“Women are smart as fuck, Wing. They know all kinds of shit before we’ll ever know it. Don’t lie or try to bullshit her, and you’ll be fine.”
I think it’s the smartest thing he’s ever said. I’m not going to tell him that though, because the smug bastard doesn’t need anything else to feel self-righteous about.
Max is dozing by the time Iron calls back nearly thirty minutes later. I keep my voice low so I don’t wake her. “Took you long enough.”
“What’s up with the wall? What was on the other side?”
“Iron…” I pinch my forehead between my fingers.
“Fine, I just got to look at the photos. It took me forever to find the owner of the property. It’s deeded to Cybil Myers. She died seventeen years ago, but the property is still in her name, and so are all the utilities.”
I connect the last names. “How was she related to Ian?”
“Through marriage. She married Ian’s much older uncle about twenty-five years ago.”
“How much older?” I grit out through my teeth. Does this shit run in his fucked-up family?
“About forty years. She was only sixteen when they got married.”
“Fuck, is that even legal?” I glance at Max to make sure my outburst didn’t wake her.
“In the illustrious state of Ohio, it is. She would have needed a parent to sign off on the license.”
“Jesus, and she died eight years later? How?”
“Death certificate lists accidental as the cause of death.”
“Did you find anything else about how she died?”
“No, but I’ll keep looking if you want me to. The old man is dead now too, if that helps.”
“I hope his wasn’t accidental.”
“Sadly, it was natural causes, or so it says, at the ripe old age of eighty-six,afterhe married another young woman. She was eighteen at the time. Guess he couldn’t get her parents’ consent at sixteen, nasty fucker. She didn’t get the house when he croaked because it was still in Cybil’s name. There were never any records of it going into probate or anything. I’m thinking Ian must have picked up where his uncle left off.”
I’m too pissed off to respond, so I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. This man needs to die yesterday. “Did Cybil have any other properties listed under her name?”
“Nope, it looks like he bought this place for her right before they got married. It’s out in the boondocks. Probably some kind of bribe.”
“The wall is what separates the space from the neighbor’s portion of the roof. It’s private, but not our kind of private, you know what I mean?” I tell Iron, thanking him for everything he found and changing the subject.
“I do, I do. Have you used the hot tub yet?”
“No.” Do I sound pouty? Damn it.
“Ha, but you want to.”
“Fuck off.”
“No thanks, but it sounds like you might need to.”
“Iron,” I snarl. That’s what I get for trying to be nice.
He chuckles darkly for a few seconds, then adds, “Call me if you need anything, Wing, seriously. I can be there in two hours if I ride.” All joking recedes with the somber comment.
“Thanks, man. I’ll let you know.”
I glance at Max, who still seems to be sleeping, after hanging up the phone. The urge to leave her here and head out to the house in the rural suburb is so fucking tempting, it’s hard to keep my ass on the couch.
