Chapter 28

Leavingthe resident agency’s break room, Ash crossed paths with Peppy Patsy and saluted her with his brimming cup. “Thanks for putting on another pot.”

“My pleasure, hon. Now that we have a fancy coffee maker, it’s as easy as buttering biscuits.” She stopped a few feet away. “Need help with anything?”

He gripped the mug a little tighter as he prepared to take a drink. Unlike most communal coffee, the brew here was good. Didn’t matter who made it, all they had to do was follow the detailed instructions Patsy had taped to the new coffee maker.

“I’m good.” Ash blew into his cup before taking a tentative sip. The hot liquid was a few degrees shy of scalding as it slid over his tongue and down the back of his throat. Perfect.

He continued toward his office.

“If anything comes up, just give me a holler,” Patsy said. “Now that I have a part-time assistant, I can take more off all y’all’s plate. I can’t imagine the number of balls you have in the air with the Stokes case.”

“Thank you, Patsy. I—” He paused and turned back to the office assistant—manager. “Actually, there is something you could help me out with, if you’re game.”

Her smile grew wider. “I was born ready to play. You can ask my poor aggrieved mother. She could tell you story after story about my rollicking teenage years.”

Ash couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll keep that in mind when I need blackmail material on you.”

“Oh, I’ve gone and done a number on myself now.” Laughing, she nodded toward her desk a few feet away. “Let me grab something to write on.”

Ash followed and waited for her to get settled in at her desk.

“What’s on your mind, hon?”

“At the governor’s crime scene, I found a pearl stud earring pinned to a tree branch.”

“Sounds like someone took Pin the Tail on the Donkey to a whole new level.”

Ash suppressed a smile. He’d learned not to acknowledge Patsy’s sometimes inappropriate, always amusing, one-liners. She could shoot off one right after the other like clay pigeons.

“Based on the line of sight, I believe it’s where the shooter set up to make the kill shot, though forensics has yet to confirm my suspicions.”

“A calling card?”

“Signature,” he corrected. “Either that or a drunken socialite got stuck in a tree.”

Patsy chortled. “Want me to check to see if a pearl earring pops up in any other cases?”

He nodded. “Widen the net. Search for any jewelry, not just pearl studs. It’s a long shot, but worth looking.”

“Got it. Anything else?”

“Not at the moment. If you get a hit, let me know immediately. I don’t care if the director herself is in my office.”

“I need to finish something for Mitch, then I’ll jump on this.”

He recalled the research he’d done yesterday on the Secretary of State’s website. The organization who’d paid millions of dollars to Krowne and Associates, over a number of years. “One more thing?” he asked.

“Name it.”

“See what you can find out about a company named HCVS and the company’s rep, Larissa Maywood.”

She scribbled the information on her pad of paper. “Is HCVS an acronym for something?”

“Maybe.”

“How deep do you want me to go?”

“To the ninth circle of Hell, if necessary.”

“I love it when you talk Dante.”

Ash strode back to his desk, risking another sip while in motion.

He’d barely managed two hours of sleep last night. After his mind-scrambling kiss with Kayla, his body had remained strung taut for hours, until he’d finally taken himself in hand.

Regardless of what Kayla thought, he didn’t regret the kiss. The revelation surprised him as much as it would her. What he did regret were his parting words.

Stick to fucking up people’s lives.

For nearly two years, he’d done his best to stay out of her orbit. Primarily, because of Phin’s and Liv’s close relationship with the lobbyist. But he’d also been unable to suppress his irritation over how her lobbying efforts had impacted his day-to-day life and was concerned that his lack of control would cause a deeper rift in the family.

Something he did not need. Or want.

But something elemental had changed.

He wasn’t sure when or how she’d managed it, but the woman inside the lobbyist attracted him like a bee to pollen. Maybe it was her selfless efforts helping his brothers or the stories of her generous philanthropy. Maybe it was her sharp, amused intelligence that seemed to always be directed at him or the grief in her eyes after witnessing her godmother’s murder.

Or maybe, just maybe, it had been the way she looked yesterday morning. Casual, slightly disheveled. Sexy as hell.

Several times today, he found his thoughts trailing off. Moving from the important work in front of him to reliving the feel of Kayla’s lips against his. Their softness, their warmth, their need.

A need that matched his own.

Ash threw on the mental emergency brake and sagged into his chair. She kept him on an emotional roller coaster. It was damn exhausting, which was why he’d made a third trip to the break room for caffeine.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through his favorites until he found Rohan’s name. While the line connected, he anchored a white Airpod into his right ear, pushed out of his chair, and strode to the far window, away from curious ears.

From this vantage point, he could see Otis Street, the public parking garage, and a sliver of the Battery Park area. Vendors occupied the permanent outdoor stalls, hawking their handmade crafts or popular tourist bric-a-brac. Tourists inched by them, deciding whether or not to part ways with their hard-earned money.

After three rings, his brother picked up. “Hey, Ash.”

“How’s it going?”

“Quiet for a change.”

“Got the office to yourself?”

“In part. Phin and some of the ladies are busy planning a surprise birthday party for Grams and the rest of us are hunkered down, trying to stay out of their honey-do sight.”

Ash’s chest constricted. “Party?”

“They’re brainstorming dates, but it’ll probably be on the Saturday before her actual birthday.” His brother paused as if realizing something. “It’s all preliminary right now, Ash. Mom threw out the idea to Liv, Maddy, and Lena yesterday. The guys and I learned about it last night.” Another brief pause. “I’m sure Mom was going to text you today.”

Ash swallowed to ease the tightness in his throat. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, bro.” A lighter, teasing note entered Rohan’s voice. “Distance won’t exempt you from Mom’s to-do list.”

“Whatever she needs.” Ash brushed a hand over his face. “Mind if I ask a favor?”

“Name it. I still owe you one for helping us find Lena’s family.”

He wanted to ask how the reunion was going, but didn’t feel this was the right time. “Before you commit, you need to be aware that this request requires a high degree of sensitivity, confidentiality, and the dark web.”

“Noted.”

The tension pulsing through his body dissipated. “I’m part of a multiagency task force working the Stokes case.”

“Any leads on who killed the governor yet?”

“Not yet. That’s the reason for my call. Can you scrape the dark web and see if there’s any chatter about the hit?”

“Why not use the FBI’s team of intelligence analysts? Surely, the governor’s assassination takes priority.”

“They’re working on it, but . . .” Ash struggled to say the words he never imagined saying after leaving the family business.

“Your colleagues have to color between the lines?” Rohan offered, taking pity on him.

“Exactly.” Ash expelled a breath. “I know you have lines you won’t cross, too, but yours are more flexible.”

“You’re talking a lot of scraping, Ash.”

“I know it’s a long shot, but I have reason to believe—” He stopped himself before revealing details of the case. Outside of a few favors recently, it’d been years since he’d worked with his brothers. Yet he’d almost shared sensitive information with Rohan without a second’s thought.

“I’ll need to understand what I’m searching for, or this won’t work,” Rohan said after the silence stretched between them. “Whatever you share stays between you and me. I’ve never betrayed your confidence, as evidenced by my two decades of silence about who was responsible for the discarded condom in the back of Mom’s vehicle.”

Ash smiled at the ancient memory. He turned away from the window and headed back to his desk, pulling out the Stokes case file. “I believe Kayla Krowne might have been the intended target.”

“Kayla?” his brother echoed, incredulous. “I didn’t hear anything about her being present.”

“So far, we’ve managed to keep her name out of the news. If she hadn’t tripped over a rug, she would have taken a bullet from behind.”

“That close?”

“She was damn lucky.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Hurting. The governor was a close family friend. I don’t think she took the threat to herself seriously until her vehicle was vandalized yesterday.”

“What about protection?”

“Her driver is a former Ranger, so she’s covered during weekdays. I touched base with APD this morning and they agreed to schedule a regular patrol of her street in the evenings. Her mother is going to speak to her about hiring a private security firm to cover the weekends.”

“What else can you tell me about the shooter?”

“He left what appears to be a signature embedded in a tree.”

“What kind?”

“A pearl earring.”

“Unique. Anything else?”

“There might have been another intruder. Forensics discovered fresh blood not far from where I found the earring.”

“You think the two did some hand-to-hand?”

“It’s the only scenario that makes sense. Plus, there were other signs of a fight. Why there were two intruders and why they went at each other is the bigger question.”

“Hopefully forensics will get a hit on the DNA and that will answer your why.”

“I have a feeling whatever the lab finds is going to create more questions than it answers.”

“You want me to search the web for any mention of assassination plots on the governor or Kayla and jewelry left at the crime scene signature? Is that all?”

“See what you can find out about a company called HCVS. They’ve been pouring millions into Krowne and Associates for years. The only details I could find on them was the information Krowne listed on the lobbying statement form they’re required to submit to the Secretary of State.” With the task force and Rohan searching for clues, something had to pop. He hoped.

“Do you have that information handy?”

Ash rattled off the address and Maywood’s contact info.

“Give me a couple of days, and I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“Family first.”

Emotion pressed against the backs of his eyes, and he snapped his lids closed. Only once before had he been included in his brothers’ mantra and that was only because he’d inserted himself into the mix.

Rohan had just invited him in. Without hesitation or prejudice.

“Ash?”

“Yeah,” he swallowed hard. “I’m here.” He released a breath through his aching throat, lifted his head as if he could see into his brother’s eyes. “Go slow and easy on this one. Don’t leave a single crumb for anyone to pick up. I don’t know how deep and dark this goes.”

“The last thing you need to worry about right now is my level of caution. This is my schtick. I know how to cover my tracks. Kayla is the one who needs your attention and energy.”

“I hear what you’re saying, and agree, but that won’t stop me from worrying about my little brother.”

Another silence fell between them. This one didn’t contain the awkwardness of before. This one nodded toward fellowship. Brotherhood.

“Talk in a few days,” Rohan said, and the line went dead.

Ash pulled the Airpod from his ear before opening the bottom right drawer of his desk. Inside was a five-by-seven, black-framed picture, lying face down.

He lifted the photo from where he’d dropped it unceremoniously five years ago after finding it stashed in his moving box the day he’d left the family business behind.

No note. No explanation. But Ash recognized Grams’s trademark everything will work out symbolism, all the same.

Turning the frame over, he stared into the smiling faces of him and his four brothers.

He couldn’t even recall the occasion or what the hell they were so happy about. But he was certain of one thing. It was their last happy moment captured on camera before he’d ripped the family apart.

Bending back the frame’s easel, he set the photo on the left corner of his desk. New beginnings had to start somewhere.

He just hoped it wasn’t too late for this one.