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“Absolutely not. We’re doing our jobs. He’ll talk. Just not to you. He probably won’t even acknowledge you’re in the room, and I’m... I’m sorry.” His heritage, his past, was nothing he could remotely be proud of, and this was another factor in why Josiah should never know his family.
“I appreciate that. I do. But I been dealin’ with his kind a long time.”
“I never felt or believed like he does. Not ever.” He needed his ride-or-die to know that. Because Rand Granger was a pathetic excuse of a human being, but he could be shrewd and unkind. Owen needed to go in knowing the deal so he wouldn’t be blindsided.
At the top of the hill, Rand’s house was nestled into the mountains. It was as obnoxious as his father. Ty parked by the fountain in the circular drive behind a Land Rover and an F-350. A group of young children chased each other around the trees, laughing. The poor kids had no idea they were being manipulated and deceived by the ones they loved most. They paused as he and Owen closed the SUV doors, drawing their attention. Outsiders. But Ty was a half-brother to many if not all of them. He shook his head as they walked up the porch steps. His home growing up looked more resort than residential with its A-line windows running ceiling to floor.
Ty rapped on the door, his pulse on the uptick.
A girl about sixteen greeted them with a chubby baby with dark hair and big brown eyes on her hip. He held his bottle in one hand and a pacifier in the other. Was this girl another of Rand’s wives? Was this baby his half-brother too?
“May I help you?” she asked as her gaze shifted between the two of them, lingering a little longer on—and seeming leerier of—Owen.
“We need to speak with the Prophet. It’s urgent,” Ty said.
“The Prophet is in prayer, sir. He can’t be interrupted during communion with God.” That’s when he noticed her eyes. Green in color and shape, matching his own. A sister, not a wife.
“I’m Special Agent—” Did he say his last name? Did he even want to? “Granger, and this is Special Agent Barkley.”
“Granger? That’s my last name.” She smiled. “He could be a while, if you don’t mind waiting.”
A figure approached and Ty cocked his head, studying the dark-haired man with eyes equally as dark. Surely not. He couldn’t hold back a smile. “Lysander?”
The man paused in his approach and squinted.
Wasn’t it his younger brother? He’d only been fourteen when Ty had left that night. Upon further inspection, he decided, yes. It was. He looked more like their mother than he and Garrick did. He’d filled out and become a handsome man. Ty’s gullet cinched. “It’s me. Tiberius.”
His eyes widened, and he closed the distance between them. “Laurie, you may return to daycare duty. I’ll handle this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lysander ruffled her hair, then stretched out his arms, and the baby reached for him. He scooped him up and kissed his forehead.
“I’ve got Alex.”
“Yes, sir.” She darted from the open door.
Ty stared at the baby.
“Not your brother. Your nephew.” Lysander smiled.
“You’re married.”
“I am.”
“Good for you. I guess that means Garrick married?” He might be asking questions too soon, but the only way for Lysander to have a wife would mean Garrick had one.
A small divot formed across his brow. “He was. What brings you here after all these years? And why does Garrick’s marriage matter?” He glanced at Owen, but refrained from speaking to him. Guess he’d adopted Rand’s view, or maybe he was simply stunned to see Ty on his doorstep. The fact Lysander was talking to him suggested he wasn’t as opposed to Ty as Rand was.
“I need to talk to the Prophet. Laurie says he’s in prayer.” As if he actually prayed, and if he did, and there was a God, Rand wasn’t talking to Him. “Official business.” He showed his credentials. “This is Agent Barkley, my colleague and friend.”
Lysander nodded and extended his hand to Owen. “Nice to meet you.”
Owen shook Lysander’s hand. Maybe he had more Mama in him than his father. But here he was, still a believer, and Ty couldn’t let himself forget that.
“What is the official business? We haven’t had anything nefarious go on here, Tiberius.”
Bunk. But that told him Lysander was as fully immersed in the Family as he’d always been.
