Beaufort, South Carolina
March 27
After a day of chasing leads and interviewing the neighbors, Finn joined the men at Joe’s, a local pub. Tox stood and rested his hand on Finn’s shoulder, making sure he was keeping it together. Finn’s first instinct had been to bark at his friend. He wasn’t the one who had been attacked. But remembering May’s words about the time between stimulus and response, he had taken a deep breath and joined his brothers.
Nathan Bishop set his phone on the table and sipped a whiskey. “Herc says the blood trail led around the corner. Looks like the guy got into a car. Based on the tread marks, a small sedan or compact. Herc’s got local LEOs making an impression.”
Chat ran a hand over his bald head. “We need to go back and talk to the old lady, Mrs. Critchfield. Aside from this group, she was the only one who knew Twitch’s alarm code.”
Ren adjusted his wire-framed glasses. “She swears up and down she didn’t tell the code to anyone.”
“Still,” Chat said, “she’s the weak link.”
Ren tipped his head in agreement.
Nathan cast a cautionary glance at Finn before he spoke. “It looks like the unsub broke in before she got home and waited in the spare room until she fell asleep. The desk chair was pulled out, and the bed was disturbed. Twitch told Emily it looked like someone had been in her underwear drawer.”
Finn’s blood boiled. Gripped by the clawing need to fight, he searched the room. Chat’s big hand on his shoulder returned Finn’s attention to the table. “You’re not alone here, Finn. We all want to kill this guy.”
Finn settled. These men had been his brothers; they had seen the worst, endured unimaginable hardship, and stood side-by-side through it all. They shared his pain. They always had. He was the luckiest guy on the planet to have these men. And in this moment, he wanted more than anything for them to feel lucky to have him.
Finn slapped a hand on Chat’s bald head, pulled his friend’s forehead to his own, and said, “Dibs.”
Chat’s deep laugh had Finn grinning.
Two hours of planning, storytelling, and shit-giving later, Finn watched Steady, who was decidedly unsteady, maneuver through the crowd with six beer bottles by the necks in one hand as he worked his way from the bar to their corner table. The vintage Wurlitzer jukebox played a Luke Bryan song, and one drunken couple was slow dancing on a makeshift dance floor.
“You know, brother,” Steady set the beers on the table with precarious movements. “I never pay heed to Ren’s opinions when it comes to the fairer sex.”
“Oh, here we go,” Nathan groaned. “He’s using his philosopher voice.”
“I take no offense at your tone, Boss Man. And I prefer to think of it as my sensei voice,” Steady replied.
“I’m sure the men in both occupations are grateful for the job security you’re providing.” Ren grabbed a beer and drank.
“As I was mid-womanizing, I will ignore that.” Steady took his seat.
Ren shot Chat a glance and mouthed womanizing?
Steady continued. “Finn, Ren is right. This situation with Twitch requires finesse. Gone are the days when you could just hogtie your woman and throw her in your trunk.”
Cam leaned closer to Chat. “Were there ever days when you could do that?”
“He’s circling the runway, don’t interrupt on a technicality,” Chat murmured back.
“Give her some space. You gotta be like an old man in the park holding out a nut for a squirrel. Women are not as complicated as you think they are. Nine times out of ten, I can predict the outcome of any heterosexual male-female scenario—especially if you’ve had sex recently. In that case, I may be ten for ten.”
“How do you know we’ve had sex recently?” Finn asked.
The table fell silent.
Nathan answered, “Twitch told Emily.”
“And Evan,” Cam added. “They tell each other everything.”
Steady was sucking in his lips and peeling the label off his beer bottle.
Finn narrowed his eyes at Steady. “Dude, what’s with you? This is exactly how you acted when we planned that surprise party for the XO, and he asked you what you were up to that weekend?”