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“Sweetheart, you have to eat something.” I look at my watch. “And I have to get back to work. I left my old man to deal with the bar and Pat Lamone.”

“Pat Lamone?” Ava asks.

“Yeah. He showed up at my place when Brock and I were talking. We shoved him off to Dad at the bar to come over here. I had to see you once I figured out Dyane Wingdam and Wendy Madigan are one and the same.”

“I don’t know anything about Pat Lamone.”

“I do.” Brock scoffs. “He’s a dick. He’s the one who poisoned Diana back when she was a freshman in high school.”

Ava’s jaw drops. “What?”

“Not only that,” Brock continues, “he made Rory and Callie’s lives hell. He and Brittany Sheraton.”

“The vet’s daughter?”

“One and the same. God, do I have some stories to tell.”

“Then spill them,” Ava says. “I’m sick to hell of being left in the dark here.”

“I should check with my fa—”

“Fuck that!” Ava snaps. “I’m done with caring what our parents have to say about any of this. They’ve kept important stuff from us our whole lives, and now we’re getting bombs dropped on us as adults. It’s fucked up.”

“I won’t disagree with you there,” Brock says. “Suffice it to say that the trafficking ring that’s responsible for Dale and Donny—and probably Uncle Talon’s abduction too—was still operating up until a few weeks ago.”

“Jesus,” I say.

“On Steel property,” Brock adds.

Ava’s mouth is open, and she tongues her lip ring. Is she going to say something? She’s got to be feeling something. Anything.

“Ava…” I begin.

“I could go into the gory detail,” Brock continues, “but I’ll save that for another time. Dad and Uncle Bryce took care of it. Destroyed all the evidence and ran the fuckers off. Turns out Brittany Sheraton clued us in on the whole thing. And Brendan, you probably know the story of Patty Watson, my grandmother’s best friend.”

I swallow. “She disappeared. After my great-uncle died at your grandparents’ wedding.”

“He didn’t technically die at the wedding,” Brock says. “He passed out at the reception and then died at the hospital.”

“Fucking close enough,” I grit out.

“Turns out,” Brock says, “that Dale, Donny, and I found Patty Watson’s remains on the edge of Steel property, right at the Wyoming border.”

If possible, Ava goes even paler.

“Who the hell killed Patty Watson?” I demand. “Why was she on your property?”

“The story is that Patty disappeared while shopping in Snow Creek when she and her then boyfriend were visiting.” He turns to Ava. “Remember the original Steel winemaker, who taught your dad? Ennis Ainsley?”

“Yeah. The Brit. I know the name, but I don’t remember him.”

“Right. He was Patty Watson’s boyfriend back in the day. He never knew she was killed. He was told some story that she up and left the country to join the peace corps, but he didn’t buy it. Rory and I went to London to meet with him, and out of sheer luck he had some of Patty’s old belongings. We found a viable DNA sample, and it matched the bones we found on our property.”

“Oh my God…” Ava shakes her head, her lips trembling.

“I’m betting whoever is responsible for Patty’s death is also responsible for my great-uncle’s.”

“Most likely,” Brock agrees, “but this all happened half a century ago. Who the hell could have been responsible?”

Ava finally raises her head and speaks. “Wendy Madigan. My grandmother.”

“Why would she be involved?” Brock asks.

“She was obsessed with my grandfather. My dad told me. What better way to send him and the woman he married a message than to have both of their best friends murdered?”

“Madigan.” I shake my head. “Jeremy Madigan, who Dad bought the bar from. All this time… All this time, the answer was hidden under our own damned floorboards. And now this bitch is still alive?”

Ava trembles at my words.

I recalibrate. “Oh, God, sweetheart. I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” she says. “You totally meant it. She was—is—a bitch. If I could erase her from my DNA, I’d do it.”

I squeeze Ava’s hand. “I wouldn’t.”

She scoffs. “How can you say that? The woman’s a menace. A psychopath. A murderer!”

“Because then you wouldn’t be you.” I stare into her beautiful blue eyes, into her soul. Damn, I stare nearly into her DNA. “Look at your father. Look at Gina. You’re all fine. Whatever is wrong with Wendy isn’t affecting any of you.”

She shakes her head, says nothing.

I squeeze her hand again, but she doesn’t respond.

“Ava,” I say. “We’re getting you something to eat.”

“Not hungry.”

“I don’t care. You’re going to eat something. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Ava

I don’t have the strength to argue with Brendan. Especially not when Brock joins in.

“I’ve been there, Ave,” he says. “I get what you’re feeling. You’re angry about the secrets. You’re resentful. You’re freaked. Our family history is dark and gruesome. Appalling. But this all happened forever ago. You need to focus on today.”

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