Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“ J ust say it.”
“Say what?”
Ian blew out a breath and shoved his free hand into the bag of chips. “I know you’re thinking this is a bad idea. You’ve been thinking it since I told you.”
“If I thought it was a bad idea, would I be coming with you?”
Ian snorted and cast a quick glance in his partner’s direction. “Yeah, you definitely would. If for no other reason than to tell me I told you so.”
Marissa gathered her hair up into a bun and left it at the top of her head. “It is a bad idea, but I’m not coming with you so I can tell you I told you so. I’m coming because that’s what a good partner does.”
Guilt churned in the center of Ian’s stomach.
He hadn’t been fair to Marissa lately, but it was only because he didn’t want to endanger her. Too many people were in the line of fire already, and the last thing he wanted was to have his actual partner in crime be in danger.
Ian would never forgive himself if he did that to Marissa, not when they’d been partners for years and friends for much longer.
Nothing mattered more to him than keeping the people he loved safe.
It was exactly why he’d agreed to go on a three-hour drive, to a town he’d heard very little about, to meet up with a contact who had information about his mother’s case. While a part of him doubted the validity of the information he was going to get, the other part of him was impatient to throw the case wide open.
Ian wanted it to be the break he was waiting for, but he knew better than to get his hopes up, so he settled back against his seat and rolled his shoulders. Then he wiped his hands on the front of his jeans and lowered his sunglasses.
Ahead of him, the road was fairly empty except for a few other cars. The trees on either side all blurred together, but he paid them no attention.
All he could think about was the phone call he got last night and how excited he’d been. Not even a sleepy and disoriented Lucy had dissuaded him. Instead, he’d made the call to Marissa to convince her to join him, and it was how the two of them ended up on a three-hour road trip with plenty of snacks and country music playing on the radio.
This better pan out, or you’ll have wasted an entire day for nothing.
“Where are we meeting him again?”
“This bus stop in the middle of town.”
“Yeah, that’s not suspicious in the least.” Marissa popped a bag of chips open and snorted. “Doesn’t that make you worried at all?”
“I’ll take whatever chance I can get to find new evidence for my mom’s case. Wouldn’t you?”
He felt Marissa’s eyes on his face, quiet and contemplative. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know. You’re a lot more patient than I am.”
“I think you’ve had too much caffeine. Why don’t you close your eyes and sleep? We should be there in an hour.”
Marissa pushed her chair back and folded her arms over her chest.
Alone with his thoughts, Ian had no idea what to do with himself. He gripped the steering wheel, fiddled with the radio stations, and wiped crumbs off of his collar. Finally, he sat up straighter, secured his earpieces, and listened to the audiobook playing on his phone.
Once they reached the city limits, Ian pulled his car up by the side of the road. He paused the audiobook, took out his phone, and texted the contact. Moments later, a black car came up out of the forest, and a dark-haired man in his forties, in trousers and a button-down shirt, came out.
He leaned against the car’s hood and folded his arms over his chest.
Marissa adjusted her seat and pulled her glasses down over her face. “It’s showtime.”
“Last chance to sit this out.”
“Not a chance,” Marissa replied before pushing her door open. “We’re in this together, partner. Besides, I don’t want to answer to Lucy if things go wrong.”
Ian swallowed past the lump in his throat.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he got out of the car and approached the man. In silence, the man handed him a brown folder full of papers. It was full of pictures of his mom, Eric Taylor, a baby-faced Lily, and a few blacked-out documents.
“What is all of this?”
“Your mom was building a case against her ex-husband. She managed to gather enough evidence to prove that her ex was receiving bribes and looking the other way when it came to certain cases.”
Ian’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t see any of that here.”
The man removed his sunglasses and hooked them up to his shirt. Dark brown eyes set against a taut face regarded Ian thoughtfully. “My father was the PI who took on your mom’s case. He didn’t have a lot of faith he’d be able to dig anything up, but Eric got too comfortable and too lazy.”
Ian snapped the folder shut and stood up straighter. “What does that mean?”
“It means my father was able to dig up the evidence.”
Ian frowned. “Look, no offense, Mr.—”
“Bryce Rolland.”
“No offense, Mr. Rolland, but why isn’t your father telling me this himself? As the PI in charge of the case, he’ll be the one able to tell me where all the bodies are buried.”
Bryce stiffened, and a shadow settled over his face. “I’d love to help you, Mr. Railings, but unfortunately, my father isn’t up to speaking to anyone at the moment.”
“Why did you reach out then?”
“Because I heard through the grapevine that you were looking into your mother’s case, and I wanted to reach out and tell you what I know.”
Ian held the folder out and shook his head. “This doesn’t really help me with anything. You dragged us all the way out here, so the least you can do is set up a meeting with your father.”
Bryce studied Ian, his expression growing more and more solemn. “I’d like to, but like I said, he’s indisposed.”
Ian made a low, strangled noise in the back of his throat. “So, this was all for nothing?”
“He’s in a nursing home,” Bryce told Ian with a lift of his chin. “Early-onset Alzheimer’s. Even if I wanted to set up a meeting, it wouldn’t do you any good. I doubt he’d remember anything about the case. He can barely remember my name most days.”
Ian felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.
He shouldn’t have pushed the man this hard, especially when he didn’t have all of the facts.
Ian felt like an absolute idiot for not picking up on the hints. “I’m sorry.”
Bryce nodded stiffly. “So am I. I’ll look into my father’s old case files and see if there’s anything I can dig up, but it’s been years. He might not have kept any kind of records at all.”
Ian exchanged a quick glance with Marissa. “If I investigate Eric, will I be able to dig up the same kind of evidence?”
“He’s probably a lot more careful now. Getting caught once would’ve been enough for Eric Taylor to secure his information and cover his footprints.”
Ian glanced away and let out a harsh breath, knots tightening in his stomach. “So, what now?”
Bryce placed his glasses back on and pushed himself off the hood of the car. “Now, we keep in touch. Between the two of us, we should be able to dig something up.”
Ian searched Bryce’s face. “Why are you doing this?”
“My father used to talk about this case a lot. I think it’s the one that stayed with him, and it still haunts him. I want to give him the chance to put this to bed once and for all. And I don’t like men like Eric. They get away with too much.”
Ian nodded and held his hand out. “Thank you.”
Bryce hesitated before taking Ian’s hand in his and giving him a firm shake. Wordlessly, Bryce spun on his heel and went back into his car. Ian waited until he drove off, the car kicking up dirt and dust as it did. Marissa pried the car keys out of his hand and went to the driver’s side. Ian kept his head lowered and ducked into the passenger door.
“We’ll find something,” Marissa told him before starting the car. “We just need to keep looking. Keep your chin up, Railings.”
Ian brought his head to rest against the glass and squeezed his eyes shut.
When the car came to a stop, Ian jolted awake and realized they were back in Falmouth. In a daze, he stepped out of the car and shook his arms and legs.
Then he heard Marissa say something into the radio and stick her head out of the glass. “We just got called in to break up a fight at O’Malley’s. You up for it?”
Ian ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, let’s go.”
A few blocks away, they pulled up to a stop outside O’Malley’s and pushed their way through the crowd. Marissa led the charge while Ian followed at a leisurely pace, still trying to shake off sleep and the bad taste in his mouth because of their meeting with the PI’s son. Once they reached the group of guys yelling and shoving each other, Ian stepped forward.
A fist came flying out of nowhere, and his head snapped to the side.
He’d been too distracted to see it coming.
Marissa’s hand was on his arm, and she was saying something, but he couldn’t make sense of it. His ears were ringing, and he tasted blood on the tip of his tongue. Then he was punched again, this time in the stomach, and it knocked the breath out of him. Still, Ian couldn’t stop thinking about his mother’s case or what Bryce Rolland had told him. When a third punch nearly knocked him back, all he saw was Jake’s smug face. Then it was replaced by Eric Taylor’s smirk, prompting Ian to launch himself at one of the guys, a short, stout man with a beer belly and wisps of hair on his forehead.
It wasn’t until Marissa pried him off that he realized what was happening.
How had he gotten so distracted that he’d let them get under his skin—like some kind of rookie?
“Thank God you’re here, Dean. Take him for a walk,” Marissa barked out, her eyes tightening around the edges. “I’ll take care of things here, and I’ve already called for backup.”
Ian grumbled under his breath but allowed his son to lead him away.
Dean drove around the half-empty streets of the city till they reached the harbor. “It’s a good thing I was stopping by to see if you wanted dinner.”
Ian pressed his lips together and didn’t respond.
He hated he’d let those men get under his skin, but what he hated even more was Dean had seen his father lose control like that when he shouldn’t have to.
Dean was still driving around, with one arm on the steering wheel and the other hanging out the window. “You can talk to me, you know. Those idiots totally had it coming.”
Ian grunted and folded his arms over his chest because he still had nothing to say.
Nothing that would make Dean understand, and it wasn’t his son’s burden to carry anyway.
Dean pulled up to an empty parking spot and got out. Ian waited for a few moments before he joined his son on the bench overlooking the crystal blue waters.
“This is about Grandma’s case, isn’t it?”
Ian shoved both his hands into his pockets. “Let’s just sit here.”
Dean nodded and pressed his lips together.
In silence, Ian studied the steady stream of people rushing past in either direction. He looked up at the evening sun, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the warmth on the bridge of his nose. On their way back, Dean stopped by the Chinese restaurant they all loved. He came back with bags of take-out containers and a distracted smile.
When they went back home, Lucy’s car was in the driveway, and it made some of the knots in Ian’s stomach unfurl. He called out to her when he stepped in through the door. Then he found her curled up on the couch, fast asleep, her expression smooth and untroubled. With a sigh, Ian hoisted Lucy up and carried her into their room. After tucking the covers around her, he switched off the light and lingered in the doorway.
Things are going to get better, Luce. You’ll see. I promise.