Chapter 13 Bit
BIT
For the second time in my short tenure, I requested an emergency meeting of Los Caballeros members, both current and the viejos. The two exceptions were Malcolm Warrick, for obvious reasons, and Michael Oliver, who’d agreed to stay with Eberly.
Zin had agreed to give the legal rundown of her father’s recent actions while I supplied the chain of events Decker Ashford had pieced together.
Brix, who was the eldest member of the current group, led the meeting once those expected arrived.
He prefaced it by saying Warwick had been “missing” for thirty-six hours, and that while Vader had begun his own investigation, he’d encouraged the caballeros—as well as Decker Ashford—to start their own.
Given everyone in the room knew Vader well, it came as no surprise that his suggestion was off the record.
Next, Zin reviewed this afternoon’s legal proceedings, which were met with stunned looks on most of the faces in the room. I hoped what I had to share would mitigate some of it.
“Go ahead, Bit,” said Brix when Zin was finished.
I stood and handed out a printed timeline based on Decker’s estimates.
“As you can see, Malcolm Warwick’s financial troubles began in the months before his wife, Belinda, passed away.
That her death was so closely followed by a global pandemic created what I believe is the perfect storm of what led to his taking out a loan on their home as well as merging Eberly Winery with the Wine Consortium. ”
I gave everyone the chance to look over the handout.
“May I?” Tryst asked.
“Of course.”
He stood. “There is a logical assumption that can be made based on my own experience,” he began.
I watched as he met Baron Van Orr’s gaze.
I realized he too would understand. “I believe my nephew means to suggest that Belinda’s terminal illness may explain the significant cash outlays in the months before she died.
As I can attest, experimental cancer treatment can be quite costly and is rarely covered by insurance. ”
Those in the room murmured their agreement.
Tryst turned to me, then took his seat.
“The same thing occurred to me,” I said.
“Given most of you have known Malcolm for years, there’s little else that makes sense.
There were more murmurs and head nods. “The urgency, now, is finding him, and that is the reason for the emergency meeting. I’ll begin by asking if anyone in the room knows where he is? ”
Instead of nodding, everyone shook their heads or murmured their negative response.
Brix suggested forming teams made up of current and past members to brainstorm where he might have gone. “Bit, if you want to take off, I can give you an update once we have the first steps nailed down.”
I shook my head. “Before I leave, there’s something else I want to address.”
“Go ahead,” prompted my brother.
I cleared my throat. “Anyone who was in attendance at this year’s Wicked Winemakers’ Ball knows that I left suddenly and inexplicably.
” There were a few chuckles. “During the auction, I saw a man come in the side door, not far from the stage, where I stood. He scanned the room, and when our eyes met, I was sure he was the man who’d tried to kill me in these very caves last year.
Subsequently, I learned it wasn’t the same person.
However, they share a unique physical trait that makes me think they’re related. Their eyes.”
Snapper stood, and when I signaled for him to go ahead, he spoke. “I checked, and Eddie Grogan is still in prison. However, as Bit pointed out to me, less than five percent of the world’s population has amber-colored eyes.”
“The man I saw Saturday night has been identified as Tiernan Burke, Eberly Warwick’s former fiancé,” I added. “Ashford is looking for a connection between him and Grogan as well as between him and either FAIM or the Killeens.”
“Someone who obviously wasn’t arrested in the FBI raid last year,” said Brix.
“That’s right,” Snapper responded. “One possibility is he may have been in prison on other charges at the time. I’ll research that angle.”
“Since Vader caught him on surveillance footage, I’m assuming he was also able to see the vehicle,” said my youngest brother, Rascon, who everyone called Kick.
“I believe so,” Snapper responded.
“So we should be able to track him.”
“We are,” said Brix. “At least the vehicle he was in that night.”
I raised my head. How did he know this when I didn’t?
“So far, it appears he’s lying low or using a different vehicle. Ashford has his team monitoring video surveillance for both vehicle and man,” Brix added.
I wouldn’t waste time now, but when I was able to speak with Brix alone, I’d ask why I hadn’t been made aware of any of what he’d just said.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Tryst motioning to me. When I acknowledged him, he stood.
“What you’re suggesting is this man may have ties to the Irish mafia as well as something to do with Malcolm’s disappearance and the fraud he’s allegedly committed?” he asked.
Zin spoke up. “We’re speculating, but, for now, any theories we come up with are worth pursuing.”
Tryst murmured his agreement.
“Unless anyone else has something to add, I believe that’s it for now,” I said after thanking everyone for showing up on such short notice.
Brix and Tryst walked me out.
“You wanna explain what went on in there?” I asked Brix.
“You and I both received an update from Decker during the meeting. Since you were leading it, I was able to review it first.”
His response left me feeling like an asshole for confronting him, except not enough to apologize. He could’ve led with that information before he responded to Snapper and Kick. “How is Eberly?” my uncle asked.
“Worried, as you’d expect she’d be.”
He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I have known Malcolm since we were younger than you are now. He is a good man and a better friend. While his actions may seem unfathomable, I am proud of you for presenting Decker’s timeline with such grace.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
My siblings and I were each close to our father’s brother in our own way.
We all confided in him, turned to him for advice, and accepted the comfort few could offer in the way he did.
There was no one in my life I was closer to.
Tryst knew about my struggles both before and after I was attacked.
He also knew about the control I had to maintain in order to stave off the depression and anxiety I was so often plagued with.
His validation always meant the world to me but especially when my self-doubt and insecurity were more acute.
After I embraced him, Brix stepped forward. “I owe you an apology,” he said.
“Yeah? What for?”
“Being an asshole for the last thirty-three years.”
I chuckled. “You’ve got seven years on me, brother. I doubt you were any better before I was born.”
He laughed too. “You’re probably right.”
“If you’ll both excuse me,” said Tryst, motioning in the direction of the room we’d come out of.
“Of course,” I responded.
“Look, I want to say you’ve really impressed me these last few weeks, but it sounds condescending as hell,” said Brix.
“You’re right. It does.”
“I have a lot of respect for you, Bit, and I’m sorry I haven’t been good about saying so.”
I raised a brow. “That sounds more like your wife talking than you.”
He laughed a second time. “While Addison is definitely a good influence on me, I promise that this time, my words are my own.”
“I appreciate it.”
He returned to the room like Tryst had, and I began the slow walk out of the wine caves. With each step that took me closer to where two men had ambushed me and left me for dead, my legs and feet became heavier, as though I wore weights around my ankles that became increasingly harder to bear.
“Hey, Bit,” I heard my brother Cru call from behind me. I knew his intent and was relieved to not have to walk the rest of the way alone. I stopped where I was and waited for him. Rather than put his hand on my shoulder like Tryst had, Cru walked beside me.
“There’s something I want to ask you,” he said when we were within a foot of the entrance to the room where the attack took place.
“Go ahead.”
“I was wondering if you’d consider being my best man.”
When we stepped outside the cave’s entrance, I turned to face him. “Are you sure?” I asked.
“There’s no one I want standing by my side more than you, brother.”
“I’m honored.” When he held out his hand to shake mine, I pulled him into an embrace instead. “Thank you, Enzo.”
He patted my back. “Thank you, Trevino.”
As I walked to my truck, I noticed his parked beside mine. “You heading home?” I asked.
“I can’t stay away. I missed Daphne so fucking much.”
His eyes met mine, and for the first time in my life, I understood how he felt. I ached being away from Eberly even for the length of the brief meeting. She said she feared I’d get bored with her. I was far more worried she’d get sick of me. I smiled. “I get it.”