Chapter Twenty #2
For William to bring her up now—if he'd wanted Aiden on his side, he'd just lost his shot. I was getting ready to intervene, not liking the deadly look in Aiden's eyes, when the door to my office opened and Tate stepped inside, his dark blue eyes narrowed and his jaw set.
Closing the door carefully behind him, he said in a low voice, "Just so you know, your shouting woke Abigail up, and she's in the kitchen. We can hear everything you're saying."
God dammit.
Fuck.
She would be appalled and humiliated. I was going to kill William. And I was pissed at myself. I should have realized she might have woken up, should have thought before we raised our voices.
Ignoring Aiden and William, I looked at Tate. "Is she all right?"
Tate shrugged. "She seems to be fine, but I get the feeling that Abigail could pull off dignified and collected in the middle of a tornado, so I don't really know. Holden invited Emily and Jo up, and Vance is charming her, so she's distracted."
Changing the subject before I could respond, he said, "Did you show them the picture?"
Fuck.
Why could my fucking family never keep their noses in their own business?
Except a photograph of Tate's mother and father's murder was his business.
I still didn't know what to make of it, and Cooper had come up blank. I'd tried to write it off as an isolated incident, some sick asshole getting his jollies, but that didn't sit right.
I went around to the other side of my desk and opened the top drawer, withdrawing the envelope that contained the photograph.
"Someone we haven't been able to identify got through security and slid this under my door a few days ago."
I opened the envelope and slid the photograph out, glancing at Tate as the image was revealed. His eyes went dark with the same shock and pain I'd seen the first time he'd been confronted with the picture of his parents’ bodies.
It wasn't easy for me to look at it either, and I remembered them better than he did. But, they weren't my parents. Almost as good as, since we'd all grown up together, but I knew if I were looking at a picture of my own parents’ murder, I'd feel even more torn up than I did right now.
"Tate, you don't have to—"
With a jerk of his shoulder, he said, "It's fine."
It wasn't fine, but Tate was a grown man and it wasn't my job to tell him what he could handle. I nodded and laid the picture down on my desk.
Aiden reached out to flick on my desk lamp, aiming the bulb directly at the photograph. His face, as I would've expected, was unreadable. Also, as I would have expected, William's was an open book.
His eyes were comically wide, his face pale. Voice shaking, he demanded, "How did you get this? Who gave this to you?"
Ignoring William’s questions, Aiden asked, "Fingerprints?"
I shook my head. "Nothing. Whoever delivered it didn't know exactly where the cameras were in the hallways, but they must have known they were there, somewhere, because they wore a long coat and a wig.
We've got photos, but it's impossible to tell much more than general height and build, though even that could be part of the disguise. "
"And you've received nothing else? No other communication? No threats?" Aiden asked, his eyes probing mine, demanding truth.
I might hedge with my brother about Abigail, but I wouldn't about this. I shook my head again.
"Nothing. It doesn't make any sense."
Unable to look at the picture any longer, I picked it up and slid it back into the envelope. Tate, standing beside me, his posture stiff and his shoulders tight, visibly relaxed as the image of his dead parents slid out of sight.
If I didn't worry we'd need it, I'd burn the damn thing. But until we understood who had delivered it and why, and what they might want from us, it seemed smarter to keep it around.
"Bizarre," Aiden said. I could see the gears turning in his brain as he considered the problem.
William said nothing. He stood there between Tate and Aiden, his eyes still wide with shock, his face white as if he'd seen a ghost. Which, in a way, he had.
Abruptly, he blinked and said, "I have to go."
He turned on his heel and rushed out of my office, almost as if he were being chased. Odd. William lecturing me on appropriate behavior was to be expected, but his reaction to the photograph was weird.
By the confused expressions on their faces, Aiden and Tate agreed with me. Something to deal with later.
"We need to tell everyone else about the picture," Tate said.
"No." Aiden's face was hard and uncompromising. "No one needs to see that."
"They have a right to know," Tate insisted.
"Not Charlotte or Annalise."
Aiden crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Tate. Tate threw his hands in the air in exasperation.
"Newsflash, Aiden. The girls aren't children, and they don't need you to protect them from life."
I could hear Aiden grinding his teeth as Tate went on, "I know you want to handle everything, and you still think of Holden and me and the girls as children, but we're not.
We're all adults, and this is part of our life.
Holden and I run two successful companies, Charlotte works for you, and Annalise travels the globe with her camera.
We deserve to be treated as equals. Don't shut us out. "
Aiden shook his head in resignation. "Fine. But not today. I want to talk to Cooper, and I want to think about this before we discuss it with everyone else."
Probably surprised Aiden had caved so quickly, Tate said, "All right."
"Are we good here?" I asked, impatient to get to Abigail and make sure she was holding up. She was still weak, and my family could be overwhelming.
"I'm good," Tate said, "Especially if you're not planning to kick us out before dinner is ready."
I hadn't noticed until he'd mentioned it, but the scent of garlic and tomatoes had wafted into my office when William had opened the door.
Was Abigail cooking? She was supposed to be resting, not cooking for the horde of Winters and girlfriends who'd descended on her.
I didn't wait for Aiden to respond to my question before heading out to Abigail.
Aiden would make up his own mind, and unlike William, I could trust him to treat Abigail graciously, even if he sided with William and wanted her gone.
I didn't think that was going to happen. Oddly, Abigail had more in common with Aiden than almost anyone else I knew.
They both hid their feelings behind a mask of dignity and reserve, relying on manners in difficult situations. They both loved nothing so much as their family and would sacrifice anything to keep the people they loved safe.
William was distracted by meaningless gossip and old scandal. He was family, but he wasn't a Winters. We'd lived through scandal and gossip and come out the other side, not once, but twice.
We could survive it a third time if it came to that. I sure as hell wasn't going to sacrifice Abigail because I was afraid of what people would say.
If I were that weak, I didn't deserve her.