Was that why he’d left? Why his family was such a sore spot for him? Because he’d craved closeness and genuine affection, but had received neither?
Maybe. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something more there. A deeper reason he was so closed off to questions about his family.
It was nearly an hour before she had anything even close to a lead. Both of the sons had sealed records from when they were minors. Which meant she’d never get them unsealed without a court order which she had no hope of getting, but it gave her a point of reference. Using the date the records were sealed, she worked her way backwards.
And struck gold.
One single article, in a less-than-reputable paper, about Cyrus Banks and a friend the article didn’t bother to name stealing a car and going for a joy ride.
As far as family secrets went, it was pretty lame. But it wasn’t so much the crime itself as the effort that went into covering it up that caught her interest. Sure, they weren’t the first wealthy family to want to downplay their children’s indiscretions, but once one outlet caught wind of a story, it was only a matter of time before the others followed.
Not so with this. There wasn’t so much as a whiff of impropriety around the Banks family anywhere else that she could find.
Maybe the writer who’d reported on it in the first place had followed up. Or maybe she could contact him, see what information she could pry out of him. Switching gears, she dug into his background.
But there were no more articles about Cyrus or his family. In fact, there were no more articles about anything after a few weeks. Because the last story she could find about Russel Davis was his obituary, published almost a month to the day after his story on the Banks family.
ChapterEight
Since the jury was still out on the Compton trial, Cyrus decided to take advantage of the slight lull between cases and work from home. And if it allowed him to sleep a little later after a frustrating night of tossing and turning in his cold, empty bed, wishing he’d asked Mina to stay, well, that was just a pleasant coincidence.
Seated at his desk in the downstairs bedroom he’d had converted into a home office, he sipped at his second cup of coffee and willed the caffeine to kick in.
While he waited for the kick, he pulled out his phone and checked his personal email, mostly for the sake of clearing out the clutter. He hated email clutter almost as much as he hated the physical manifestation of it.
But an email from the Guild caught his attention. The subject line simply saidMeeting Requested ASAP, so it seemed unlikely to be the usual generic update emails he was used to receiving.
His heart seemed to pick up speed, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the coffee as he clicked on the email.
Dear Cyrus,
As part of our ongoing search for the next United States Libra Guild Master, the committee is conducting interviews with all the documented Supremes. Please use the link below to select a date and time when you would be available for an interview. The process should not take more than ten minutes, unless you are identified as the next Guild Master.
Yours truly,
Mark Harrison, Libra Guild Vice President
Was it really that simple? Each of the Supremes just sat down with some talking heads and they, what, decided between themselves who the new Master would be? Was there some kind of sign from the gods?
The memory of what happened on the courthouse steps swam to the front of his mind again, but he ruthlessly pushed it away. Even if thatwasa sign, what would happen if he simply…didn’t tell them? They couldn’t force a confession out of him, not without committing several felonies.
And what would happen if he simply ignored their summons? It seemed like a moot point anyway, since he was definitely, absolutely,notthe new Libra Master.
With that thought firmly in mind, he tapped the button to delete the email. There, problem solved. Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he took another sip of coffee and went to work.
* * *
Unfortunately,the jury still hadn’t delivered a verdict in the Compton case, so Mina didn’t have any excuses to run into Cyrus during the day. Although, given what she’d uncovered the night before, maybe that was a good thing.
It could, she told herself for the millionth time, be a complete coincidence. People got into car accidents all the time, especially when they’d been drinking, as the tox reports on Russel Davis clearly stated had been the case. Various professionals, who understood the science far better than she did, had concluded there was no foul play involved in his death.
But her instincts told her there was a deeper story there. And if there was one single truth she’d learned over the years, it was to trust her gut.
Even if she was terrified of where it might lead her.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the doorbell of his townhome and waited for him to answer the door. Even if his family was hiding some sinister secrets, he’d left them. It stood to reason those secrets were the reason he’d left, which would make him a good guy.
Right?