Page 94 of Last One to Know


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"James Holden doesn't mean anything to me, but he has a brother, Ian Holden. And Ian was a professor of music theory at NYU for almost two decades. Some of those years would coincide with the time your mother was in college on a music scholarship."

I sat up a little straighter. "That is interesting. Why is he in the police report?"

"James and his brother hosted the charity event together, and the NYU music department was the recipient of the money raised that night. The party was held at James's house, but he left before the event was over to fly to London. Ian was the last person on the scene. He said goodbye to my father about thirty minutes before my father was shot."

"Where did Ian go?"

"Home. He lived in a condo in Manhattan," Kade said.

"Ian might have known my mother. How old is he?"

"It doesn't say here, but it probably does online."

I took out my phone and looked him up. "Got it. Ian Holden is fifty-nine years old, and he still teaches at NYU." I paused. "My mom is forty-nine. At least, I think she is, if she was actually twenty-two when she had me. Ian would have been ten years older than her." I looked at some of the images that had come up in my search. "Ian is a good-looking man. There's a bunch of stuff here about his music and his brother the billionaire." My jaw dropped as I read through the headlines of some other articles. "Wait a second. Here's something interesting. He took a job as a guest professor at UC Berkeley this fall." I looked back at Kade. "He's in the area. He's been here since August. We need to find him. I'm going to text Jeremy and see if he can get us an address."

"If he can't do that, we can see what class Holden is teaching at Berkeley and try to find him there," Kade said.

I sent Jeremy a text and then looked at Kade. "This could be the break we've been looking for."

"Maybe. But if Ian knew who killed my father, he didn't say anything at the time. I can't see why he'd talk now. But he is a link to your mother's past."

"And your mother is connected to mine," I reminded him. "This might not be everything, but it's something."

"Something," he echoed. "We'll see."

"He was also the last person to talk to your dad." I paused. "I wonder if Ian was involved in the robbery. The police suspected an inside job. Maybe Ian was supposed to get a cut. Maybe he didn't like living in his brother's shadow."

"He could have been involved with your mom, too. A professor-student relationship."

"It's possible. Rachel warned me against trying to figure out who my biological father is. She said he's a dangerous person. Could he be Ian Holden?"

Kade held up a hand. "Hold on. That's a big leap, Brynn. All we know is that Ian taught at the university where your mother went to school—allegedly. Let's not get too far ahead."

"Far ahead? I feel like I'm constantly behind." I paused as the doorbell rang. "Who could that be?"

Kade jumped to his feet, and I followed him down the hall. I looked through the window and saw my father and a woman on the porch. "My dad and my stepmother," I said, my stomach sinking.

"Your father came back."

"Yes, but he came back with her. That can't be good."

Kade gave me a small smile. "Only one way to find out."

"I know."

I squared my shoulders as Kade opened the door. After letting my father and Vicky into the house, Kade headed down to his apartment. I couldn't blame him. I was getting tired of all my family drama, too.

Vicky looked stylish as always, wearing black jeans, boots, and leather jacket, her dark hair pulled back from her face. But there were shadows under her eyes. The last few days hadn't been easy for her.

My father looked better than he had earlier in the day. He'd obviously taken a shower at some point and changed into dark slacks and a long-sleeve gray sweater. Only his bloodshot eyes gave evidence of the stress of the last several days.

Vicky looked around the room, taking note of the broken walls and damaged furniture. "What happened in here?" she asked.

"Someone trashed the place right after my mother was shot," I answered.

"I didn't realize it was so bad," my father said, as his gaze swept the room.

"You weren't in any condition to notice much of anything."

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