Twining his fingers with hers, they lay together in silence, the cool air swirling over their heated bodies, until one thought coalesced in his brain. “I never asked you about birth control. Obviously, I’m clean…” They hadn’t talked about what would happen between them once the murders were resolved, let alone things like whether they wanted kids. Although he didn’t hate the idea of her pregnant with their baby. It wasn’t so much a caveman thing, but more a chance to build what he’d never had, a healthy family. He’d given up wanting it, but now…well, he wouldn’t put the cart before the horse. He didn’t know if she even wanted kids. Or if she did, whether she’d want to try to carry them herself or adopt.
“I have an IUD,” she said. “I got one years ago, and while there hasn’t been anyone in my life for a while, I like it because it keeps my periods lighter.”
The muffled sound of the door closing followed by a truck, no make that trucks, starting, drew his attention. Sliding out of bed, he padded to the window.
“What’s going on?” Helia asked.
He frowned. “I’m not sure, but five of my brothers just left.”
“Maybe they went to get pastries?”
Philly’s and North’s trucks were in the lineup so that was entirely possible. But given the way all of the pickup beds had tarps tied over bulky loads, he had a suspicion about what they’d been up to that morning.
“How about we shower, then find out?” he suggested. She yawned. He frowned again. “I didn’t even ask how you are this morning.”
“If I’m experiencing a wee bit of fatigue, it’s not from yesterday. It’s the good kind. Theverygood kind. Now let’s hop in the shower, then head downstairs and see what your family is up to.”
The shower took longer with the two of them, but he couldn’t have resisted Helia’s soap-slick hands sliding over his body if his life depended on it. Besides, no one would expect them up early—not after Helia’s day yesterday.
Thirty minutes later, they made their way to the kitchen. Callie, Scipio, Lovell, and Lina sat at the table, coffee mugs in hand, talking in low voices. Charley, Kendall, Mantis, and Stein were cooking breakfast and cutting up fruit.
Eight sets of eyes—nine including Sherman—noticed their entrance, but no one said a thing about what they must see. What happened between him and Helia felt written on every cell in his body. And to a one, his brothers had observational skills far above average. A necessary skill to survive first their childhoods, then the military. Still, they only received a few “good mornings,” a few offers of coffee, and a couple asked how Helia was feeling.
He poured coffee and handed a mug to Helia, who joined Charley and Kendall at the fruit. Mantis passed his spatula over to Stein and nodded for Monk to follow him out. Helia glanced at them as they left but remained with Charley and Kendall.
“Scipio and Leo can give us an update when everyone is back,” Mantis said as they entered a room along the back side of the castle. At one time, it might have been a dining room or morning room, but he didn’t know and had never bothered to find out.
Neither took a seat in the masculine space with its dark paneled walls, heavy rich drapes, and a carpet that probably cost more than many people’s cars. Oh, and a pool table. Monk didn’t think they had any form of billiards in Italy when the castle was originally built, but at some point, Roger had turned the room into a game room.
“It’s cleared out,” Mantis said.
He didn’t need to say more than that. Monk had had his suspicions when he’d seen the trucks leaving. The basement, the location of all his father’s parties. The place he’d drugged his son and encouraged women to use his teenage body for their pleasure. The place he’d told his son that if he didn’t like it, he wasn’t much of a man.
Gone. He didn’t have to ask to know that every stitch of furniture, every device, every instrument, every sheet, rope, and floor covering was gone. If he went down now, all he’d see were the bare stone walls and floor.
He might never make the trip down that flight of stairs, but it surprised him how much better it felt knowing it was empty.
“Know anyone who can smudge the place?” he asked with a wry grin.
Mantis chuckled. “From what I hear, I’m guessing Gretchen would be happy to.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
An hour later, Collin’s brothers were back from their chore, breakfast was eaten, the kitchen cleaned, and they’d all resumed their seats in the tasting room. Scipio paced the front of the room, the fire burning gently in the hearth an odd juxtaposition to the murder board that stood beside it.
“We still have open questions, but we came to a solid working theory last night,” Scipio started. Perched at one of the high tops, Leo and Kendall nodded, each with an open laptop in front of them.
Nearly everyone in the room looked at her. Helia wasn’t sure why. They’d all invested time and a lot of brainpower. This seemed like all of their fight now, not just hers, but she nodded for Scipio to continue.
“Here,” he said, turning the murder board around to display a drawing more akin to an organizational chart rather than the notes and timeline on the other side. At the top was a name Helia didn’t recognize, but connected by a line, beneath that box was Mark Pena’s name. Beneath his was his wife’s name, and under Trish’s was Roger Wilde. Branching out under Roger were three names: Justin Flannery, Kelly Carter, and Akin Miller. Off to theside were two unconnected boxes, one with Derek Weber’s name and the other listing Kurt Fisher.
“What are we looking at?” Helia asked.
“A drug ring,” North said.
Scipio nodded. “Run by Johnny Haines out of Hong Kong,” he said, pointing to the top box.
“How’d you get to that?” Mantis asked.
