Page 27

Riley

L eaving Jules back at the house with Elliot was one of the hardest things I’ve done since taking this job in the first place. But the last thing I need is her anywhere near Glen Dodger.

Not now. Not ever.

I barely want to face the man, but I have this gnawing feeling that he’s at the center of this entire thing.

Finding those images hidden by Jules’s grandfather was just confirmation of that.

The number left inside the folder Jules found was turned off, but Tucker and Elijah Breeth—a former Army Ranger who works private security in Maine—have both been trying to track down who it belonged to.

My hope is that it belongs to whoever took the pictures.

Then we might be able to ascertain why Landers was looking into Dodger.

Dylan is with me, chosen because I know, if things escalate, he’s someone I want at my side. Bradyn is here because he’s arguably the most levelheaded of all of us, and if Dodger says something that sets me off, he’s the only one who might be able to keep the situation from exploding.

Tucker’s here because he’s going to be—hopefully—getting us ears on Dodger even after we leave. Part of me wishes I’d brought Romeo, but with how sensitive he is to my moods, I couldn’t risk him being on edge too.

I’d left Elliot with Jules because he’s known to be chatty when he’s in a good mood, and I can trust him not just to protect her—but to also help ease some of the fear I know she’s dealing with at the moment.

Whether it’s fear that my confrontation with Dodger is somehow going to have him coming after her again—which will never happen—or me ending up in handcuffs, I’m not sure.

To be honest, I half expected Dodger to not even buzz us into the gated estate, yet here we are, stepping up onto the large wraparound porch. He’s either innocent—this time—or arrogant. I’m betting on the latter.

I press the doorbell button then glance at each of my brothers.

They’re all aware of the type of man he is since I filled them in after Jules gave me permission.

Dylan’s practically vibrating with anger beside me, and I’m not even sure he’ll let Dodger get a word off before his thirst for vengeance gets the better of him.

Dylan doesn’t tolerate violence of any kind. Though he won’t hesitate to deal it out with his own hands if necessary.

The door opens, a young woman wearing a gray uniform answering it with a smile. “Please, come in.” After stepping aside, she waves us into the house. A maid? Or another one of his victims?

“Doctor Dodger is right inside the study,” she says then gestures toward the hall. “Right down there, second door on the left. He was just wrapping up a phone call but said to send you on in.”

“Thank you,” Bradyn says.

“You’re welcome.” She turns and heads toward the stairs, so we make our way down the hall toward the study. As we walk, Tucker pauses to gently inspect a vase sitting on a glass table against the wall halfway down the hall.

To anyone else, he’s appreciating the art.

To us, though, we know he just planted a device that will allow us to listen in and is so small no one will find it. Unless, of course, they have a detector.

Arrogant man like this? Probably doesn’t believe he has anything to worry about. While we won’t be able to use anything we pick up to put him away, we can use the knowledge to find something we can use.

The door to Dodger’s study is open, and as we step inside, he’s just hanging up the phone. He smiles widely at us and stands. “You are an impressive lot,” he jokes, coming around the desk and offering Bradyn his hand. “What is in the water out there in Texas?”

We’d given him a brief summary of who we were and why we’re here—to look into the murder of his old friend—when we called.

“Bradyn Hunt,” my brother greets.

Tucker takes his hand. “Tucker Hunt.”

“Nice to meet you, Tucker.” He stops in front of me, and I have to choke on the bile in my throat as I take his hand.

My mom’s words echo in my mind, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, my darling. Be kind even when you’d rather see them on the ground.

” And I want so badly to watch this guy rot away in prison.

“Riley Hunt.”

“Nice to meet you.” He moves to Dylan and offers his hand, but Dylan keeps his arms folded.

“Dylan. And I’m not big on touching.”

“Noted.” Dodger drops his hand, seemingly not offended in the least at Dylan’s refusal.

“So, what can I do for you boys? I don’t know how much I can help with Edgar’s death.

Other than the fact that I’m quite saddened by it.

We’re old friends.” He doesn’t sit, though he leans back against the desk and places his hands on either side of him.

“When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Landers?” Bradyn questions.

“Oh. Goodness. It’s been—I don’t even know how long. We had a few lunches at the country club over the years, but it’s been probably a year at least since the last one.”

“Do you have any reason to believe his death was more than a burglary gone wrong?” I ask as Tucker peruses the room, choosing the best spot for his next bug.

“No. I—do you think he was targeted?” To his credit, Dodger genuinely looks surprised. But a man like this who has hidden his monstrous personality for so long would be well-versed in what it takes to hide in plain sight.

“We believe it’s a possibility,” I say. “We were hired by his granddaughter, Jules. I assume you know her? If you and Mr. Landers were friends, you probably know the whole family.” There it is.

The subtle shift in his expression at my mention of Jules.

His brows arch just a smidge, his pupils dilating.

“I’ve seen her around a few times. Troubled girl. I know she’s had some struggles over the years.”

That you caused. I want to grab him by the throat and choke the life out of him. Even if I know that’s not the right thing to do. Men like this—they shouldn’t get to live. However, that’s not for me to decide, and I have to remind myself of that now.

“She’s doing much better these days,” I reply. “Do you know Odie Landers well?”

“More or less. We’ve had some dealings over the years. I heard what happened at the funeral. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. But since you mentioned it, why weren’t you there?”

“I had other business to tend to,” he replies, tone getting a whole lot less friendly by the minute. “As I said, I haven’t been close to the family in years. It didn’t seem appropriate for me to go, given the circumstances.”

“What circumstances are those?” Bradyn crosses his arms, and I have to wonder if he’s barely keeping his head too.

I don’t even have to look at Dylan to know he’s about one word away from blowing a gasket.

Tucker’s phone rings, so he withdraws it. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” He excuses himself, a chance to do some snooping under the guise of a phone call.

“The circumstances?” I ask again.

“Right. Edgar and I had a bit of a falling out the last time we spoke. He got himself into some trouble with a publisher and needed to borrow money to buy himself out of the contract. I told him that all my money was wrapped up in the charities I run and my campaign. I’m running for governor.”

Not if I have a say in it. “We weren’t aware he was having money troubles.”

“He wasn’t—at least, not on the surface. But after what happened with Jules, he had to cash in on a lot of his savings to put her in the best rehab facilities he could find. She was thrown out of two of them, so it was a constant restart.”

The anger that burns through me is so rapid that I have to take a step back to put some distance between me and the man I want to tear apart. “What do you think triggered her issues?”

“Who knows. Young people have so much stress. Especially teenage girls. And with her losing not just her mom but her stepmom and dad too? That’s a lot for anyone to take.”

So is sexual assault and abuse for two years.

I open my mouth to respond—with what, I’m not entirely sure—but before I can, an older woman steps into the room. She’s wearing a white pantsuit, her gray hair loose around her shoulders.

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Emmaline said we had guests. I’m Helena Dodger.”

“These are the Hunt brothers,” Dodger introduces us. “They’re looking into Edgar’s death.”

Her expression saddens slightly. “So sad what happened to him. We upped our security after that just in case.”

“You know that Jules Landers was in that house too, right?”

“We heard that. I’m glad she survived. I ran into Odie Landers last week at the club,” she adds. “He told me everything.”

“You spoke to Odie last week?” Dodger chuckles. “Seems my wife is more in contact with the outside world than I am.”

She smiles warmly at him. “That’s what happens when you’re trying to save the world, my love.”

I want to vomit.

“What did you and Odie talk about?” Bradyn asks.

“Just pleasantries. I hadn’t seen him since the wedding, and?—”

“Wedding?” Dylan asks.

“Mine and Glen’s. We got married eight years ago.”

“So you hadn’t seen him in eight years?”

“No. The Landers family kept pretty low profiles, given what happened with Jules Landers.”

It’s all I can take. Standing here, breathing the same oxygen as the monster who destroyed Jules, and listening to his wife dote on him as though he’s the greatest man alive. “Thank you so much for your help. Can we reach out if we have any other questions?”

“Absolutely,” Dodger says. “Here’s my card. My cell number is listed, and you can almost always find me there.” He offers it to me, so I shove it into my pocket.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. That family has suffered immensely. I’d like to see them find peace.”

I force my attention from him before I kill him where he stands. Helena steps into my path, her smile sympathetic. “Please tell Jules how sorry we are for her loss. And have her call if she needs anything.”

“Please tell me it’s working,” I say to Tucker as I walk into the kitchen.

Elliot and Jules are at the grocery store, getting stuff for dinner since she insisted on cooking rather than ordering pizza again.

Romeo is sleeping soundly beside Tucker’s chair, though when he sees me, he jumps up and happily trots toward me. I gently pet the top of his head.

“It’s working.” Tucker offers me the headphones, so I hold one over my ear and listen in.

“ No, the gala has to happen this month,” Glen Dodger says to whoever he’s talking to. His voice comes through as crisp as though we’re in the room with him. I offer the headphones back to Tucker.

“I’ve got it running through a script that analyzes the audio for critical words. I’m recording everything, but that way we’ll know where to start looking right away if something pops.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.” He crosses his arms. “How you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Nah, you haven’t cracked nearly enough jokes to be doing fine.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, taking a seat at the table too.

“You’re normally the guy who lightens the mood if things get too tense. Lately, though, you’re closer to exploding than Dylan is. And that, dear brother, is rare for you.”

“I wanted to kill him.” I’ll never pull punches when it comes to talking to my brothers. They’re the ones I trust most in this world.

“We all did. I’m seriously surprised the man was still standing after what he said about Jules.”

“I don’t understand how someone could do what he did in the first place, then stand there—nearly emotionless—as he places the blame right back onto her.”

“A good man cannot rationalize evil,” he says.

“I’m just ready to get back to the ranch. I need my routine to keep my head.”

“When are you planning to head back?”

“I want to talk to Odie tomorrow. See if he knew anything about how that publishing contract got switched or about the money problems Dodger claims Landers was having.”

“I’m betting he does. Oh, you should know, I put in a call to Frank Loyotta. He’s using Find Me’s resources to see if he can track down security footage of Dodger taking Jules out of the country. With how long it’s been, he’s not overly confident, but he’s looking into it.”

“Great. Thanks.” If we can nail Dodger for that, we can put him away for sexual assault of a minor as well as kidnapping, and likely hit him with a trafficking charge since he took her out of the country.

We just need one shred of proof. One thing to back up Jules’s word.

Because, as much as I hate to admit it, even if she came forward, the likelihood he’d walk is high.

She was an alcoholic who spent years in and out of rehab. She’ll be asked why she stayed quiet—why it took her ten years?—

I take a deep breath. It’s not right, but that’s the way it works when high-profile people are involved.

The door opens, and a few minutes later, Elliot and Jules are walking around the corner. Her eyes are wide and full of laughter as she carries a bag of groceries. A vise tightens around my heart at the sight of her.

She’s beautiful.

But it’s more than that. In this moment, there’s a sliver of light radiating past the darkness. And all I want to do is permanently remove her shadows so that light is all she feels.