“Exactly what you’re thinking, Young. He offered me money to off some people in Durango earlier this summer.”
“Did you ever think they were offered money to do the same to you?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, because no, I’d never even considered it. “I’ve been… distracted.” I force my gaze not to land on Lorien with Sophia in her arms. She appears inexperienced, but not uncomfortable, not that I should notice that of all things.
Christian sits in the chair, pulling my sister onto his lap. “So let’s assume your untimely death was supposed to happen, when was this?”
“Within a couple of weeks of Lorien moving in.” I make the gesture that everyone knows means give or take.
“Oddly timed,” Fitz offers.
“Could they be related?” Christian asks.
“Unlikely.” Jutting my chin to the laptop, I add, “I can include that in the search but when I did my background on her?—”
“What?” she asks indignantly.
“You knew I looked into you.”
“But like that?” Fire burns in her eyes.
I gesture from my sister and brother-in-law to the baby in her arms. “Of course like that. I would never let anything hurt my family.”
“I would never,” she spits.
“I know that.” I drop my voice until I’m speaking only to her. “But I know that because of what I found.”
“It’s invasive,” she grumbles.
“And probably should be done again,” Fitz says.
“I liked you. Past tense.” Then, just to annoy him, Lorien adds, “And your chili needs beans.”
He smiles like she amuses him. It’s there and gone before he continues, “And run yourself again. Hell, all of us. Make sure things aren’t being planted.”
“I could lose my job,” Lorien gasps.
“Wifey?”
She looks up at me.
“Your job is important. But I’m more worried about you losing your life, so let’s do as Fitz suggests. Best case, he’s wrong.”
“And worst case?” Ayla says.
“We’re targets.”
Lorien
“I need something sweet.” Ayla stands and wanders past me to the kitchen.
“Whatever resources you need, you know you have them,” Christian adds, following his wife.
Some silent communication happens between Liam and Fitz as the latter slides down that secret hall and out of sight.
Liam gingerly sits next to me, throwing an arm over my shoulder. Quietly, he says for only me to hear. “Briggs Barnett is more likely than not a killer. I’d say serial killer, but those types have a pattern, and I haven’t looked for one on him. I only discovered his history this evening.”
I turn to look him in the eyes, trying hard to fight the terror that wants to rise.
