"Damn," Creed said as he sat down.How can a man turn his back on his child?“What else?"
"He's broke," Riley told him looking at the file in his hands.
"How? He owns half of the company."
"That happens when you have a gambling habit. And, Creed, he owes some dangerous people money and a whole lot of it."
"Fuck," Creed said getting up off the couch. "So Richard was right. Jarrod can't be trusted."
"It looks like it," Riley said.
"How much proof do you have, can we take it to the authorities?"
"No, I can see why your brother thought he was going crazy. What we have on paper is a guy with a gambling habit, nothing linking him to murder. And it doesn't connect him to the Terry guy either. But I can't help but feel that they are both connected to your brother and his mate's death."
"So we need more evidence?"
"Yeah," Creed sighed. "What else?" Riley didn't say anything, and it annoyed Creed, having a feeling what his friend could be thinking. "Say it, Riley."
"Look, I'm going to leave the folder here, and you can look at this when you get a chance, but I think you need to go and square things out between you and Winter."
"He's..."
"Hurt, Creed," Riley said cutting him off. "Forget about the part where his friends might be murderers. He's hurt that you didn't talk to him and instead you came to me. I know how I would feel if my mate did the same thing."
Creed didn't speak, and watched as Riley set the file down then stood and walked out of the door. He knew sooner or later that he'd have to tell Winter, but he'd hoped it was after he could prove that his Richard and Caroline's death wasn’t just an accident. Sighing, he took the stairs two at a time and went right to their bedroom. He was surprised to see the door closed. He went to open it but stopped and stepped back leaning against the wall.
Maybe I should give him some more time to cool off.
He walked back down the stairs and out the house, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that he should stay and fight with his mate, he knew for sure they wouldn't be making up anytime soon. Creed needed to think of a way to make things better between him and Winter.
* * *
Winter sighedwhen he heard Creed’s car start.I can't believe he really left.Maybe it was for the best, Winter needed time to work through some of the things that Creed said. Getting up, he opened the door and went downstairs to get something to drink and spotted the file that Riley had sitting on the coffee table. Walking over, he picked it up and went to open it but set it down. He wasn't ready to believe that his friends were somehow killers, no matter what was on paper.
Then why am I afraid to read it?
Steeling himself, Winter opened the folder and started reading. He gasped when he saw the reference to Jarrod having a child then shut it closed. It wasn't for him to read Jarrod's personal matters, and shame on Creed and Riley for doing that. He threw the folder on the table and leaned back on the sofa chewing on his bottom lip, staring at the closed file.
Curiosity ate at him, and he was just as shameful as the two other men because he wanted to know more. He snatched up the file and started reading, the entire time shaking his head in disbelief at what he was seeing. None of what he was reading could be true, not when it came to people that he saw as friends.
It was more than Jarrod having a kid he never talked about, but he was in debt up to his ass. Jarrod owed money to people with names Winter only thought were in movies. He might have a gambling addiction, but Winter wouldn't call Jarrod a killer. There wasn't much about Terry, but his name was circled in red, and a note that said might not be real.
Could this be what Terry wanted to tellme? Once he was done reading, Winter threw the file down on the table trying to wrap his head around the information.
Gods, are Terry and Jarrod working together? Could Jarrod be stealing from the company to pay off his gambling debts? I'm so confused. Or maybe Creed is right, and I just don’t want to believe it.
Nothing felt real at the moment, and he wasn't going to figure out the answer. Creed was gone, and he didn't know if or when he would be coming back. Getting up he walked over to the door and was about to turn the lock but decided against it. Winter felt as if doing so he would be locking out his mate. He turned off the living room light and turned on the lamp then went upstairs to bed.
* * *
Creed openedthe door to Richard’s house like he’d done countless times. He headed straight for his brother’s office and took down the picture that was still hiding the safe and typed in the code and sighed happily when the light flashed from red to green. Creed could have kicked himself for not remembering the number he and Richard vowed never to forget.
It was the date they’d entered the boys home and were scared out of their mind. He pulled out the file, along with a few other papers, and an envelope that had Caroline’s name on it. He sat on the floor putting the letter to the side, and opened the file scanning through the papers hoping to find something that would incriminate Jarrod or Terry. Because no matter what, Creed believed that his brother and his mate were both killed. He felt it in his bones, and he just needed to know who and why they did it.
Everything Richard had were the activities going on at Makami Architectural, updated background checks on all the employees and nothing that stood out to him. Richard was right.All he has are assumptions.There wasn’t anything about Jarrod’s daughter or his gambling debts, and he had nothing on Terry.
“Maybe we’re wrong and we’re just grasping at straws.”
He picked up the papers he’d thrown to the floor and stood, he made sure there wasn’t anything else in the safe and closed it. Picking up the picture, he found it to be the ugliest thing he’d ever seen. It’s probably why Richard used it to cover the safe. He walked down stairs taking one last look through, knowing that he wasn’t going to return to the place.
It still felt empty and cold, not because he’d moved out all the furniture, but because he couldn’t feel his brother’s presence no matter how many times he visited. Richard never got the chance to make the home what he’d hoped it to be. He walked out of the house, not looking back. He got what he needed, all that was left for him to do was make things right with his mate.
