Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
“ U nless it’s Lucy or the kids, don’t answer the phone,” Jeff warned, pausing to give Ian a withering look over his shoulder. “Come on, man. It’s been too long since we’ve all hung out like this, and you don’t have a shift tomorrow.”
“It could be important.” Ian set down his mug of beer on an empty table and fished his phone out of his pocket.
Before he could check who it was, Jonathan swooped in and plucked the phone out of his hands. He tucked it into his back pocket and folded his arms over his chest, giving Ian his most menacing look.
Ian snorted. “That didn’t work on me when we were kids. What makes you think it’s going to work on me now?”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m bigger and stronger.”
Ian threw his head back and laughed. “You want to bet?”
“Bring it on, Railings. I could take you on when you were a kid, and I can still take you on as an adult.”
Jeff brought the beer up to his lips and took a long swig. “I don’t like those odds, man. Ian’s a cop now. You know how hard they train and how much exercise they get in.”
“Realtors train too.” Jonathan rolled his shoulders and held his arms up on either side of him. “Let’s just make sure O’Malley doesn’t catch us, or he’ll kick us all out.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “I’ll be on the lookout.”
Jonathan lunged at Ian. He held himself perfectly still until his cousin was close, then he took a step to the side and held a leg out. Jonathan kept himself from tripping, scowled, and spun around to face Ian, an exasperated gleam in his eyes. Then, the two of them were spinning in a circle, with Ian being held in a headlock by his much larger and much stronger cousin.
He had definitely underestimated Jonathan.
Being a realtor at Wilson Realty suited him, and he was in surprisingly good shape for someone who didn’t like to exercise. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he shoved Jonathan away and staggered back, nearly landing backward on a table. The couple sitting a few feet away from them grumbled, and Ian offered them an apology.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw O’Malley, the owner of the pub, in a button-down shirt, jeans, and a tightness around his eyes. “You know the rules, fellas. No fighting in the pub. You got issues, take it outside, or take it out on the dartboard.”
Jonathan dusted himself off and grinned. “No fights here, Mr. O’Malley, just a bunch of cousins roughhousing. That’s all.”
“No roughhousing either,” O’Malley said with a quick look between the three of them. “You should know better, Ian.”
Ian grimaced and looked away. “Yeah, you’re right. I should.”
When Mr. O’Malley walked away, his cousins flapped their arms at their sides and made clucking noises. Ian scowled and lunged, but they hid behind a table. Once they felt Mr. O’Malley’s patience wearing thin, the three of them lined up in front of the dartboard in a secluded part of the pub near the bathroom and stopped trying to goad each other.
Country music played through the overhead speakers while the three of them took shots and drank beer. By his third beer, Ian had a pleasant buzz, and he had all but forgotten about his phone until Jonathan fished it out of his pocket and handed it over with a roll of his eyes.
Ian’s easygoing smile vanished when he saw the message on his screen.
“What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Jeff peered over his shoulder and frowned. “Is that the PI’s son that you were telling us about? The one with the evidence?”
“He said he’d check his father’s old case files. I guess he found something.” Ian read the message again and ignored the quickening of his pulse. “Tomorrow’s my day off. I’ll drive down and meet him.”
“Looks like we’re going on a road trip.” Jonathan gestured to a red-haired waitress and made a sweeping hand gesture. “Another round of drinks, please.”
“We?” Ian shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked at his cousins, bathed in the dim, fluorescent lighting of the pub.
Over their shoulders, he spotted his uncle Frankie seated at the bar, a beer in one hand and peanuts in the other. He waved at them before his expression turned grim. After taking another swig of his beer, he strode over to where they stood and clapped Ian on the back.
Uncle Frankie took another sip of his drink. “We should take my car. It gets better mileage.”
“Yeah, we’re not going to let you go alone,” Jonathan told him, pausing to take a long sip of his beer. “You can pass by and pick us up in the morning.”
Ian exhaled. “You guys aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope. So, you might as well make your peace with it.” Jeff picked up a dart and aimed it; it landed directly in the middle. “What’s your policy on snacks in the car?”
“I can talk to him,” Uncle Frankie offered, meeting Ian’s gaze in the rearview mirror. He rolled the windows and shivered. “I know how to handle guys like that.”
Ian shook his head and turned up the heater. “Don’t worry, Uncle Frankie. I’ve got this.”
Having his two cousins and Uncle Frankie along wasn’t a part of the plan.
And the last thing he wanted was to scare Bryce Rolland into thinking he was being ambushed. It had been a week since their last meeting, and Ian had already given up hope and done everything he could to push it all to the back of his mind.
Receiving that text had been a stroke of good luck, and when he spotted Bryce’s car parked next to the town’s bus stop, he couldn’t help the thrum of excitement that pulsed through him. He exchanged a quick look with his cousins and uncle before unbuckling his seat belt and pushing the door open.
Bryce stood in the same position as before, with his arms folded over his chest, leaning against the hood of the car. Without taking off his sunglasses, he handed Ian the folder and straightened his back. Then he got into the car and drove off, leaving Ian with his mouth hanging open and an incredulous look on his face.
On the drive back to Falmouth, Ian kept flipping through the folder, each time hoping the evidence was different. No matter how many times he went through the paperwork, everything stayed exactly the same. While a part of him was relieved to find the firm Eric worked for had quite the rap sheet, he was frustrated none of it pointed to Eric.
What good was any of this if he couldn’t use it to stop Eric in his tracks?
Ian sat in the back seat, next to Jeff’s loud snoring, and took his phone out of his pocket. Bryce’s phone kept going straight to voicemail, leaving Ian with a frustrated and bad feeling in the center of his stomach. He kept studying the folder till he realized Uncle Frankie had taken a detour and was headed straight for Provincetown.
Wordlessly, Ian squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the chair.
His stomach tightened, and Ian had to sit on his hands to hide the tremor moving through him. Unfortunately, the longer he sat there, the worse he felt about the whole thing, but it didn’t ease the knots in his stomach.
Or the dryness in his throat.
He alternated between staring out the window and glaring at his phone.
When they pulled up outside Herring Cove Beach house, Ian stiffened and peered out the window. Lily and Ben appeared in the doorway, waving at them enthusiastically. As soon as he saw his sister, Ian’s stomach gave an odd little dip. He forced himself out of the car and walked straight up to her. She threw her arms around him, smelling of cinnamon and ginger, and gave him a tight hug.
Ian released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Thank God you’re not mad at me. I’m sorry that I’m digging into your dad.”
Lily drew back to look at him and gave him an apologetic smile. “ I’m the one who should be apologizing. I had no idea what was happening till Uncle Frankie called. I’ve been trying to get him on the phone since then.”
Ice raced up Ian’s spine. “Him?”
“My dad.” Lily ushered them all inside, where a tray of iced tea, cookies, and sandwiches was laid out. Jeff and Jonathan began to stuff their faces as soon as they sat down. “I’m going to try and help you find some answers.”
Ian glanced over at Uncle Frankie, who stood near the backdoor with Ben. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“We need answers,” Lily told him, lifting her chin. “And if there’s anything I can do to help, I’m going to do it.”
Before Ian could protest, Lily took the phone out of her pocket and went to the kitchen counter. She perched against the edge of the high chair, a furrow appearing between her brows. Ian went to stand next to her and ignored the low thrumming in his chest.
Lily’s hands were trembling when she placed her phone on the counter and put it on speaker, allowing Eric’s cold voice to fill the room. “What do you want? I thought you said you were done with me.”
Lily sucked in a harsh breath and looked over at Ian, who placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I need to know what actually happened to my mother.”
“Again with this? When are you going to stop chasing conspiracy theories and grow up? I see your mother’s family hasn’t taught you anything useful.”
“Stop changing the subject and answer me. How were you involved with Mom’s murder?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Just like you weren’t involved with that thug the police caught? Dad, please. It’s not too late to make things right and own up to what you’ve been doing. I can even help you—”
“I don’t need your help,” Eric told her coldly. “No daughter of mine would treat me the way you have.”
“How about the way you’ve treated me and everyone else? How about what you did to Mom, huh? I know you were involved with her death somehow, and I’m going to prove it.”
“ You spoiled, ungrateful little brat . After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? I should come over there right now and teach you a lesson.”
“That’s enough,” Ben interrupted, materializing by Lily’s side and taking her hands in his. “All due respect, Mr. Taylor, you can’t talk to Lily that way. She hasn’t done anything wrong. All she’s done is try to give you a chance to prove everyone wrong and do the right thing.”
“I don’t know who you think you are, but this is none of your concern.”
“Anything that involves Lily is my concern,” Ben responded without missing a beat. “I’m not going to stand aside and let you talk to her like that.”
A heartbeat later, Eric hung up, and Lily burst into tears.
Ben scooped her into his arms and stroked her back.
When her tears subsided, she turned tear-filled eyes to Ian. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry you had to do that. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been.”
Or how much it must’ve hurt to hear her father say all of those things.
Ian suddenly realized that coming here was a bad idea, but it was too late to take it back.
Lily and Ben insisted on feeding them, but Ian couldn’t touch any of the food. He was all too relieved to get back in the car an hour later and continue their drive back to Falmouth.
Lily’s grief-stricken face remained with him during the drive back.
As soon as they passed the city limits, Ian’s other phone went off. “I need you to drop me off at the station, Uncle Frankie.”
Uncle Frankie pulled up next to the curb outside the station and twisted to face his nephew. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get him. You’re not alone, kid.”
Ian gave him an unconvincing smile. “Thank you all for coming with me today. I’m sorry it was a bust.”
He kept his head ducked as he hurried out of the car and raced up the stairs, never once looking back.
You need to stop dragging people into this mess before it’s too late.