Page 5

Chapter Five

Drake

I rolled over in bed and squinted at my phone. It was early, a little after five in the morning, but Rawlings's texts were set to alert even if I had it on silent. I picked the phone up and called him as instructed. “Danny’s come through for us,” he said. “We got a shot of someone jogging up to a parked car a mile away from your house, twenty minutes after the fire. It was parked in a minimart that has cameras. His face is hidden, but the car is registered to a Jethro Dunne.”

“And how do you know he has anything to do with the fire or Dodson?”

“He’s Dodson’s cousin.”

I whistled. “Too much of a coincidence?” I had to ask in case he lived or worked in the area.

“Especially as he lives twenty miles away and works in a gas station a mile from home,” Rawlings added dryly.

“Are you calling the cops?” Rawlings chuckled. “Well, I had to ask,” I justified.

“We just picked him up. Thought you might want to ask him a few questions. Taking him to the shed.”

“I’ll be there,” I confirmed, and hung up. I heard the sound of the kettle whistling and assumed Shae was awake. I shot into the bathroom, then got dressed. I was in the kitchen in moments, just as Shae poured himself a tea. He nodded to the coffee that was on.

“Heard you awake.”

“How’d you sleep?” I asked as I poured some into a travel mug.

Shae just shrugged. “Fine.”

I didn’t think he had, but that was something we had to sort out later. “Rawlings called. I have to take off.”

Shae glanced over at me. “You don’t need me to come?”

I shook my head. “Get yourself settled in. It’s been a crazy-ass couple of days. If you can’t sleep, watch some TV or I have a ton of books.” I pointed to the wall of books over in the living room. “Doubt if I’ll be long, but text me if there's any problems.”

I hated leaving Shae alone, but I didn’t want him seeing this.

I got to the shed, which was actually a garage hidden behind a wooded area. Owned by Diesel but buried by multiple shell companies. No one knew about it except Diesel, Gray, and me. Diesel’s business was 99.9% legit. But sometimes—very occasionally—we needed information to protect someone, and that information wasn’t always procured by asking people nicely. On the way here, they were blindfolded and had to use noise-cancelling headphones because we needed to take precautions to make sure this place couldn’t be found afterwards, and we didn’t kill people unless they tried to kill us or our clients first.

When I walked in, Gray already had our guest tied to a chair. As this was also mostly intimidation, Gray had removed Jethro’s blindfold and let him watch while he carefully rolled out thick plastic sheeting over the floor, taking extra care to ensure the area under the chair was covered. Gray, Diesel, and I also had lightweight ski-masks on, and the type of full-body coveralls crime scene investigators wore.

Jethro Dunne was already crapping his pants and none of us had laid a finger on him. Gray got out the box of toys we kept and made a show of picking out a hammer, a knife, and a saw, and placing them with care on the plastic table at the side of the room.

Jethro made a strangled noise behind his gag, which we all ignored, but then Rawlings walked up to him and jerked his hand forward to remove the gag. Obviously, Jethro was convinced he was going to get the shit beaten out of him and nearly tipped the chair back trying to dodge Rawlings’ hand. Rawlings didn’t say a word, just pulled the gag down, then spoke as if he was reading a script.

“Jethro Dunne, twenty-nine, father, Eric, deceased. Mother, Jean, lives with her sister after her husband got sent down for felony murder during a bank job shootout. The uncle of the teenager killed in the shootout has friends who arranged for Eric to have a fatal accident in the exercise yard. Apparently, he accidentally ran into a blade no one can find because no one saw it happen.”

“I wasn’t there,” Jethro stammered. “At the bank. I–I wasn’t.”

“The only reason you didn’t meet the same fate as your father,” Rawlings continued, “was because your girlfriend swore you were with her.”

“I was. I swear I was,” Jethro nearly screeched out.

Rawlings sighed. “Unfortunately, your now ex-girlfriend has a new boyfriend. Kristopher Vargan also has a lot of powerful friends and works closely with the D.A. I wonder what would happen if your ex changed her witness statement? She could easily pretend you had threatened her to enforce her compliance.”

Jethro gaped. “But she’d be lying.”

I was glad of the mask, because I wanted to laugh.

“Very true and I suppose without physical evidence, it would be just your word—someone who has a string of petty convictions—against the girlfriend of a close friend of the D.A., Stacey Jones, who has no arrests or convictions. Your ex was cured of her own rebellious stage the first time you were arrested.”

Jethro relaxed a little, obviously completely missing Rawlings’s sarcasm, and I noticed it was Gray that had to look away this time. We both knew what was coming.

“However, should that rumor circulate, how do you think the uncle of the teenager will react?”

Jethro paled, clearly catching up to his threat. “W–what do you want?”

“I want to know who employed you to use your arson skills.”

Jethro shook his head wildly. “I didn’t do anything. I was just helping Lee. I didn’t know what he was planning until we got there.”

“So, you didn’t give him a ride there? Didn’t see he had a gas canister? Didn’t ask what he was doing?”

Jethro deflated even more. “He said it was an insurance scam. That the place was empty.”

“Which it clearly wasn’t,” Rawlings said. “The trouble is, we’re forced to ask you because Lee is dead.”

Jethro gaped. “What? No. No, you’re lying.”

Rawlings was clearly ready for this and pulled out his phone. It showed a very dead Dodson.

“That could be photoshopped,” Jethro said defiantly.

“It could,” Rawlings agreed, “But if you call your mom, you’ll find she’s consoling her sister after the visit from the cops, and having to identify the body. If you’d had your phone turned on, you would have seen the fifteen messages she left…” He waved the phone they’d taken off Jethro. Not that we were going to turn it on. We didn’t need to after Danny had told them what it contained.

“How do I know if I give him up you won’t kill me anyway?”

He really was clueless. Did he really think we’d go to the trouble of hiding our faces and the location if we were going to kill him?

“You don’t,” Rawlings agreed. “But consider this. My colleague over there,” he pointed at Gray, “has many talents. He also really enjoys his work, as you can see.” He waved at the tools. “So, you have a choice. Tell us what you know, and you have a good chance we will let you go, provided we are satisfied with the quality of the information. Or you’ll tell us anyway, but after my colleague gets to enjoy a very intimate conversation with you.” Gray walked over to the toolbox and started examining some bolt cutters.

Jethro dragged his eyes away from Gray. “Look, I was told it was an insurance thing and that the house was empty. I swear I didn’t know people were inside. Lee told me he was supposed to get into the kitchen and mess with the wiring, but he’d tried the night before and couldn’t get in because the locks had been changed.” I stiffened. If that wasn’t a nail in Ryan’s coffin, I didn’t know what was. I’d changed the locks a week after I’d inherited Ellie’s place.

“He even tried working on this window at the side and this fucking donkey started braying,” Jethro continued. “When he told the man what had happened, he said he wanted his deposit back, but…”

“Lee had already spent it,” Diesel finished for him.

Jethro nodded. “That’s when he called me. So, we went the next night and thought he’d better get it done quick. Had a gallon of gas in the back of my pickup.” I met Gray’s disbelieving eyes. How did this guy think an insurance claim would go if it was obvious the fire had been set deliberately? Not that I thought for one moment Ryan cared about the insurance. He just wanted me out and thought if the house was gone, I’d just roll over.

“Who is he?”

“Don’t know his name, or where he got Lee’s name or number from. Lee said he met him at the rest stop out past Covington. They’ve built a new one, but the old one’s still there for sale.”

“Did Lee know how he was going to get the money?”

“Same place. He was supposed to text the number when it’s done.”

Rawlings had already skimmed through the printout Danny had provided of the texts, which pretty much verified everything he’d said. “If we let you go, what are you going to do?”

Jethro shook his head. “Nothing, I swear.”

Rawlings sat back. “Not exactly.” Jethro swallowed and Rawlings carried on. “You have two ladies who need you now. You’re going to turn into a dutiful son and nephew. You’re going to keep your nose squeaky clean and make sure they feel safe. I have some contacts and if you do what I say, then I will make sure in six months you’re doing something that pays much more than a gas station attendant. And legal,” Rawlings added.

Jethro’s eyes widened. I let myself out of the shed, needing to get back to Shae, and waited outside as Rawlings followed me.

“Have we got concrete evidence of a connection to Ryan?” The number used in the texts was a burner phone.

Rawlings shook his head. “We’ve cloned Jethro’s phone so Danny can see if there’s any interaction.”

“And like me, you doubt Ryan is big enough or bad enough to arrange a death in the police cells?”

“We don’t know it wasn’t a heart attack yet,” Rawlings said. “They have to do the PM and a tox screen can take days.”

“It can, but the cops might be panicking that this is on them. In their custody. It’s an incentive to get it done.”

“Let’s assume for a moment this has nothing to do with Ryan,” Rawlings said. “Would anyone else benefit from your death or you not owning the house?”

I shook my head. I had a really old will I’d made when I originally enlisted. It left everything to a charity. At the time, I was determined the death gratuity paid if I died on active service wouldn’t go to my parents. Even when I left the service, I didn’t change that.

I might now though. Not that it would ever go to them. Shae might need something behind him one day, even if that was cash and not me.

“I’m still not convinced this isn’t something to do with Ryan, but arranging a death in custody?” It was unrealistic.

“Let’s wait to see what the PM says,” Rawlings agreed. I set off to my truck, eager to get home for the first time in probably years.

Shae

I still couldn’t sleep, despite trying for another couple of hours. I hadn’t slept properly since Mom’s house burned down, really, and the fire here had brought all that up again. It didn’t help that my body was having all sorts of other problems.

I groaned out loud in the empty house. Sleeping out here, I hadn’t even dared using my hand.

Maybe a walk—some other type of exercise—would help, and I could crash for a couple of hours? It was warm, even for seven in the morning, and I didn’t bother with anything else other than a t-shirt and old jeans. I headed for the back and the horses, because they fascinated me, but as I headed over there, I heard the dogs barking.

I’d forgotten Drake had told me Moira rescued dogs as well. Dolly wasn’t in her field—I smiled, wondering where she was—so I followed the barking, speeding up when it became relentless. I walked into an open barn and paused at the sight of a man who had lined up some food dishes and was scooping dried food into each one and muttering as he did so. He was so absorbed he hadn’t noticed me and then just started dropping the bowls over the pen doors, spilling a lot of it, and clearly not giving a shit.

“There, you little shits, shut the fuck up.” He got to the end door, which didn’t have an open top, so he was forced to unbolt it, and just as he did so he could throw the dish in, I saw a small brown nose poke out. He growled and kicked at the dog. I heard the yelp and completely lost it. Before he knew what had happened because my speed had taken over, I had my hand around his throat, and he was pinned to the wall.

I couldn’t stand bullies.

“The fuck?” he managed to gasp out and tried to kick me unsuccessfully.

“You just kicked that dog.” Puppy, I amended mentally with a glance to the cage. He sneered.

“So, it’s part of their training.”

I stared at him dispassionately as he struggled unsuccessfully, and just as his face was turning scarlet, I let go, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “I’m calling the cops,” he shrieked.

“Do that,” I said, waving my phone. “Think they’ll be interested in what I recorded.” I was bluffing, but he didn’t know that.

“Wait until my aunt Moira hears about this,” he spat and turned and ran.

Well, shit. He was family? Her condoning this kind of behavior didn’t gel with what I’d seen, but I didn’t really know Moira. Then I heard a small whine and looked into the stall. Four puppies were curled around each other, shivering. They had one filthy blanket and a little bit of old straw and my heart broke for them. But none of this made sense, and I knew deep down that Drake wouldn’t be happy. But this wasn’t his business or his land.

I walked into the stall and realized that sitting down with them was a no-go, as there was so much shit in the small space. The water dishes were also empty. Rolling my sleeves up, I got to work.

Two hours later, I had cleaned each stall—eight dogs in total—made sure they had water and had given them extra food, then I found some clean straw and sat down next to the puppies. They had runs on the outside, but I didn’t know their routine so I left them closed.

The babies were all scared, still shivering even though it was warm, so I sat down and talked nonsense to them gently. The tan one with one brown and one blue eye was the bravest, even though he’d been the one to get kicked, and was soon sniffing and investigating me. Of course, the other three followed, and by the time I looked up and saw Drake leaning on the door watching me, I had all four of them sacked out on my lap and my legs.

He grinned. “You making friends?”

I winced. “I was just taking advantage because pretty sure this is the last time I’m going to be allowed back.”

He studied my face. “Tell me.” So, I did.

“I have no idea who the guy is. Moira’s an only child and so is Albert, and they didn’t have kids.” He frowned. “This doesn’t sound like them. I’ve watched them both sit up all night with a rescue they didn’t think was going to make it.”

“Maybe they didn’t know?” I offered.

Drake looked at his watch. “You good for a few minutes?”

I nodded and grinned when the puppy I really liked stretched his whole length without opening his eyes. I wanted to say “big stretch,” like I’d heard my mom say countless times with my neighbor’s dogs, but that would have been lame, so I kept my mouth shut, and watched Drake walk away.

He returned probably ten minutes later with an older guy I assumed was Albert when he reached out a hand for me to shake and confirmed it. “Son, I can’t tell you how grateful we are.”

I blinked. Not just because it had been a long time since anyone had felt anything resembling gratitude toward me, but because he called me son. “We dropped the ball.” He pulled in a breath. “I had a heart attack five months ago and Moira’s been trying to run everything as well as look after me. Gary is a neighbor. He was a decent lad, but he’s obviously lost his way. I’ll tell him he can’t come back and sort this myself until I get someone else.”

“I can help,” I blurted out before I even thought about it. “I love dogs,” I added. “I just don’t know how long I’ll be here.” I purposely didn’t look at Drake.

Albert chuckled. “Well, Drake vouches for you, so consider yourself hired. I’ll let Moira sort out the nuts and bolts.” One of the puppies woke up and dared to investigate Albert’s foot. His face softened, and he reached down to scratch it behind its ears.

I glanced down at my puppy. The one brown and the one blue eye looking at me intently. I knew he was waiting for me to claim him, but I couldn’t. Gently, I got to my feet. “Let me know their schedule,” I rasped and walked out.