Page 46 of Scarred By Sin

Then raised voices.

Brook stepped out of the greenhouse and into the July heat. The transition was immediate, from the humid, enclosed world of the greenhouse to the open, bright glare of the property, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust. Two men were standing near the gravel drive that ran alongside the structure, and she recognized both before she’d even taken a step.

Dale Ellingham and Cal Brennan faced each other, with the kind of rigid posture that suggested the argument could turn physical at any moment. Dale’s face was flushed, his collar loosened, and whatever composure he’d carried into the courtroom that morning had been stripped away entirely. Cal was quieter in his anger, but the tension in his frame was unmistakable. The gravel between them had been scuffed by their shoes, and neither man was making any effort to keep his voice down despite the forensics team working fifty yards away.

The emergency hearing had been this morning, and from the expression on Dale’s face, the result hadn’t gone his way.

“This is far from over,” Dale was saying as Brook approached. “Gwenyth cannot remain on this property without supervision. It’s negligent, it’s dangerous, and any reasonable judge will see that once the evidence is properly presented.”

“The judge saw it just fine this morning,” Cal replied, his voice low and controlled. “Gwenyth has legal representation now, Dale. You can’t steamroll her the way you’ve been trying to for the past few months.”

Dale turned when he registered Brook’s presence. Whatever he observed in her expression didn’t improve his mood. He directed his frustration toward her.

“The second your forensics team is finished in that greenhouse, I want you and your people off this property.”

“That isn’t up to you,” Cal exclaimed before Brook could respond with an attempt to de-escalate the situation. “It’s up to Gwenyth. And she wants them here. She wants them to find out who killed her father.”

“That’s bullshit.” Dale’s voice cracked on the word, and the frustration that had been simmering beneath his composure for days finally boiled over. “You don’t know what Gwenyth wants, Cal. None of us do, because she’s not mentally there. She talks to people who aren’t in the room. She doesn’t eat for days. She wanders the house at all hours like she’s looking for someone who’s been dead for thirty years.”

He jabbed a finger toward the mansion.

It was then that Brook caught sight of a curtain being slightly parted on the second floor.

“When the next hearing is set, I’m going to prove it. I’m going to bring in physicians, medical records, testimony from everyone who’s watched her deteriorate, and the court will see what the rest of us have known for years.”

“What medical records? What physicians?” Cal practically barked out a laugh of disgust. “If you had been the loving uncle you’re trying to portray in court, Gwenyth might have had the proper care instead of…”

Cal let his voice trail off, and Brook wasn’t sure if it was in frustration or to prevent himself from making an admission. After all, he had taught science his entire career. He would have the knowledge to make anti-psychotic medication.

Had Owen Pruitt been truthful?

Had he merely been bringing Gwenyth natural supplements?

Cal continued to mutter under his breath. Brook only caught small fragments before Dale turned on his heel, walked back to his car, and slammed the door hard enough to echo off the stone portico. The engine eventually turned over, and gravel sprayed behind the tires as he completed a U-turn right into the lawn, then drove down the lane, a cloud of dust hanging in the air long after the car had disappeared. The dust settled slowly over the gravel and the grass, drifting in the still morning air like something reluctant to land.

Cal slid his hands into his pockets, his gaze shifting from Dale’s vehicle to Brook.

He shook his head in remorse.

“I’m sorry about that,” Cal said after a moment.

“Don’t be. Emotions are running high.” Brook positioned herself beside him, both of them facing the driveway. The morning sun was warm on her shoulders, and the baby had shifted during the confrontation, settling lower, pressing on her hips. “In my experience, people have very different responses when met with this kind of news. Dale is taking his frustration out on the people he sees as a threat to his plans.”

Cal nodded in agreement.

“You’d think he’d want to know who killed his brother. Or who might be responsible for the seven women buried in that greenhouse. But all he can see is the property value and his bank account.”

“Grief takes different shapes,” Brook said, though she wasn’t entirely sure that what Dale was experiencing qualified as grief. She turned to face Cal. “Maybe you can help me with something. All of Nestor’s equipment is missing from the greenhouse. Microscopes, journals...all of it. Everything a researcher of his caliber would have accumulated over a decade of work. It’s all gone.”

“It’s probably in his lab.”

“That’s the thing,” Brook said as she monitored his reaction. “We can’t find the lab.”

“It’s inside the house,” Cal replied as he gestured toward the front door. “Somewhere in there, though I don’t know what room. As close as Nestor and I were back then, the man never showed it to me. He was private about certain things.”

“Inside the house?” Brook was skeptical of Cal’s answer. “Are you certain? Porter gave my colleague a tour on the day we arrived, and there was no lab to be found. Can you recall if there was ever any construction on the property? Any renovation work that Nestor had done?”

“Yes, actually. Nestor had some work done on the kitchen at one point. And then to the guest cottage, I believe. I remember seeing a crew out here a time or two.”