turn over Brendan Halloran’s murderer, or they’ll kill her like they killed Devlin.”
Teague sat up. His first instinct was to deny that James would go to those lengths, especially when he knew Teague was already looking for the woman who shot Brendan. But, as much as he wanted to like James, he couldn’t trust the man with his sister’s life. The years had a way of changing people. He hadn’t expected the Hallorans to gun down Devlin. He couldn’t afford to underestimate them again.
“I have some leads.” He slipped out of bed and yanked on his pants.
“What?”
“You might be totally okay with putting our family in jeopardy in a grab for power, but I’m not. I started looking into Brendan’s death as soon as I saw which way the wind was blowing.” He stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. “I know it’s a woman. She was dressed as a stripper, but none of the other girls in the club knew her.”
“That’s not enough.”
“No shit.” He closed his eyes. “Devlin…” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Devlin managed to get his hands on security tapes from the gas station across from the back entrance. I haven’t had a chance to look at them—”
“Bring them. We’ll look at them together.”
Teague released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t wanted to touch those tapes. Not alone. They felt like his last link to Devlin. It was a stupid feeling. His brother’s life was about more than just computer work. But it was the last thing he’d done before he died. The wound was too new, too raw, for Teague to be able to poke at it without hurting.
But he could do it with Aiden.
“Okay.” Teague never thought he’d stand with his older brother after learning Aiden wanted this goddamn war. The time for finger-pointing and the blame game was over. They’d both lost a brother. It didn’t make what Aiden did right, but there was only one man who ordered that hit. Halloran. He might as well have pulled the trigger himself. It didn’t matter if it had been James or Victor or even that little shit Ricky. That hit wouldn’t have gone down if one of them hadn’t given the go-ahead.
“Aiden…” It was harder than it should have been to say what he needed to say. “This isn’t your fault. I know I said it was, but—”
“Teague.”
He stopped. “Yeah?”
“As much as I appreciate the thought, it’s not up to you to absolve me of this. It’s not something anyone can.” The guilt was so thick in Aiden’s voice, it was hard to make out his words. Teague wanted to comfort him. He wanted to say that it was bullshit and that Aiden couldn’t have known what would happen.
He didn’t.
Because his brother was right. Aiden had known the risks in putting Teague forward as a candidate to marry Callie, and he’d still gone ahead with the plan. Maybe their father had been the deciding factor, but Aiden had supported him. He bore the guilt for that. Hell, they all bore guilt over this. If Teague had been faster with the investigation, maybe he could have stopped them from killing Devlin. If Aiden hadn’t helped orchestrate an O’Malley-Sheridan alliance...If anyone had stopped to think that Victor Halloran might not take the insult lying down…If, if, if...
No one could go back in time and save Devlin, no matter how much they all wanted to.
But they could save Carrigan.
“I’ll be home in twenty.”
“Good.”
Teague hung up and turned to find Callie standing in the doorway on the bedroom, dressed in only his sheet. The concern on her face said she’d heard enough to be worried. “What’s going on?”
It was tempting to tell her that nothing was wrong and keep her from worrying, but she deserved to know. She was as much a part of this as he was. “Carrigan’s been taken by the Hallorans.”
She went pale. “Have they…?”
“She’s alive.” Aiden hadn’t said what kind of condition she was in, and Teague had been afraid to ask. He knew the reputation the Hallorans had as well as the next man. The thought of his sister in their hands…Fuck. He’d failed Devlin. He wouldn’t fail Carrigan. “I’m going to save her. I have to.”
Callie nodded. “Of course. If they haven’t…They must want something.”
“The identity of Brendan’s killer.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “They gave us twenty-four hours to do damn near the impossible.”