? It could be dangerous. Let me come with you.”
“I need you to stay.” Seth glanced back toward the family room. No one had moved. “If I take you with me, people will notice. Someone will ask why. I won’t be long. I just need to get in, see what’s there, and get out. Quick and quiet.”
Gene’s jaw worked. He didn’t like it—that much was obvious. “It’s risky, kid.”
“It shouldn’t be. Even if someone watched that facility in the past, who would still be doing it after sixteen years? They would either have cleaned the place out by now or given up. Hell, I’m half expecting it to be empty. But I have to see for myself.”
Gene stared at him for a long moment, concern written across his face. Finally, he exhaled hard. “Thirty minutes. Not a second more, or I’m coming after you.”
“Deal.”
“And Seth?” Gene’s expression was grim. “Don’t worry about anything here. I’ll take care of everyone.”
Seth nodded, something loosening in his chest. Gene had his back. Always had. Just like he’d had Dad’s.
“Thanks. It means a lot.”
Gene squeezed his shoulder with a nod, then stepped back.
Then, before he caved in to second thoughts, Seth turned, grabbed his mom’s keys, and darted for the door.
Before he could make a clean break, he heard footsteps stomping behind him.
“Hey!” Matt all but growled. “Hold up.”
Cursing under his breath, Seth worked to get his expression under control before he turned.
Matt shut the front door behind them and gestured toward the driveway. “I’m heading out. Walk with me?”
Seth’s stomach tightened. Normally, he’d think Matt wanted to talk shop, but his brother’s face said otherwise.
“Sure.” He tried to sound casual.
Together, they moved down the steps, stopping beside his mother’s SUV.
Matt leaned against the vehicle, arms crossed. “What’s going on? You’re off today.”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Matt’s tone was patient but firm. “This is me you’re talking to. You’ve been wound tight all morning. I noticed. Beck noticed. What’s bothering you?”
Seth looked away, his jaw working. He could keep lying, but he was already keeping too much from Matt. His brother ran his East Coast office; the arrangement only worked because they trusted each other.
And Seth knew that if he didn’t tread carefully, he’d fuck that up.
On the other hand, he didn’t want to spill this to Matt, get his hopes up, if it turned out to be a big, fat nothing.
“All right. Just between us? Heavenly is pregnant.” Seth managed a smile. “We just found out this morning.”
Instantly, a grin split Matt’s face. He clapped Seth on the shoulder. “Holy shit. That’s incredible, man. How do you feel?”
Seth swallowed, joy and terror warring in his chest. “Excited…mostly, but I won’t lie. I’m scared shitless, too.”
“Of course you are.” Matt squeezed his shoulder. “But you’ve done this before.”
“Not in a long time.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re a great dad,” Matt pointed out.
Seth’s voice dropped. “Am I? The last time...”
“I know.” Matt’s expression sobered. “But you’re doing amazing with Hudson. And this time is different. You’ve got Beck. You’ve got Heavenly, who is definitely not Autumn, thank fuck. And you’re not doing this alone.”
Matt was right—all the way around. And those were precisely the points Heavenly and Beck had made last night.
Unfortunately, that still didn’t stop the fear.
“That’s what I keep telling myself. It’s just…
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be in the position to be a father again.
Hudson shocked the hell out of me, and I’m damn glad now for my teenage stupidity.
He’s a good kid. But a baby?” He rubbed at the back of his suddenly stiff neck.
“I didn’t think I’d ever go down that path again. ”
“I get it. I’d be gun-shy, too. But you’re strong, bro. You got this.”
The confidence and empathy in Matt’s expression nearly undid him. “Thanks.”
“Do you know whose baby it is?” Matt asked.
“No, and we don’t care,” Seth said firmly. “So I’m hoping it doesn’t matter to anyone else.”
“It doesn’t to me.” Matt’s tone was absolute. “If you claim that kid as yours, as far as I’m concerned, he or she is family.”
Relief spread warmth through Seth’s chest. “I appreciate that. Just...keep the news on the down-low for now. Other than Beck and Heavenly, you’re the only one who knows.”
“You got it.” Matt studied him, his gaze shrewd. “Is the pregnancy news what’s got you so twisted up this morning?”
Seth hesitated. The key to the storage unit sat like a boulder in his pocket, pressing against his thigh.
For a moment, he reconsidered telling Matt what their dad had left taped to the back of his dresser…
then swallowed back the admission. No point messing with his brother’s head over what might be nothing.
But if he found something, Matt would be the first to know.
“Yeah. Among other things,” Seth said carefully.
“Other things?” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, telling Mom about Beck?”
Seth forced himself to hold his brother’s gaze. “That’s hanging over my head. It’s not going to be easy. But I need to get through the next twenty-four hours without fucking everything up.”
“You will.” Matt watched him for another beat, clearly debating whether to push. Finally, he nodded. “But if something else is going on—“
“I know where to find you.”
“You do.” Matt nodded. “Good luck.”
Seth’s mouth twisted into something between a grimace and a smile. “Yeah. Gonna need it.”
Matt stepped back toward his car. “See you after you’ve talked to Mom?”
“Yeah. One way…or the other.”
With a wave, Matt climbed into his truck and pulled away from the curb. Seth stood there for a second, watching the taillights disappear, before he slid into his mother’s SUV. He slid the key into the ignition and started the engine.
His hands were shaking.
He gripped the steering wheel and forced himself to breathe. The mini-mart was three blocks away. Orange juice. Simple errand.
Except…what followed might answer over a decade’s worth of questions…or fuck up his life forever.
Seth shut down that seditious train of thought and pulled out of the driveway.
The mini-mart appeared almost too quickly. He parked, grabbed a carton of orange juice from the cooler, and paid without making eye contact with the cashier. Two minutes, tops.
Back in the car, he set the plastic bag on the passenger seat and stared at it. He could go home now, rejoin what was left of the brunch, look toward the future, and stop giving the black yawning chasm of the past his attention.
Except…he couldn’t—not yet.
Seth pulled back onto the road, his pulse picking up again. The storage facility was less than a mile away. He damn near had to pass the place on his way back to the house.
Part of him hoped he’d find nothing but an empty unit. A dead end. That whatever proof his father had hidden was long gone. Then Seth could let it rest, focus on Heavenly and Beck, and their baby. A new house. Hudson. A future that wasn’t full of ghosts.
But the other part—the part that still mourned his dad, his first wife, his trusting infant son—couldn’t let it go, not if he could finally, finally learn who had killed Michael Cooper. And why.
His heart hammered. His hands felt unsteady on the wheel, but he kept driving.
Just grab whatever’s there and read it later. No lingering. Get back to Mom’s before anyone notices.
The storage facility sign came into view, faded letters on a rusted metal gate. The place had been here forever. Seth had driven past it a thousand times and never given it a second thought.
Today, it might change his life.
At the thought, Seth’s stomach plunged, seeming to free fall to his toes.
Anxiety spiked when he turned into the lot and punched in the gate code from the back of the card. Seth half-expected the code wouldn’t work after sixteen years.
The gate creaked open, slow and reluctant. A chill went up his spine, but he shoved it aside.
If someone suspected his dad had hidden something here before his death, they would’ve broken in by now. There’d be nothing left, right?
Right. Besides, almost no one knew he was here. The danger was low.
He could handle this. He wished he had his gun, just in case, but he really shouldn’t need it.
In theory.
Thoughts racing, Seth drove through the lot, parked, and used the key to access the door. Again, he was almost surprised when it turned and the lock disengaged.
Swallowing hard, he stepped into the climate-controlled hallway. Surveillance cameras watched from every corner. He walked quickly, counting unit numbers, until he found it.
His heart jackhammered against his ribs. The air felt too quiet. Too empty.
Seth’s hand shook as he lifted the key to the lock.
In and out. Quick. Easy. Simple. Jet home.
With that reassurance tearing through his thoughts, he slid the key into the padlock.
Holy shit, it turned.
Mouth dry and nerves singing, Seth’s breath caught as the lock disengaged. Its metallic click echoed too loudly in the stillness. He yanked the padlock free and lifted the rolling door just enough to duck underneath.
The space was small. Maybe five by ten. Windowless. Empty—except for a single dusty leather zippered pouch sitting in the center of the concrete floor.
When Seth spotted it, he froze. His stomach coiled tight enough to strangle his lungs.
Fuck. After sixteen years, the evidence his father had left was still there.
His dad had been the last person to touch it.
With shaking hands, he crouched and reached for the pouch. The leather was cracked and stiff, the zipper reluctant. When he finally wrenched it open, his breath stuttered.
Inside, a thick binder dominated. Tucked to one side, a gun that looked like his dad’s old service piece. Cash, bound with rubber bands that had long since disintegrated. And an unmarked video tape, its plastic case yellowed with age.
The contents alone seemed deceptively innocuous. But people had been killed for what might be inside.
And if Nikolai was right, that Seth was being watched, then it was possible he’d just stepped into the shit. Deep.
Fuck, he couldn’t stay here. Every second he stayed in this unit he came a second closer to someone realizing where he was and what he’d found.
Before he left though, he had to know for sure what his dad had left…
Seth fought a cold sweat and positioned himself with his back to the wall, eyes on the open door, escape routes already mapped in his head. Then, heart hammering, he lifted the cover of the binder.
Just enough to see.
His father had been a cop, not someone who indulged in speculation or wild theories. He’d been far too by-the-book and steeped in facts to be paranoid. Whatever he’d left as his final message, he’d known beyond a shadow of a doubt to be true.
The binder creaked before it revealed the first page—a list of names. Typed. Clinical. Some familiar. But then…at the bottom, he saw one name circled, written in his father’s familiar handwriting.
A name that made his blood run cold.
A name his dad had identified as Specter.