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“Brendan.”
“Ms. Pike.”
“Sheriff.”
They both walk out and down the hallway.
I stand in Donny’s now cleared-out office, still holding the paper cup of coffee from Rita’s.
“Saved by the bell,” Donny says to me. “Or rather by coffee. As much as I love seeing you, I don’t think I’ve ever been gladder to see you than I am at this moment.”
“I wasn’t sure whether I should interrupt.”
“You may always interrupt me. No one is more important to me than you are, Callie.”
I warm all over. “That’s sweet, but it’s just coffee. Nothing important.”
“Anything having to do with you is majorly important.”
Flames skirt over my skin as I hand him the coffee. “Trouble?”
“Someone trashed Murphy’s place—not the bar, but his apartment above—last night.”
I nod. “I heard the sheriff talking when I was at Rita’s earlier.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Sorry it took me so long. I ended up…dropping the first batch of coffees. I had to go back.”
He smiles warmly. “Butterfingers.”
“It’s been that kind of day, I guess.” He has no idea. Except he does. He’s going through his own hell.
He glances at his watch. “And the day has hardly begun. Shut the door, will you?”
I do as he asks, and he gestures at me to have a seat.
“I guess you know what this all means,” he says.
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
“The only people who knew Murphy’s Bar was under investigation for a potential gas leak were you, me, Dale, Ashley…and my uncle and cousin.”
“What about your energy board guy?”
“Lambert? He was in Grand Junction at his hotel last night. Besides, it wouldn’t make sense for him to pull a stunt like this. He’s already been well compensated, and I still owe him a favor. He’s sitting pretty at the moment.”
“Then who? Surely not Brock and your uncle.”
“I don’t want to think that. But Brock is staying at Uncle Joe’s while Aunt Mel is in Grand Junction helping my mom. And man, they’re so much alike. Both a couple of hotheads who are prone to acting on impulse.”
I cock my head slightly, thinking. “But they wouldn’t leave a big mess like that. Would they?”
“Most likely not,” Donny says. “Unless they wanted to make it look like it was just someone doing some criminal vandalizing. You know, to throw the spotlight off them.”
I drop my mouth into an O. “Are you really accusing them?”
“I’m not accusing anyone, Callie. I’m just looking at what I know. And what I know is that Brock and Uncle Joe are the only two others who knew Brendan wasn’t at home last night.”
“It could be a random crime.”
“Yes, it could be. It’s not impossible. But it’s highly improbable.”
“What does the sheriff know?”
“Nothing yet. They’re going to investigate. But…”
“But…you’re going to bring in your own team.”
He lets out a laugh. Or a scoff. I’m not sure. “Am I that transparent?”
“No. I just know how the Steels operate. You pay to get things done.”
“Is that how our family is known in this town?”
“Well…yeah. Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
I bite my lower lip. “What do you want me to say, Donny? I love you. I have no problem with any of the Steels. But let’s be honest. You guys pay to get things done. It’s well known.”
Donny musses his hair. “Whatever. I’m not sure I even know my family anymore.”
“Sure, you do.”
“Dale, yeah. Diana and Brianna. Ava. Henry. But the rest of them?” He shakes his head. “Not so much my cousins, but my parents. My aunts and uncles. All this shit that’s being unearthed. They had to know about it. How could they not have?”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I have a hunch.”
“A hunch isn’t good enough to win a case,” I remind him.
“No shit. But a hunch has served me well in the past during discovery. When I have a hunch, I always follow up on it. Sometimes it’s nothing. But more often than not…”
My skin chills. “So you think…”
“I think only this,” he says. “I have a hunch that my family—my parents and aunts and uncles—know a lot more than they’ve told my siblings, cousins, and me. It’s a hunch, Callie. Nothing more.” He pauses a moment. “But my hunches are on target more often than not.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Donny
I skip out at lunchtime to check out Brendan’s apartment. As the city attorney, it’s my business.
Of course, my interest is personal as well.
I meet the sheriff as he’s coming down the stairs. A surgical mask covers his mouth and nose, and goggles hide his eyes. He wears light-blue rubber gloves.
“Lunch break?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’m heading over to Lorenzo’s. Want to join me?”
“I’ll take a rain check, Sheriff. I want to take a look around upstairs. Start my own investigation.”
“Have at it. Just be sure to wear gloves. We’re trying to find some prints.” He pulls another surgical mask out of his pocket. “You’ll want this. That fiberglass shit will fuck up your breathing. Good thing you’re wearing long sleeves. You got goggles?”
