Chapter 26 #2
“Especially as that cave was damn hard to get to,” Mitch added. “We had to rappel down the cliff to get back into the cave.”
“Maybe he didn't die in the crash?” Bella suggested, shrugging.
My mind worked through the possibilities. “So, after the crash, he somehow gets to the cave, and then someone whacks him over the head?”
The implication hung heavily in the air.
I turned my gaze back to the suitcase, studying the H more closely. Recognition clicked into place. “Oh shit. I know where I've seen that insignia.”
I stood. “In my office. In Frank's old contract files.”
I strode into the hallway, heading for my office.
Pounding feet followed behind me. The last rays of sunset slanted through the blinds as I yanked open the bottom drawer of one of six filing cabinets in my office, four of which were full of Frank's shit—stuff he'd warned me not to waste my time going through.
But that had been a red flag, so I'd gone through it anyway, only to learn it was a waste of damn time because most of the paperwork seemed like pure bullshit. I did end up reorganizing the files into an order that actually made sense, though.
And now, knowing exactly what I was looking for, maybe the effort hadn’t been a waste of time after all.
Kayden put the suitcase down next to my ancient office desk, and my brothers and sister crowded behind me as I rummaged through the crammed drawers. It took less than five minutes to find the contract. “Here it is.” I pulled out the file, and my office chair creaked as I sat behind my desk.
I opened the folder, and the very first page bore the same distinctive H insignia as the one on the leather suitcase. “Hawthorne Global,” I said, turning the contract around to show them.
Kayden lifted the suitcase onto my desk, and we all compared the logo.
“See. It’s a perfect match,” I said, frowning.
“What's the contract for?” Mitch asked.
I scanned the page, memory clicking into place. “That’s right. Thirty-seven years ago, Frank tried to sell a section of Koolaroo land to Hawthorne Global.”
“Bullshit. Sell Koolaroo land?” Mitch scowled. “No way Frank was doing that.”
“I don't think the sale went through,” I said.
“Maybe because the bloke buying it ended up in that cave,” Kayden said.
We all swung our gazes to him.
Kayden raised his hands. “I'm just trying to join the dots like you guys.”
“Frank's business dealings were always murky,” I said, glancing at Bella, wondering if now was the right time to reveal what I knew about the mine sabotage. “Maybe there's a good reason this one fell through.”
“Hey, there's a phone number.” Cassidy pointed at the top of the contract. “Let’s ring it.” She plucked the contract from my hands, pulled her phone from her back pocket, dialed the number, and put it on speaker.
It rang four times before clicking. “Hawthorne Global,” a female voice answered with an American accent. “How may I direct your call?”
We all jumped. None of us had expected an answer.
Cassidy shoved the phone at Mitch and jabbed a finger at him, mouthing talk.
“Hello, I'm calling from Australia,” Mitch said. “I'm trying to reach someone who might have information about a suitcase we found.”
“From Australia, you say?” Her voice was crisp and professional.
“That's correct.”
“One moment, please.” The line went silent except for faint hold music.
We exchanged uncertain glances. Cassidy mouthed hang up, but Mitch waved her off.
The line clicked. “This is Xavier Hawthorne.” The man spoke with a strong American accent. “I understand you're calling from Australia about a suitcase?”
“That's right,” Mitch said.
“And who am I speaking with?”
Mitch met my gaze, then shrugged. “Frank Branson,” he said.
All our jaws dropped. We glared at him.
Why the hell did he say that?
“Frank Branson,” Xavier repeated slowly, as if trying to recall the name. “What's this about a suitcase, Mr. Branson?”
“We found the suitcase in a plane wreck that crashed about thirty-five years ago.”
“Thirty-five years ago? We didn't even operate internationally back then. What would the suitcase have to do with Hawthorne Global?”
“The suitcase has an H insignia that matches some old business contracts we have.”
A long pause stretched down the line.
“Are you there?” Mitch asked, staring at the phone.
“Yes. It’s just, although Hawthorne Global is a multinational company, I can assure you with absolute certainty we have no dealings in Australia.”
I leaned closer to the phone. “Are you sure?” I risked the question. “The insignia is very distinctive.”
“I'm sure,” Xavier said. “Though I have to admit, this is very strange. Can you send a photo of the suitcase to my cell phone?” He rattled off his phone number, and I quickly jotted it down.
Cassidy grabbed the phone, snapped a photo of the suitcase, and sent it.
While we waited, the four of us exchanged glances. The excitement in the room was palpable. It felt like the Branson kids against the rest of the world.
No, not the rest of the world.
Us against Frank.
“Okay, I have the photo,” Xavier said after a moment. “You're right. That's definitely our brand.” He made a noise like he was trying to piece the mystery together. “Can I ask why this matters?”
We exchanged glances, then Mitch leaned into the phone. “We found human remains with the suitcase. We're trying to identify the person.”
“Jesus,” Hawthorne breathed. “All right. Let me do some digging, and I'll get back to you. Can I reach you at this number?”
Shit. Cassidy mouthed, slashing a hand across her throat. No.
“Yes,” Mitch said. “Thank you.”
“I’ll call you if I have any information,” Xavier said, then ended the call.
“Shit, Mitch.” Cassidy punched his bicep. “Why'd you say he could call my number?”
“Relax.” Mitch handed her the phone. “He thinks he was talking to Frank.”
“Oh yeah.” Her eyes lit up. “Smart move, you cunning bastard.” She grinned. “So, what do we do now?”
I checked my watch. It was nearly six thirty. God knew how long Bella and I had been awake.
She was still leaning against the door frame. Her eyes looked heavy, and her shoulders drooped. She was barely keeping it together.
Enough. I'd been patient. We'd told them almost everything and had participated in all the revelations and mysteries.
But I was done waiting.
“Right,” I said, cutting through my siblings' debate over whether or not the dude on the phone knew more than he was letting on.
“I need to do something I've wanted to do since the moment we stepped out of that mine.” I strode around my desk, and before Bella could protest, I scooped her into my arms.
She let out a small sound of surprise, leaning toward me to protect her hands. “Declan!”
“I'm taking you back to my place,” I reminded her.
Cassidy whooped. Kayden grinned. Mitch just shook his head, smiling.
“Don't expect to see us for a couple of days,” I said.
“Jeez. Talk about a bragger,” Cassidy said.
“I'm serious. We have a lot of sleep to catch up on.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Cassidy rolled her eyes.
I carried Bella through the homestead, toward the rear verandah.
“I can walk, you know,” Bella said, but there was laughter in her voice.
I had intended to take one of the quad bikes, but Apollo was now hitched to the railing with his saddle on. No doubt Cassidy’s doing. She thought of everything.
“Wait here.” I set Bella down on the bottom step.
I untethered Apollo, swung up into the saddle, then backed my horse up until he was alongside the step, which brought Bella nearly level with me.
“Okay, come here.” I hooked my hands under her arms, and she gasped as I lifted her, settling her sideways across my lap.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
“Very,” she said, nestling against my chest.
My arms bracketed her as I took the reins, and she fit perfectly against me, warm and trusting and mine.
“Let's go home,” I said.
“Sounds perfect.” She leaned her head back against my shoulder.
Apollo started forward at an easy walk, carrying us away from the main house and toward my place. Toward privacy, sleep, and comfort.
Toward finishing what we'd started in the dark.
Behind us, Cassidy's voice floated to us. “About damn time! Have fun, you lovebirds.”
Bella giggled, and the sound was so bright and genuine, I felt it all the way through my chest.
Yeah. About damn time.