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“You got it.” He shuffled a stack of papers. “These five look like they have the most promise. Where’d Brad go?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Does he go out this late a lot?”
“More often than I’d like for him to, but not every night, if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m sorry, love.”
I sighed. “His father passed away, and now this place is his to run. He’s terribly busy. I understand.”
“But…”
“But…I miss him, of course. I need him. I feel completely self-indulgent saying so. I have so much help around here with the baby. I don’t have to cook or clean house. All I have to do is take care of Jonah. It’s a dream life, really.”
“You know what, love? It sounds like you need a hobby.”
“I help Mazie in the greenhouse sometimes.”
“Sure, but the greenhouse is Mazie’s hobby. What would you enjoy doing?”
“I guess I’d like to finish school. Learn how to write.”
“I bet you already know how to write.”
“You know what I mean. I want to write something that moves people.”
“Do you keep a journal?”
“Funny, Brad just asked me that a few days ago.” Of course, he’d asked me if I kept one while I was hospitalized. Ennis still didn’t know about that year, and I didn’t feel like enlightening him at the moment.
“Did he?”
“Yeah. Weird, I’ve never kept one.”
“You should start. Write down your feelings. What’s going on in your life. You want to write? Then write.”
“No one wants to read what’s going on in my life.” God, no. My life had had its share of heartache and headache.
“This isn’t for anyone’s eyes but yours. It’s a start. It’ll get you used to writing.”
“Okay. Fair enough. But journaling will take about an hour a day.”
“Can you register for a few courses at a local college?”
“The closest would be in Grand Junction. I don’t want to be away from Jonah during the day.”
“You have your mother-in-law.”
“I know.”
“So he’s in good hands.”
“But he’s my baby. I don’t want to miss a minute with him. Plus, he’s still nursing.”
“All right. I can see this is a losing battle. Tomorrow we’ll go to the bookstore in town.”
“What for?”
“To get you some books on creative writing, of course.”
I smiled. I liked the sound of that. I liked the sound of that a lot.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brad
I got home after one a.m. Daphne and the baby were asleep, and Ennis’s car was still at the ranch. He was asleep in one of the guest bedrooms. I yawned as I walked into my office. On the desk was a pile of résumés with a note from Ennis to interview those five.
In the morning, Ennis would find out I had a new job for him. He was going to interview the candidates, because I was going out of town.
Only to Grand Junction, but I couldn’t tell anyone exactly where.
I’d be staying at Morey’s place until the psycho who was pilfering my money and keeping Morey from investigating my friends’ deaths showed up.
And he’d show up. In the morning—well, later this morning, as soon as the banks opened—I planned to have a large sum wired to Morey. Larger than ever before. If that didn’t draw out the villain, I didn’t know what would.
I jerked when the phone rang.
Who the hell would call at this hour?
“Steel,” I said into the phone, picking it up before it rang again and woke someone.
“It’s me, son.”
“Dad, why the hell are you calling me at this hour?”
“An offer will come in first thing tomorrow on one of our private Caribbean islands. I want you to take it.”
I shook my head, trying to make sense of his words. “What? Who wants to buy it?”
“A corporation, and they’re offering a mint for it. We’ll make over ten times what I bought it for a couple years ago.”
“What does a corporation want with a Caribbean island?”
“How the hell should I know? And who cares? You’re making money on the deal.”
“Is money the only thing, Dad? Shouldn’t we know who we’re selling to?”
“All we need to know is that they have the cash, and they do.”
Something stuck in my gut. This didn’t feel right.
“Can we possibly discuss this in the morning, Dad?”
“I’m flying out at four a.m. I wanted to reach you before then.”
“Oh? Where are you going?”
“I’m going to Jamaica.”
“Jamaica? What the hell—”
“I’m following a lead, Brad. A lead on what happened to Sean Murphy and Patty Watson.”
“Dad, I just talked to Morey tonight, and—”
“I know. I just found out as well. He’s being threatened. I’m trying to find out who they are.”
“I’m one step ahead of you, Dad,” I said. “I’m going to sniff those psychos out myself.”
I arrived in Grand Junction at Morey’s home the next afternoon. The money had been wired first thing in the morning, and I’d been in touch with Morey, whose phones were most likely bugged, so we’d only talked about the investigation. In the meantime, I parked my truck several miles away and called a cab to take me to Morey’s.
