Nine

NINE

I sat in first class the next morning, on the red-eye, nearly climbing out of my skin. The only thing that kept me grounded at all was Conrad’s presence beside me. Of course, after the first hour, I attacked him because he was the one there.

“Why do you care?” I asked him, wanting the fight, picking it.

His head rolled sideways so he could see me.

“I’ve never done anything for you.”

The look in his eyes was hard to read.

“You don’t wanna talk?”

Still nothing, just the stare from his lime-and-gold cat eyes.

“Fine, forget it,” I said, turning away, looking out the window at the black night sky.

“Look at me.”

My head snapped back, my eyes returning to his face. “Friendship means shit to you?”

“Of course not.”

“But that’s what you’re saying.”

“No,” I told him. “I just?—”

“Everyone wants something,” he said softly, leaning closer to me, “except my friends. I have very few, and you’re one of them.”

“Con—”

“You never expect anything without paying. You never ask for favors, you never take us, this, me and you, for granted. Do you know what that makes you?”

I shook my head.

“It makes you one of ten people in the world who give a crap if I live or die.”

His chartreuse eyes, with the flecks of gold in them, were really the most extraordinary color.

“And then there was Andrade’s.”

I took a deep breath. “That was nothing, and you always bring it up like it was.”

He shrugged. “Because it wasn’t nothing. It was a helluva lot more than that.”

But for me it had never been the extraordinary happening that he thought it was.

It had been a routine collection. Walking into Tajo Andrade’s club to pick up the money he owed me, we had no idea that we were interrupting a robbery. When we walked down the stairs into the main room, the man turned and, with him, the shotgun he was holding. I didn’t even think. I stepped in front of Conrad on instinct, shielding him with my body. Our diversion allowed Tajo the moment he needed to pull his Glock and drop the robber with a shot to the head. The second guy took a bullet from Conrad’s gun, the silencer muffling the sound only a little. In the aftermath, as Tajo passed me an envelope and thanked me for being punctual, then ordered his guys to get rid of the bodies, Conrad turned me around and looked at me like he’d never seen me before.

“You okay?” I asked him.

And he nodded slowly, his eyes staring holes into me.

“It was no big deal,” I told him, back in the present, for what felt like the hundredth time. I patted his thigh before I let my head fall back against the seat. “Any of your friends would have done it.”

“That’s what you’re missing,” he told me. “There aren’t too many of you.”

But I refused to believe that; the man was much too constant not to be beloved by many.

“So you have a new job, huh?” he asked me.

He was trying to divert my mind, keep me from shattering into a million pieces. “Yeah.”

“And who’s gonna watch your back?”

“I was gonna ask you, but maybe there’s not enough money in it, huh? Gabe doesn’t think there is.”

“I have enough money.”

“I can pay you something, just not whatever you get for taking out drug lords in third world countries.”

His laugh was throaty and low. “Whatever is fine. If I need more, I’ll take a contract and kill a dictator.”

“Yeah?” I croaked out, my voice succumbing to the emotion twisting through me.

“Of course,” he assured me. “Tell them all that I’m your shadow.”

“Please, they think you are now. It’s why Kady didn’t fuck with me—too scared.”

His sinister smile, the one that reminded you that he was lethal, was there, curling his lip. “Good.”

“Ask you a question?”

“’Course.”

“That day I met you, what were you doing there?”

“I was supposed to take Hawkins that day.”

“No shit?”

He made a noise in the back of his throat.

“And you didn’t?”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“You were more interesting.”

I sighed. “You didn’t get in trouble?”

“I don’t get in trouble.”

“But people pay you. Don’t they want a refund?”

His long, exasperated sigh let me know that I was annoying.

“Tell me how it works.”

“No.”

“Is Hawkins still alive?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Really?”

“Come on,” I pleaded.

He turned his head to me. “Money gets wired, and I either make the transfer when I finish the job or I don’t.”

“Oh.” That answered one question. “And Hawkins?”

“Someone else did that.”

“Okay.”

We were silent.

“We will get Landry back,” he promised me.

I pushed air through my lungs. “How do you know?”

“I just do. I can tell about these kinds of things.”

I tried to let his certainty comfort me.

“What are you thinking?”

“That none of this makes any sense, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Why Landry?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

I looked back out the window, unable to talk anymore.

When we landed at Harry Reid International Airport, I texted Gabriel to tell him I had landed fine and that I would give him an update as soon as I knew anything. I had called him the night before after Conrad picked me up and explained what had happened. He was furious for me and made me promise to let him know if I needed anything at all.

“Thanks, Gabe,” I had replied softly.

“You’ll get him back, Trev,” he promised me. “Make sure you call me.”

“I will,” I sighed and hung up.

After Conrad and I separated, me to duck into the bathroom and him to go get a rental car, I went to wait for him on the curb outside in front of arrivals. Ten minutes later, he rolled up to collect me.

“That’s amazing,” I told him as I opened the back door and threw my duffel in.

“What is?” he asked when I got in the passenger seat and buckled up.

“I’ve never gotten a car that fast.”

He squinted at me. “You reserve it online, they come pick you up, take you to the rental car place, you sign, they give you keys, and you drive away. What’s to wait for?”

“You must be, like, a gold member or something.”

“Try platinum.”

“I guess you rent a lot of cars, huh?” I asked as he eased the car away from the curb and out into traffic. He drove much faster than anyone I knew, even back home he did.

“Contract killer, comes with the job.”

“You don’t say hitman?” I asked as he navigated us from the airport onto I-215 heading east just as I’d done a day ago. But it had to be longer than that though. Everything was becoming a weird blur.

“We don’t say contract killer either. For fuck’s sake, Trev.”

“I’ve never, you know,” I said, looking at his profile, the dark aviator glasses, the chiseled features, his dark smooth skin, “told anyone what you do.”

“I know that,” he said, checking the rearview mirror, distracted.

“Just so we’re clear.”

“We’re clear,” he murmured, but he wasn’t really paying attention to me.

“What’re you doing?”

“Is your seat belt on?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

I looked at him again—his black leather jacket, the lightweight cashmere sweater underneath, his driving gloves that he’d put on—and thought that he appeared to be ready to go sightseeing or something.

“Do me a favor,” he said casually as he guided the car onto the highway.

“What?”

“Reach under the seat and pass me the gun.”

“You just rented this car and there’s a gun under the seat?” I was stunned.

“Yeah,” he answered distractedly.

“How?”

“That’s not that big a deal at the moment. Could you get the gun?”

When the handgun with the silencer was in my grip, I straightened up. “You don’t want this right now, do you?”

“Not yet,” he told me as he accelerated.

It was surreal holding a gun on my lap, but then again, everything about this day, about what was happening with Landry, was odd.

When I started noticing things again, like I came out of my brain fog, I realized that Conrad had slowed down. I was going to tell him to hurry, that we needed to get to Landry’s parents’ house, but then a car flew by us. Several others had passed, because he was going the speed limit, but when this particular one did, we were suddenly in pursuit. Conrad had the Lexus up over a hundred so fast and then he rolled down his window, grabbed the gun from my lap, leaned forward, braced his wrist on top of the driver’s side mirror, and fired twice in quick succession. The car in front of us skidded, slid, and then drove off the Paseo Verde Parkway that we were now on, and onto the right shoulder.

We followed, Conrad stopping the car, throwing it into park with the hazards blinking about a hundred yards back, on the shoulder as well.

I reached for my door as Conrad threw his open, got out, traded hands with the gun, and tucked it against his right side. Anyone looking out the window at him would not have seen the weapon.

“Do not get out!” he barked at me.

“I—”

“Do not get out!” he roared a second time, standing outside the car a moment before suddenly sprinting toward the other.

Surprisingly, he went to the passenger side door, raised his arm, shot into the window and then opened the door. He leaned in and I couldn’t see what else happened—and I wanted to go, but the man had given me a direct order, and it was more about trust than anything else. I wasn’t afraid that he’d hurt me if I got out of the car but he wanted me to stay put, so I did.

When I saw him loping back, I watched him the whole way until he got back in the car and shoved the gun at me. He threw the car into drive, and peeled out, fishtailing back onto the freeway as we drove away. I tried to see into the car as we passed it, but we were moving too fast.

“Jesus Christ, Conrad, what the fuck?”

“There should be a holster under your seat. Can you get that for me?”

“Conrad!”

He growled at me. “Okay, so those guys were supposed to kill us.”

“Kill us?”

“Well, you. I wasn’t on the menu since no one knew I was coming.”

“Are you kidding? What the hell is going on?”

“Someone is really sloppy, because this plan is bad.”

“What…? This doesn’t make any sense,” I said, leaning over, reaching for the holster, feeling around until I found it, pulling it out and showing it to him.

“Unscrew the silencer, holster the gun, and then pass me the silencer and then the gun.”

It was hot. I turned to him. “You shot them, huh?”

“Of course. You don’t let people live who are trying to kill you. That’s, like, the number one rule of survival.”

“But we could have turned them over to the police. Maybe they could have led us to Landry.” My voice shook.

“They had no idea where Landry is. All they were supposed to do was keep you from making it to the house. Period.”

“You asked them?”

“Yes.”

“And they told you even though they knew you were going to kill them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know but that’s how it normally goes. I’ve been surprised a few times in my life, but not many.”

I took a breath. “But those two, they didn’t surprise you.”

“No. No they did not.”

“They weren’t very good, were they?”

He shook his head. “And that tells me a lot.”

“It does?”

He nodded. “This, combined with your earlier point that none of this makes any fuckin’ sense, because why?”

“I dunno.”

“Landry’s been gone—what’d you tell me when we were talking about this a while back—like, nine years?”

“Eight years.”

“Okay, so eight years he’s been out of the picture, and the second he’s back he’s a ransom target? Does that make any sense?”

No. None at all.

“Think, Trevan. What could it be?”

“I don’t wanna learn anything here, Connie. Just fuckin’ tell me what you think.”

“Well, logically, it can only be family bullshit or friend bullshit. Whoever took Landry knows him or knows of him. There’s no way someone waited all this time. This has crime of opportunity written all over it.”

“How do you know?”

“Like I said, nothing else makes sense, and those idiots back there, they were guys that somebody knows and asked for a favor or threw money at.”

“And you killed them.”

“Yes, I did, because first, that’s what I do, and second, they were trying to kill you. You stay safe because people know if they come for you, they die. If people ever find out that someone tried to kill you and lived through it—that’s my reputation.”

“You would kill people for your reputation.”

“It’s my name, Trevan. You don’t understand. My name is all I have.”

“No one would have known if you let them go.”

“I would have known, and believe me, those assholes would have talked. People know that I’m your shadow. All they have to say is, ‘We tried to kill Trevan Bean and lived.’” He shook his head. “There’s no way.”

“Jesus.”

“Get the fuck over it, it’s done.”

I nodded because I didn’t have a choice.

“Think now,” he said as he drove, slowing to a pace that would not alert highway patrol. “Who would want to hurt Landry?”

I had no idea.

“Are you thinking?”

“I am, but I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “What does Landry have?”

“He has nothing worth a ransom. He has a jewelry business, and he rents an apartment with me, for crissakes. He doesn’t have shit.”

“Yeah, but you said his family does.”

“Sure, and that’s who they want the ransom from, but?—”

“But why would Landry factor in? How does he factor in?”

“I don’t?—”

“You’re not thinking.”

I wasn’t, I was barely breathing.

“Trevan.”

“What, fuck, how the hell should I know?”

“C’mon, Trevan, use your brain. When Landry left, was there a trust fund? Did he have one? Was there money that got moved around? How many kids are there?”

“Four.”

“And did that become three and now it’s back to four?”

“Are you serious? I have no?—”

“That’s motive, do you understand? Money is motive, the biggest one, always.”

“Money.” I had to wrap my brain around it. I had none; I grew up lower middle class, dipping into poor after my father died. There had never been enough. I didn’t know about money.

“You have to think. How much is enough to fuck someone over for?”

“That can’t be.”

“It’s the only thing it can be.”

I shook my head.

“Yes.”

“No,” I insisted. “It can’t be his family. You weren’t there, you didn’t see them. They all want him to love them so bad.”

“You’re wrong. Somebody doesn’t give a crap.”

I never argued with him, but this time I could because I knew what I saw and I knew love when it looked me in the face.

“Listen to me.”

“I am.”

“I think Landry was out of the will and now he’s back in and somebody’s pissed about that. Or someone used up their trust fund or borrowed against it and now it’s gone because Landry’s back. I dunno, but it has to be about cash either being gone or being smaller. Any way you slice this, it’s money.”

I just stared at his profile.

“What?”

“That’s a lot of fuckin’ scenarios.”

“And I’ve been the deal breaker on the end of all of them at one time or another.”

“Everything you just said—you’ve actually lived all those. Those all really happened.”

“Yeah. I’ve killed people because of all those things.”

“Jesus.”

“You don’t get it, but Landry’s been gone a long time. Eight years is long enough for things to have been changed, and now that he’s back, money will get redistributed. And probably his folks haven’t even thought about moving things around yet, but it follows that they will. Whoever did this is counting on it. Landry’s parents would want everything to be equitable between the four children.”

“You’re telling me that either one of his brothers or his sister arranged this.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you.”

“That’s crazy.”

“That’s money. You have to think. What is some prodigal son when weighed against millions?”

“I just can’t believe it. I mean, I saw them with him.”

“Which is why seeing is bullshit, hearing is worse, just like the saying goes.”

“Then how do you know what to believe?”

“You follow your heart and listen to your goddamn friends.”

I took a deep breath. “I want him back. I need him back.”

“I know you do.”

I worked hard not to hyperventilate.

There were police cars in the driveway of the house when we reached it ten minutes later. Conrad and I were allowed through the barricade, both of us given admittance without question. Someone had made sure my name was on the list, along with anyone who was with me. As the front door was opened by a uniformed policeman, I heard my name yelled from the opposite end of the room. I turned and Jocelyn ran fast to fill my arms.

“Oh, Trevan, I’m so sorry. You bring him to us after all this time and this happens,” she cried, hands on my chest. “I’m so sorry.”

I wrapped her in my arms, and saw the looks of pain and sadness on all the other faces in the room.

Except one.

Except the person I would have never suspected.

Neil, Landry’s father.

I had counted on Scott. Scott was the perfect choice. Scott was hard to like. He wasn’t warm like the others, and I had thought he wasn’t crazy about Landry. But the surface was one thing, and what was underneath was something completely different.

The look Scott was giving me was one of genuine concern. He was sorry for me and worried about Landry; it was all over his face. What was on Neil’s face was surprise. He was absolutely stunned to see me.

“I gave the cops your name so you could come right in,” he told me.

Because he never thought I’d make it there.

My eyes locked on his face. He shivered hard.

“Folks,” a man said, walking over, looking at Neil and Cece, “it seems we have a development and something we all need to discuss.”

They looked at the man as he pointed to me. “Are we free to talk in front of these men?”

“Oh God, yes,” Cece told him. “Detective Baylor, this is my son’s domestic partner, Trevan Bean, whom we told you about, and his… friend?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Conrad told her. “And Landry’s as well. I’m Terrence Moss.”

I turned to look at him, confused for a minute until it hit me. This was a police detective that he and I were being introduced to. It had never even crossed my mind, how close Conrad himself was standing to danger. And he was doing it for me, there for no other reason.

“Thank you for being here, Terrence,” she told him. “We appreciate you coming all the way from Detroit with Trevan.”

“Yes, we do.” Jocelyn nodded, tears leaking from her eyes as she clutched at me.

“So, what news?” Scott demanded, annoyed. “Jesus, do you have news? We need to do something… he could be really hurt and… tell us.” He barked at the detective.

He turned to Neil. “Two men, Joshua Beatty and Topher Reed, were just found dead on the parkway.” And because he was looking at Neil, I knew he was already aware that Neil knew them. His fixed regard, the squint of his eyes, was not good.

“Joshua and Topher.” Scott said the names, repeating them, like he was trying to think of something, dredge something from his mind. “Joshua and…. How do I…? Oh, I know. Dad, aren’t those friends of Brendon’s?”

“Who’s Brendon?” I asked.

Scott turned to me. “He’s our maid Yvonne’s son.”

I looked back at Neil. “The maid’s son. Does he live here?”

“Yeah,” Scott answered for his father. “He lives in one of the larger guesthouses down by the lake, close to the one you and Landry were sharing. His mother used to live there too, before she passed away.”

“Who is Brendon’s father?” Conrad asked.

I turned to look at him. Everyone did.

“Why is that important?” Scott asked.

He glanced at the detective. “I think it’s very important.”

“As do I,” Baylor agreed. “So we checked. No father on record.”

“How did they die?” Neil asked the detective, his voice sounding almost robotic. “The two boys.”

“They weren’t boys, Mr. Carter,” Baylor corrected him, “but to answer your question, they were both shot in the head.”

He nodded and dropped down hard on the chair beside him, like he had just been drained of life—boneless, soulless, just empty.

“Mr. Carter?” The detective said his name sharply.

“He promised me no one would get hurt.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“Who promised that, Mr. Carter?”

He just started shaking his head.

“Mr. Carter?”

“My son.”

“Which son?” Baylor asked him, and we were all silent.

Conrad put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing tight.

“Daddy?” Jocelyn asked.

He looked up at his daughter. “Brendon.”

“Brendon?” She squinted. “What are you?—”

“Oh God,” Scott groaned, sounding like he was going to be sick.

“Brendon is your son?” Cece Carter asked her husband. The look on her face went from horrified to furious in a matter of seconds. “You told me I was seeing things! You told me—ohmygod!” she shrieked.

Once she started screaming, it quickly became a howl that wouldn’t stop. Scott went to her; Jocelyn got on her cell phone and called the doctor even as the wail went on and on. It was horrible to hear, and I watched Neil Carter’s life end right there in front of me.

“Mr. Carter!” Baylor yelled before ordering two of the officers to take Mrs. Carter away. Jocelyn went with her, squeezing my hand before she left, making me promise to come to her mother’s room the minute I heard anything, the moment I knew the whole story.

“I promise,” I said without turning to look at her, my eyes locked on her father.

“Mr. Carter,” Baylor barked again. “Tell me what happened now!”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Where’s Landry?” I roared at him.

“I don’t know.” He looked up at me with broken eyes. “He took him, and he was supposed to give him back the minute the ransom got paid.”

“But there’s been no ransom demand,” the detective reminded him.

He turned his head to the policeman. “I know, and that’s troubling.”

Troubling?

I started to shake, the desire to tear the man to shreds coursing through my body.

Troubling , he said.

Detective Baylor grabbed a chair and put it down in front of Mr. Carter, taking a seat so they were eye to eye. “Explain this to me. You had your son kidnap his brother?”

“Half brother,” Scott almost snarled. “Jesus Christ, Dad, what the fuck did you do?”

“I—”

“Please,” Baylor almost yelled, hand up. “Any more outbursts from anyone and I will clear this room. Do you understand? If you can’t contain yourself, Mr. Carter, we will have you removed.” He turned and glared at Scott first, then me. “That goes for you as well, boyfriend, do you understand? Everybody shut the hell up.”

I nodded furiously, and Scott seethed beside me, arms crossed, the energy just sparking off him.

“Now,” the detective began again, facing Neil. “Sir, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” He shook his head, and I saw his chin quiver with the control it was taking for him not to cry. “And that’s my crime.” His eyes lifted to Baylor. “He told me. My son told me what he was going to do, and I told him to wait. I didn’t want him to touch Scott or Christian because I was scared, but when Landry came home….”

I almost went down; my legs barely held me up. He wasn’t about to feed either of his good sons to the beast, but the prodigal, the prodigal could be led to the slaughter. That was why his sudden change of heart over Landry being gay, living with me, being in a relationship with me… it was all a farce. He needed the love of my life to stay in town so Brendon would take him, kidnap him, hurt him and not Scott or Chris. Suddenly, everything made sense.

“Breathe,” Conrad ordered me, his voice cold and hard and quiet.

“When Landry came home, I thought he was the answer to my prayers because he probably wouldn’t get hurt, but this way—” He lifted his head to meet Scott’s gaze. “I couldn’t take the chance with you or Chris. I would have had to stop him. I would have had to tell.”

But Landry was expendable.

“When he called me last night and said that he had Landry,” he said, eyes returning to Detective Baylor, “I was terrified, but I told him what to do. I told him to call for the ransom. He just needed the money I promised him to pay off some gambling debts, that’s all.”

We all waited as he took a shuddering breath.

“When Landry left, I changed the trust,” he explained. “I thought he was gone forever and didn’t want anything to do with us, so I went to Brendon, and I told him that the money that I had set aside for Landry, his trust fund, now belonged to him.”

I heard Scott take a breath beside me, and I reached out and grabbed his bicep hard. I didn’t want him to interrupt again, but I also didn’t want him to get us all thrown out of the room.

Amazingly, his hand covered mine and he squeezed tight. Like we were in it together. When he stayed quiet, because no one interrupted, Mr. Carter continued.

“But when I went to change the trust this year”—he turned his head and looked up at Scott again—“I found out that you had changed the terms.”

Scott was taking no chances of being removed, so even with his father staring at him, he stayed quiet.

“What did you do, Mr. Carter?” Baylor asked Landry’s older brother.

He took a breath. “When I became CEO of Carter Limited last year,” Scott told us all, letting my hand go, looking at his father, “I saw that Landry’s trust was up for review. And I thought about breaking it at that point and dispersing the money, but no matter what, he’s a Carter, and that trust was set up by my grandfather when he was born. I had to think of Melvin Carter’s wishes, and I realized that he’d want Landry to have what was his. So I changed the terms and locked it until he turns thirty. I figured if nothing changed by then, if he was still a no-show in our lives, if the silence continued, then the money could be allocated to wherever it was most needed or even given to a charity in his name. We could distribute it if Landry wasn’t home before he turned thirty, but no way was it getting touched before that.”

“I had no idea,” Neil whispered. “And when I found out, I said nothing. I figured that I could get Brendon the money from some other source, and I had time because he knew that the trust couldn’t be opened for a while, but then… then….”

“Then he needed the money to pay off his debts,” Baylor offered.

“Yes, and make an investment that was time sensitive,” Mr. Carter explained. “He had an opportunity to go in with a friend on a––”

“That’s really not important,” Baylor said curtly. “I’m only interested in the fact that he needed money and that’s why he kidnapped Landry.”

Mr. Carter just stared at him.

“Yes?” Baylor prodded.

“Yes,” Mr. Carter confirmed.

“And Brendon, who had been content to wait, but couldn’t any longer, not knowing the trust was locked, asked you for the whole sum.”

“Correct.”

“But you couldn’t get it.”

He shook his head.

“So Brendon decided that kidnapping one of your sons was the way to get it,” he concluded.

“That’s right.”

“And you were in the process of stalling him when Landry came home.”

“Yes.”

“Did Brendon also believe that because Landry showed up, the money automatically reverted to him?” Baylor asked.

“He did.”

“Even though that was never the case because the money had never left Landry’s trust to begin with, you let Brendon believe it was.”

“Yes.”

The questions the detective was asking, I knew he was building his case. I saw his phone on the coffee table, recording. Mr. Carter should have asked for a lawyer, Scott should have insisted on it, or Chris, but like me, they were all too involved in listening to the tale unfold. And technically, the detective wasn’t questioning Mr. Carter about what he had done, but instead about Brendon’s motivation. “Did you tell Brendon Arnold how much was in Landry’s trust?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell Brendon to take Landry instead of either Scott or Christian?”

“Yes, I did.”

Yes, he did . It was why, again, that he asked Landry to stay.

My stomach lurched hard.

“Mr. Carter, where is your son Landry?”

“I have no idea.” He shook his head. “I don’t. Brendon took him somewhere, but he was supposed to call yesterday, Friday, but he didn’t and now… something must have gone wrong.”

“How did Brendon know that Trevan was returning to the house?”

“After Jocelyn called him, I texted Brendon the specifics, but I got no reply.”

“Okay,” Baylor said, and I could tell he was checking off boxes, getting all the information he needed for his case.

“Later, when Trevan gave Jocelyn his flight information, I relayed that to Brendon, as well, over text, but didn’t get a reply that time either.”

“All right. Good. Now tell me, when Brendon took Landry, what was his plan?”

“To ask for the amount of the trust in ransom.”

“And so because it was for Landry, to get Landry back, the trust could be opened and the money released.”

“No,” Scott interjected, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work like that. The trust is sealed until Landry either dies or turns thirty. There’s no way to get that money out. To pay off a kidnapper, we would have had to dig into the company assets.”

“Which Brendon Arnold didn’t know,” Baylor told Neil, “because you never told him that Landry’s trust couldn’t be transferred to him.”

“Jesus,” Chris yelled, startling us all, especially since I had basically forgotten he was still there. “For fuck’s sake, Dad, call your fuckin’ bastard son and tell him to bring my brother back right fucking now!”

And even though it had been an outburst, Baylor didn’t even chastise him. The story was out by that time; we all knew what was going on, now it was simply getting Landry home.

Baylor turned back to look at Neil. “Do you have a number to reach him?”

“I’ve been calling it. He’s not answering.”

“Is it his cell number?”

“It’s one of those disposable ones.”

“Tell me what it is,” Baylor directed him, stopping the recording on his phone so he could use it.

As he gave the detective the digits, the rest of us just stood there silently.

“Okay,” Baylor said after he called in the number to someone, not sounding at all optimistic since it was a burner. “Landry was taken on Thursday evening, it’s Saturday morning now. As we’re closing in on forty-eight hours, Landry will need water and food, it’s not critical quite yet, but we’re getting there. At this point, Mr. Carter, I need you to try and think of anywhere that Brendon might be. Anywhere he talked about or told you he went.”

“I just don’t know.”

“Someone on his mother’s side, maybe,” Baylor suggested. “An aunt or uncle. Maybe cousins. Is there anyone you can think of?”

“It was only the two of them,” Scott told him. “Yvonne died in a skiing accident, but my father let Brendon live here rent-free even after his mother passed.”

“And now we know why,” Chris told his brother.

Scott nodded. “Yes, we do.”

“Please.” My voice cracked, because I was barely hanging on. When all eyes turned to me as I moved to stand beside the sitting detective, having freed myself from Conrad’s supportive grasp, I didn’t care. “I need Landry back. I need you to think of where the hell he could be.”

“Right now it’s not murder,” Detective Baylor told Neil. “Brendon will still face serious charges, but there are mitigating circumstances here. If Landry dies, though…. You need to think, Mr. Carter.”

“I don’t know!” he yelled, getting up, crossing the room to the edge where it opened out onto the enormous deck leading to the infinity pool. “He didn’t tell me anything. He?—”

“Somewhere you two have gone,” Baylor cut him off. “Someplace where no one would see you and question what you were doing with the maid’s son.”

“I don’t… there’s nowhere. I gave him scraps of my time, and he had to watch my children receive all my attention and never get any. He… he hated Landry so much because he left and Brendon thought he had everything because he had me, he had a father.”

It hit me then that maybe the money wasn’t as important to Brendon as everyone thought and perhaps that was the reason for the lack of a ransom call. If the point was to punish Neil, take a child from him, then killing Landry outright made far more sense.

“Oh shit, I know,” Chris said suddenly.

We all turned to look at him, and I was praying, please, God, let him know what he’s talking about. I lost my father too soon, don’t let me lose Landry .

“The hunting cabin,” he said, staring at his father. “I hate hunting, so does Scott, but you keep that damn thing and I always wondered why. Your friends don’t hunt. There’s no one for you to go with. But I bet your son who only wanted to please you, I bet he was down with the cabin, huh?”

“How far is it?” Baylor asked, standing and getting back on his cell phone at the same time.

“Out by Lee Canyon.” Scott provided the answer. “I can show you on a map.”

“That’s probably why you can’t get a hold of him,” Baylor told Neil. Then he spoke into his cell phone, directing people on the other end to call the Forest Service, Fish and Wildlife, getting as many people mobilized for the hunt as he could.

“But what if he’s not there?” Neil asked.

“It’s the best lead we have, and with you not being able to contact him and him needing someplace out of the way to stash Landry, I think it’s a safe bet.”

“Brilliant,” Scott told Chris, gently patting his face.

He nodded, and I could tell that he was not used to being on the receiving end of praise from his eldest brother.

I went over to Chris and took hold of his shoulder. “Thank you for that, I appreciate you really thinking about everything in the middle of all this.”

Chris tried to smile for me but he was scared and sad just like I was. “You’re welcome,” he barely got out.

“Everyone, you all have to be ready for whatever we find,” Baylor cautioned us.

I had to grab for Conrad, who was suddenly right there beside me, because my heart stopped.

“Go get him,” Conrad barked at the detective.

“I wanna go,” I told them.

Everyone yelled “no” at the same time, even Conrad. “We’re gonna sit here with Landry’s family and wait.”

I flopped down onto the couch and watched Detective Baylor start to pace as he got back on the phone, and then saw him gesture at the plainclothes officers to take Mr. Carter into custody. They put handcuffs on him and led him from the house.

“I’m gonna go talk to Mom and Jo, bring them up here,” Scott told us. “I’ll be right back.”

But it took him longer than that. The entire house was like a resort. Even Neil and Cece’s bedroom was in another building attached to the huge area we were all sitting in. I couldn’t wait to leave it and never come back.

Scott returned with his sister but not his mother. The doctor had called and told Jocelyn to give Cece a sleeping pill and that he would be there soon to check on her.

“She’s resting,” she told us all before turning to Detective Baylor. “You’ll let the doctor in when he gets here, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

She nodded and sat down beside me.

Scott got on the phone to call a lawyer because he had to go to the police station and be there when his father was arraigned, and post whatever bail was needed. He was the man of the house now.

“Call me with news as soon as you have it,” he ordered Chris, who was still standing beside him.

He nodded, squeezed Scott’s arm, and then let him go. I was surprised when Scott took hold of my shoulder as he walked by. And I understood. He loved Landry, he did, but he also loved his family, and his father was still part of it. He needed to handle all the business, both legal and otherwise. I understood all of that and held no resentment toward Scott for doing his duty to his father. I just wanted Landry.

I trembled hard, but there was no sound and no tears.

“You’ll get him back,” Conrad promised me for the second time that day.

I prayed he was right.

I sat still and silent, listening as things whirled around me. I heard the detective give exact directions to Mr. Carter’s hunting cabin as Chris gave them to him. He gave them longitude and latitude, and I sat. I heard the radio and hard-soled shoes slapping over marble and wood and saw people moving out of the corner of my eye. There was the blast of a siren, the calming voice of the lead detective, and Jocelyn squeezing my hand at different intervals. She sat shivering beside me until I took pity on her and put an arm around her shoulders. Another half hour passed, and Conrad sat down and put an arm around me, hand on the side of my head as I tried to breathe. His presence, the strength in the man, how solid he was—I would never be able to thank him enough.

No one said anything; what would we have said?

The detective walked in after what felt like days, and we were all on our feet.

“Chris’s idea was a good one. Landry’s secured. He’s en route to the hospital.”

“Is he speaking?” Conrad asked.

“He’s screaming. They can’t get him to stop.”

Oh God.

“Brendon Arnold is dead. Once the cabin was breached, he was shot twice before he could shoot Landry.”

Like I cared about some faceless guy I had never met.

“Landry’s a bit banged up, but he’s conscious, and that’s amazing.”

But he was screaming.

“We need to get you”—he turned to me—“in a car now.”

“Why?” Chris asked him.

“Because Landry is screaming Trevan’s name.”