Chapter 41 #3
A coy smile plays on Connor’s face as we trade places, him entering the elevator as we invade Eamon’s home.
For a moment, a similar expression paints Eamon’s features.
A look two people share, when they know each other intimately.
Connor nods to us as the shiny doors to the elevator close, leaving the three of us alone.
Cindel and I regard each other. How the fuck did we both miss this? Of course, Eamon has moved on from Theo. It’s been three years. Good for him. Connor’s a stand-up guy.
“So… how long has this been going on?” Eamon ask, now leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed in an assessing stance.
Cindel fiddles with the bottom of her hoodie, while I settle onto a seat at the fancy marble island. “Oh. Well, it’s umm… it’s relatively new?”
She’s fucking adorable when she gets like this.
Eamon looks at me, gauging if I could be more than what I appear. If only he knew. He turns his attention back to Cindel.
“I suppose with you learning more about the past, it was only a matter of time before you discovered my motives with you were purely transactional. Forgive me for courting you under false pretenses. I was trying to keep you safe.” He looks sincere yet full of regret.
“You're too good for any of us, Cindel.”
The comment instantly sends heat crawling up my neck. Okay, enough of the kumbaya bullshit. We don’t need to state the obvious right now.
“Eamon.” Cindel all but reads the room, steering the conversation elsewhere. “The evidence I told you about. It was a microSD card… it’s broken. Jada—”
Eamon holds up a hand, cutting her off mid-sentence. “I know. Garron told me. He’s the one your boy-toy called in, to clean up.”
Cindel bites her bottom lip at the pet name. I’ve always known Eamon was a smart guy. I should have figured he’d know about us, before we ever got here. Cindel moves to my side before she continues.
“Andrea’s been taken. I think it was Mairead.”
Eamon leans forward, placing his hands upon the massive polished counter between us.
“I have no doubt that she’s behind this.
My father’s gone off the deep end… ever since my mother died.
As soon as he was back in town, I put a tracker in a box of cigars I gave him.
He doesn’t go long without one, so wherever he goes, I know he has his trusty box of smokes.
I can show you where he’s taken your roommate.
” He opens an app on his phone, displaying a map of the area.
A green dot is positioned on the other side of town, looks to be in the old club district.
“Eamon, I don’t know how to prove my family didn’t kill your mother. The only proof I had is ruined. It was the only thing I found in Thelma’s hide.” Cindel begins to pace the length of the room. We watch in silence as she darts back and forth across the kitchen.
Eamon rubs at his five o’clock shadow, before he asks, “You found the drive in Thelma’s tank?”
She nods.
His face is difficult to read. “Come on.” His words are rushed as he grabs a jacket off the back of a chair. “My sister can be a wicked thing when she has someone beneath her knife.”
Any progress I’ve made at helping Cindel return to her usual coloring has reverted, thanks to Eamon’s dark premonition.
She resembles an animatronic as we make our way back out to my car, simply functioning but without resolve.
I could care less that Eamon is on board, because I’ve been waiting for the right time to play this song for Cindel.
When I was on my way to Mail Haven, I planned for the worst. However, when I found her upright, alive, and capable of shrink wrapping someone till suffocation; I knew I’d found my soulmate, then and there.
Connecting the Bluetooth through an updated sound system, I queue up the ideal song, Deftones - “Change.” I can see one of Eamon’s eyebrows lift from the rear-view mirror, but he knowingly keeps his mouth shut.
Cindel is uncommunicative, gazing through the window as we make our way to the location on Eamon’s map.
I park far enough away, so we aren’t seen upon approach.
Following Eamon through an alley between two brick buildings, he enters the building first through a back door.
Cindel enters next, followed by me. Noiselessly, we navigate the dark halls filled with stacked stools, tables, and wooden crates of dust covered bottles.
As we venture deeper into the building, we start to hear voices.
When we reach a turn, Eamon stops. He motions for me to look around the corner as well.
Cindel remains a few steps behind as I move forward to see just beyond.
Eamon and I must share a similar look of dismay, because I never would have anticipated this.
Andrea’s silver hair shakes from side to side as she sits cross-legged upon a desk, with Mairead opposite her. An open box of pizza sits between them, while they share a laugh about god knows what. Patrick, their revered father, is asleep on a tattered couch on the other side of the room.
Cindel pushed past us, blurting out the question we all have on our minds, “What the fuck?!”