“Except my place still got ransacked.”
“We’ll find who did this, Brendan,” Hardy says. “I’ll take care of you. Anything for a high school buddy. Plus, it’s my job.”
“In the meantime, where the hell do I live?” Brendan asks.
“Where were you staying when you thought there might be a gas leak?” I ask.
“With my parents.”
“Then stay there,” Hardy says.
“I’m thirty-five years old, for God’s sake. And it’s going to cost a fucking mint to undo the damage these criminals caused.”
Hardy shakes his head. “Crime like this just doesn’t happen in Snow Creek. First Talon Steel gets shot. Now this. What the hell?”
Brendan shoots me a glare.
Damn. He really thinks the Steels had something to do with this. Even when Hardy mentioned my dad’s shooting in the same breath.
Sure, he found documents pertaining to my family under his floor, but this isn’t our style. If the Steels want information, we pay for it. We don’t trash someone’s place to get it.
None of this adds up.
Which means someone else knows what kind of stuff is hidden at Murphy’s.
And whoever they are, they’re no friends to the Steels.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Callie
I should apologize.
I should tell him fuck off for getting in my way.
I should say something.
But I freeze. Rather, my larynx freezes. The rest of me jerks backward, nearly landing on my ass.
“Nice to see you too, Callie.”
God, his voice. It’s still as reptilian as ever—like a freaking snake in the grass, hissing as it slithers up next to you to fuck you over.
The paper coffee cups lie on the sidewalk, what’s left of their contents—what isn’t on Pat’s shirt—draining out of them.
“Why are you here?” I finally ask.
“I’m heading in for some coffee. To drink, not to wear.”
“You know what I mean, Pat. Why are you here?”
“I didn’t come back to make trouble.”
“Right. That’s why you told Donny Steel a bunch of lies about Rory and me the other night at the hotel.”
“What lies?”
“For God’s sake.” I kneel down and pick up the empty cups, throwing them in a nearby recycle bin. “You know exactly what lies.”
“Maybe I’m not the one lying,” he says.
I stand and face him, anger pulsing through me. “Where is it, Pat?”
“Where’s what?”
“You know what.”
He shakes his head. “You’re living in the past, Callie.”
“Am I? I’m not the one who told Donny that the Pikes are gold diggers. That the Pike girls are easy. And God, you said Rory slept with you? You’re delusional.”
“I don’t lie, Callie.”
“Then you have an interesting definition of lie.”
“What if I told you I didn’t say any of those things?”
“Then you’d be calling Donny a liar, which he isn’t.”
“Isn’t he?” Pat lifts one eyebrow. “See you around, Callie.” He walks by Rita’s without entering.
“Thought you were getting coffee,” I say.
He doesn’t turn around. “Figured I should change first.”
I curl my hands into fists. I want to say something. Call him out. But words don’t come. Instead, a black cloud settles in my gut. It’s full of the words I don’t say, the words that stick inside me like a swirling tornado.
Donny didn’t lie to me. I know that for a fact.
I have to believe that.
And I realize the depths of what Pat has come home to do.
He’s not here to dredge up the past.
He’s here to fuck with my future. With Rory’s and my future. Did he have something to do with Rory’s breakup with Raine? It did seem to come on suddenly. Surprised the heck out of me.
And the Steels.
He knows I’m involved with Donny, so is he messing with the Steels? Surely he’s not that stupid. Pat Lamone has no resources, and the Steels have every resource.
He’s just one fucked-up man.
The Steels are many, and every one of them is brilliant and richer than God.
Statute of limitations.
I hurry back to the office, ready to run upstairs to research the statute, when I remember the coffee.
Back to Rita’s, and this time it’s on my own dime.
I return with the coffee, only to find Donny’s door wide open with Brendan Murphy and the sheriff inside yelling.
I quickly distribute coffee to Alyssa and Troy. Alyssa shrugs when I lift my eyebrows toward Donny’s office. Troy doesn’t even look up from his computer.
I sigh. I have Donny’s coffee. I don’t want to interrupt their bitchfest, but I don’t want the coffee to get cold either.
I stand next to the open door and knock to get their attention.
No one notices me.
I clear my throat. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Again, nothing.
I knock harder.
This time Donny looks toward me and raises his eyebrows.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I say again. “I have your coffee.”
“Thanks, Callie. I think we’re done here anyway. Brendan, Sheriff, I’ve got work to do.”
Brendan sighs and turns toward me. His pale face is red with anger. Of course it is. I heard the sheriff talking earlier about what was going on.
“Hey, Callie.”