He gets them all the time.”
Owen’s lips twitched before he outright smiled.
“Yeah, he’s not particularly liked. But this was a letter mailed from Canada. The letter said, “the stones you throw will one day come back to you.” Since the sender didn’t actually threaten bodily harm it got put in a file. But now I’m wondering if there’s a connection.”
It must be noted that the threats Zane receives that are creative in the way the sender is going to kill him, he pins to a corkboard in his office. Sometimes when he's feeling down and out he reads the threats to lift his spirits. He says the threats make him feel relevant. It’s a sick and twisted mind game he plays with himself. The more viable the threat the better it makes him feel.
“I can see how Zane wouldn’t give that a reread. Doesn’t sound much like a threat.”
“Yeah, nothing was done with the letter. But a few days ago I pulled it and had it dusted for prints. Something that hadn’t been done before it was filed.”
“And you got a hit.”
“Yep. Bronson Williams.”
“The suspense is killing me, brother, spit it out. Priors?”
Owen shifted his gaze to Evette and wagged his brows. “Should I tell him or make him suffer?”
“Don’t ask me, I wanna know, too. What’d you find?”
And there was Evette’s inquisitive mind. She didn’t have the first clue what we were talking about yet she wanted to sink her teeth into the mystery. One of the many things I dug about her.
Focus.
“No priors. Clean as a whistle. He owns a chain of mobile auto detailing vans. Owns a home, pays his bills, moderate business debt, never been married, no kids.”
“Family?” Evette asked and I almost smiled.
“Parents are still married. Both clean. His father retired from his position as the president of National Bank. His mother never worked. According to their investments, Mr. Williams could’ve retired ten years ago and they wouldn’t have had to change their lifestyle. Branson had a brother, from his mother’s first marriage—Aaron Cardon.”
“Had?” That was Evette. She was digging in.
All of Evette’s earlier stiffness had faded. Her mind had shifted from what had happened between us to a mystery and she was itching to solve it. I could see how her natural curiosity got her in trouble.
“Aaron died in a plane crash ten years ago.”
Evette looked crestfallen when she mumbled, “Oh.”
“Where was the crash?”
“Cyprus. Ten minutes into the flight it crashed into the Mediterranean. All four people were killed.”
“So private jet,” I deduced. “Any connection to Zane?”
“Nope. Not that I found. And I found a lot.” Owen tipped his head toward the table. “Aaron Cardon’s life reads like a book. There’s almost too much. Too clean.”
“May I take a look?” Evette asked.
“Go for it,” Owen told her then looked back at me.
His disapproving stare was back. He’d given Evette something to sink her teeth into, giving me a reprieve from having to answer for my gruff demand she eat.
Owen knew it and disagreed with me keeping my past to myself. My friend could be as pissed at me as he wanted to be but there was no need to share I had serious hang-ups about food.
God, that sounded so lame.
But it was the truth. All these years later, I still couldn’t forget all the nights I’d gone to bed hungry. All the times my mom didn’t eat so I could. The handouts, the begging. Homelessness wasn’t something you forgot. The pain in your empty stomach wasn’t something that ever went away. I could eat a thousand meals. Eat until I was stuffed and the phantom twinge of starvation would still twist in my gut.
Without acknowledging Owen’s censure I filled the pot with water and set about making dinner. Something, anything, to occupy my thoughts. A task that would unwind the ball of nerves that had taken root.
I shook my head at my stupidity. I was no longer that starving boy. I ensured my mother was never without what she needed. She’d never had to be scared again to close her eyes at night. Neither of us would ever be without a bed. I’d made damn sure of that.
Chapter 14
There was a tingle in the back of my mind that wouldn’t stop nagging.
I was conflicted as I always was when I sensed something was wrong. A fine line between being concerned and being outright nosy. But when I cared about someone I couldn’t stop myself. And I had to admit I cared for Gabe, probably