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“Not if I can help it.”
The front door burst open. “Just the two Hollingsworths—I mean Hollingsworth and Calhoun—I wanted to see.”
“I thought this building was secure,” Lincoln grumbled as Kane Zegas made himself at home in a club chair beside us.
“All access, baby.” He pulled a folder out of his briefcase. “Believe it or not, your old man responded to our little letter. I have to say, I’m stunned.” He thumbed through the file. “Actually, I’m not. I am a master at composing threatening letters.”
“Ego much?” I asked.
“If you wanted a mouse for an attorney, go hire Whitley.”
“Did I hear my name?” The other man sauntered into the apartment. “I promise you want me at this party.”
“Before you begin, let me phone Teague. He should be here.” Lincoln reached for his phone at the same time our brother appeared.
“I’m the best because I know what you need before you do,” Zegas said.
“The best? Psh.” Whitley rolled his eyes. “I’m going first. My update is by far more interesting than yours.”
Zegas wrinkled his nose. “If pretending to assert your dominance makes you feel better—”
“Gentleman, can we get on with this?” Lincoln growled.
I scooted to the middle of the sofa to make room for Teague. Flanked between my brothers, I felt ready for anything.
Whitley shoved a pair of glasses on his face.
“Are those for looks?” Zegas asked. “They don’t make you appear more intelligent.”
Whitley cleared his throat as if annoyed and shook out the paper in his hand with a flourish. “Have you ever considered returning the stalking favor to your father? He’s been quite the busy man.”
I tensed. Maybe I wasn’t ready for anything. Did I want to know what he did on a daily basis? And had Lincoln asked them to tail him?
“As long as he leaves us the hell alone, I don’t give a damn what he does.” Teague folded his arms over his chest.
“Do you really believe he’s going to do that?” I asked.
“No,” he grumbled.
“He visits your mother’s grave every morning and evening,” Whitley said.
It might as well have been a slap. Those were the actions of a man who loved his family. How could my father have never stopped mourning Mother yet treated his children as he did? It was as if he blamed us somehow for losing her. Or . . . I couldn’t begin to understand the mindset of a madman.
“Is that supposed to make him human?” I muttered. “Maybe you’re mistaken and he’s using another spot in the cemetery as the portal to hell.”
Zegas snorted. “Good call.”
“I haven’t figured out any pattern to which of you he follows at a particular time, but it’s a pretty even split,” Whitley continued. “We’ve even found your detail in London, Beau. So far it consists of three people, all ex-MI6.”
“Like the intelligence agency?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
I threw my hands up but caught the throw pillow before it fell. “What is wrong with him?”
“I was going through some of my father’s things over the weekend,” Zegas said. “I found notes from his investigation back then. He mentioned there was a security detail on all of you at all times. What we don’t know is if this started before or after your mother’s death.”
“Did you find anything else in those files?” Lincoln appeared almost eager.
