I swallow. “I have something…”
I don’t wait for permission. I spin and bolt upstairs to my room, breath coming too fast. I dig through my bag until my fingers close around leather and paper.
I looked through what I took off that “cop” but forgot about it when I didn’t see anything related to my dad.
But based on what I just overheard, maybe it’ll help Declan and his brothers.
“What are you doing, Molly?” Declan’s right behind me, of course. “Hiding things from me?”
I narrow my eyes. “Not on purpose.”
And then I’m moving again. Back down the stairs, forcing him to follow. I’m still mad at him for last night. For leaving me shaking and denied on purpose. For humiliating me. For making it a true punishment.
I walk into the study on unsteady legs, clutching the wallet and notebook. All three brothers look up.
Cal’s gaze is cool and assessing.
Seamus has that flat, emotionless stare that makes it hard to tell if he’s about to crack a joke or a skull.
Torin’s thoughtful, cataloguing Christ only knows what.
Declan blazes in like an inferno and plucks the items from my hands. “Christ, Molly…”
“I thought he might have something on Daddy,” I say quickly. “It’s why I was at the truckyard, for information. But I went through them later that night and didn’t see anything about my dad. So I stashed them away and forgot I had them until I heard you talking about him.” I glance between them. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“Declan?” Cal asks. “What’s she got?”
“What Roark said,” Declan says. “Proofhe wasn’t a cop. From the look of it, he was a bottom-feeder. PI on one card, bounty hunter on another, but he stinks of the kind we’d never hire to clean up or set up a sting. And…”
He opens the little notebook, flipping pages. I crane my neck but the scribbles blur—dates, names, locations. My pulse spikes.
“It’s about the people he was following. Places they went. Names of cartel and mafia. And…Cal?” Declan says, holding out the notebook.
Cal takes the book, scans it, jaw tensing. “Mario’s name is everywhere. His partner in crime? Didn’t…shit, didn’t O’Shay use a Mario?”
I swallow. “Leon mentioned a guy named Mario at some point. But…it’s a common name, isn’t it?”
“Not like this,” Declan says, eyes locking on mine. “Nothing in here about anyone looking for your father. No Heston. No Briggs.”
“Fuck,” Seamus mutters. “Maybe this Mario needs to be on our payroll. Man’s wearing all the hats.”
“Good one,eejit,”Declan says absently, but he’s clearly thinking it through.
“Mo!” Raff barrels into the room and clamps onto my leg. “Frig!”
Cal’s head snaps around. “What the…?” His expression morphs into stern-dad mode. “We don’t say things like that.”
The animal posse arrives right on cue, Bruiser weaving between legs, Monarch on high alert, Lola glaring at everyone. Lola hisses at Seamus when he gets too close.
“That’s an ugly ass cat,” Seamus says.
“Lola’s been places,” Declan replies, sounding faintly proud. “He’s also possibly evil.”
“Raffy means frug…right, Marlowe?” Tatiana peeks in, unsure if she’s allowed in the room.
My cheeks heat. “I’m teaching themThe Rich Man’s Frug.”
Blank faces all around.
