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"Withdrawing? From being drugged once?" she asked, brows scrunching as she shook her head. "It doesn't really work that way."
"What? No. From using. You know... over-using. His pills."
"Sweets, he was drugged," she told me with a firm nod. "He has the drug test results. He had them run the test," she added.
"What? No," I said, shaking my head.
"Yes, absolutely. I just had a long talk with him about his back and everything too. He said he's been cutting back on his pills to help you around the house more. Not taking more of them."
No.
That wasn't possible.
"But Glen..." I said, then had the strangest rush of coldness through my veins even at the mention of his name.
Glen had told me he'd been using.
But maybe he wasn't after all.
And I'd gone and confronted Shep about it.
If he wasn't using, it was no wonder why he'd been so insistent, so angry with me about not believing him.
"Shep?" I called, getting to my feet, making my way toward my brother who turned in his chair at my voice.
One look at my face had his easy smile falling.
"What's the—"
"Did Glen have a key to the house?" I asked. Damnit, I was picking up Malcolm and Fallon's habit of cutting people off.
To that, Shep stiffened and, for reasons I didn't yet understand, his gaze slid across the room toward Malcolm who had been talking on the phone with his mother for almost half an hour.
"What?" I asked, looking between the two men who meant more to me than I could say. "What's going on?"
"I'll call you back," I heard Malcolm say before he was moving across the room toward me. "What's wrong?" he asked, clearly reading something on both my and my brother's faces.
"I think we need to talk," Shep said, jerking his head toward the hallway where the rooms were.
"Right," Malcolm said, reaching for my hand while Shep wheeled ahead of us toward Malcolm's room.
"Talk about what? What is going on?" I demanded as Malcolm pulled me inside, closing the door.
"About Glen," Shep said, giving me a nod. "And all the lies he's been spreading," he added.
"You're not addicted to the pills, are you?"
"No. I have no evidence to show you because it all burned up, but my pain meds were more than half full, Holl. I've never had a problem. And I never fucked up the paperwork. He was lying to you."
"But why?" I asked, looking at Malcolm, trying to understand why he didn't look as confused as I felt.
"Because he didn't want to pay for my income," Shep said. "Not even at half capacity. And if you work the timeline out in your head, Holl, it wasn't long after you came up with the idea of me doing the paperwork that—"
"That I was attacked," I filled in, seeing the pieces to the ugly puzzle falling together. "Oh, God," I said, pressing a hand to my heart, feeling a strange pang there. I wasn't even close to Glen. I barely knew the man. But he'd been my brother's best friend. The idea that he wanted to hurt either of us was more painful than I'd expected.
"But...but what about the fire?" I asked.
To that, Shep let out a humorless laugh. "I imagine that has a lot to do with the fact that I called him on his bullshit, and wanted to meet with him about lying to you."
"I don't understand, though. I mean I get he wanted the business. But the business is successful. He makes a nice living. Even without you being there."
"I think I have some answers to that," Malcolm interrupted, waving his phone.
"You knew about this?" I asked, hurt that he hadn't shared that with me.
"I had some suspicions. We wanted to have something more concrete before we came to you with this in case we were wrong."
His tone wasn't overly apologetic. I wanted to be annoyed by that, but the truth was that I understood. I probably would have done the same in their situation.
"Okay," I said, taking a steadying breath, giving him a nod.
"What did you find out?" Shep asked.
"So, my mom and her friends have done some digging. A lot, actually. I've lived with her my whole life, and know she's a powerhouse, but even I'm impressed with how quickly she's put this together. First, Glen bought a white truck five years back. And you said there were white paint chips on your bike."
"Yeah," Shep agreed, jaw tight.
"Second, did you know Glen had a life insurance policy out on you?"
"No, I did not," Shep said, tone getting rough.
"But can he even do that?" I asked, confused. "Don't you have to be a spouse or family member?"
"No, actually. It's fucked up if you ask me, but employers and business partners can take out life insurance policies on you."
"But why would he want Shep dead? Is he just that greedy?"
