Jake didn’t havethe faintest idea how he’d wound up playing buddy-buddy investigators with Cal fucking Bennet.Or why he’d thought it’d be a remotely good idea to ask Cal about Nate fucking Bennet.
Jake didn’t know what the hell was going on with him, but he figured the blame lay somewhere on his dead father’s shoulders.
So he focused on that.How Everly had led them here, to whoever was threatening Cal.How that all connected to the Harringtons and his dad’s hunting accident made absolutely no sense, but he couldn’t deny there seemed to besomeconnection.
Maybe it’d be nothing, but Jake wasn’t washing his hands of this until he was sure.
So he drove to the wrestling school in a nondescript, warehouse-looking building on the outside of town.Inside was fairly nice, though.A big reception area with a store of wrestling supplies.From deeper inside you could hear the thuds and grunts of actual wrestling going on.
A young girl stood behind the front desk looking at them skeptically.But she flashed a polite customer service smile when they approached.“Welcome to Swenson Athletics.May I help you?”
“We’re needing to talk to Mr.Andrew Swenson,” Jake said.To save time, he pulled out his detective’s badge and showed it to the girl.“Is he here?”
She blinked at the badge, then at him, then nodded wordlessly.“Um, yeah.I’ll just… get him.”
She scooted from behind the counter, gave him and Cal one over-the-shoulder glance, then disappeared into a hallway.When she reappeared a few minutes later, she gestured them forward.“Mr.Swenson is in the last room in the hall.He said to come on back.”
Cal took the lead, which might have irritated Jake if he knew what he was after coming here.But he figured the guy being threatened could lead.
For now.
They walked down a short hallway adorned with giant pictures of wrestlers wearing medals or holding awards.The door to the last room was open, and a man sat behind a desk.
He eyed them as they entered.He didn’t look the same as he had in high school, but Jake figured he didn’t either.Still, under the right circumstances, he might have been able to place him without knowing who he was.
Cal stepped forward first, reaching across the desk.“Cal Bennet.”He held out his hand for a shake, and when the man didn’t take it, just shrugged easy as you please.Cal pointed at Jake then.“This is Detective Jake Hayes.”
Andrew eyed Jake.“I know you.”
Jake nodded.“Yeah, we went to high school together.”
Andrew nodded slowly, as if he was putting that memory together.But Cal had used the worddetectivevery purposefully, and Jake knew when someone was at ease with a cop in their space.
So he didn’t offer anything else like he normally would.An introduction into why they were here and what they wanted to ask him.
No, he let the silence stretch out, watching Andrew for some kind of reaction.
But nothing changed from wary distrust.“So, what is this about?”he finally asked.Not jumpy at all, just kind of pissed.“Something in Marietta?Because I’ve got to tell you, I haven’t been back in over a decade.”
“We had some questions about your… art,” Jake offered, keeping it purposefully vague.
“Myart?”The guy looked at both of them like they were crazy.He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head.“I think you’ve got the wrong Andrew Swenson.”
Cal frowned at him.“Your uncle is Daryl Everly.”
“Yeah.So?”
“So, he said it wasyourart that was hanging in his living room.”
Andrew laughed then shook his head—both actions coated in bitterness.“I don’t know why that asshole told you that.I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.I’m awrestler.”He gestured around him like those two things were obviously mutually exclusive.
He had a bit of a point, because there was no art in this office.It was all bland colors and wrestling paraphernalia and clutter.
And he’d called his uncle—who had talked in such glowing terms abouthim—anasshole.
Obviously, if he’d been the one to send Cal threats, it made sense he’d lie, but the man seemed so genuinely baffled.
And was calling Daryl Everly anasshole.
