“He told me. Rocco approached him to talk about a shed on the property that had stuff from the old cabins in it.” She pulled her phone out. “Oh my God, they left together ten minutes ago.” She turned her phone to show Rory at the door of her condo walking out with Rocco. “Hurry.”
“You stay back, Gale. I mean it.”
Yeah right. She never listened before and she sure the hell wasn’t going to now.
39
FINALLY DONE
“Thanks for letting me check this out,” Rory said when he shut the door to Gale’s condo. “I appreciate it. Though I’m sure there isn’t much to find in there.”
“Gale still at work?”
“I think so,” he said. “She was running late on a call or something.”
“Does she know what you’re doing?”
Rory didn’t like the questioning.
Didn’t Gale tell him that Rocco didn’t talk much? Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier?
But Gale had said that Rocco was odd and if there was something in this shed, then it’d be helpful.
He’d just go in aware as always.
“I didn’t say anything. If I’m not there when she comes home, she’ll just wait. You know, we don’t keep tabs on each other like that.”
Rocco let out a grunt. “You should. That was my mother’s problem. She never put her foot down with my father. Let him do what he wanted and call all the shots.”
“Is your father still around? It’s the first you’ve talked about him.”
“He’s around,” Rocco mumbled.
Rory couldn’t think of anything else to ask and didn’t want to turn this into something more than it might be.
They walked toward the shed that sat at the far edge of the condo property, its silhouette hunched against the skyline like a relic of another time. Unlike the shiny steel buildings that had sprung up everywhere else, this one was old, weathered wood and peeling paint, the kind of place that seemed to hold on to secrets.
Why keep something like this? Daniel wasn’t sentimental. Which made Rory wonder if it was Daniel hiding something here? Or was it Kane’s domain?
Rocco jangled a massive key ring, his fist wrapped on grimy twine hanging off with each key clinking like a warning. He found the right one, shoved it into the lock, and the door creaked open with a reluctant groan.
“Go on,” Rocco said, his tone flat.
“I’m not sure where the switch is. It’s pretty dark in there,” Rory said. Being aware meant keeping people in front of him.
Rocco stepped in first, moving with a confidence that made Rory’s stomach knot and his hair stand up. A snap of the switch, and the overhead light flickered alive chasing the shadows to the corners. Tools lined the walls. Sharp, heavy, threatening in their own right. Rory’s ankle holster felt like both a comfort and a curse; to reach for the gun without cause would only draw suspicion, but something was off.
“There are some bins and boxes over there,” Rocco said. “Stuff left over from the houses that were here before. Kane or Daniel liked to keep mementos. Victories, I guess. Or that is what Kane called it.”
“Victories?” Rory’s voice echoed faintly in the small space.
Rocco tugged down a bin, then a box, opening them with a heavy thud. Inside were fragments of other lives. Welcome home signs, chipped stained glass, forgotten keepsakes. The air seemed to thicken around them, tightening his airway and making his skin clammy.
Every warning signal in his brain was going off to be alert. He didn’t want to overreact, but he wasn’t going to pretend to ignore his gut. It hit him now, that everyone else with a tie to the McGregors seemed to be blocking him, but not right now. Rocco was beinghelpful. Why? Was Rory too eager for any crumb that he got blinded before now?
“They made their money preying on people,” Rocco said, his tone cold. “And this was their reminder that they always win.”
Calculated. Devious. Two things that he’d always felt the McGregors exhibited.
