“He bought you a video game.” Bo crouched to be on Daytona’s level. “That’s what he meant about your vice. Video games. Someone must’ve switched the package.”
Daytona remained still. Eyes wide. Good. At least he listened.
Time for Lucky to make his case. “I sent my gift to you at the farm, not your dorm. Hell, at the time, I didn’t know you’d already moved into your dorm.”
Daytona crumpled. “Well, who else could it have been?”
Who else indeed? Bo rested one hand on Lucky’s knee. God, the amount of support in one simple gesture. “While I’m all for getting to the bottom of this, we have a more pressing matter. Who tried to kill Lucky?”
“I forgot about that.” Daytona shot to his feet. “The cops who brought me mentioned a video. Can… Can I watch?”
Bo nodded. “I’ll see if it can be arranged.”
Twenty minutes later, they sat in front of a laptop.
Lucky’s over-wracked brain didn’t shake out any more clues. The video started, showing Daytona in the hallway, pacing back and forth before poking his head into a room—presumably Lucky’s hospital room. He stalked back down the hall.
The next clip, taken hours earlier by the time stamp, showed the same man entering the room. No, wait. Not the same man.
Daytona spoke for them all. “Aw, hell.”
Chapter Twenty
Lucky’s heart battered his ribs. Until seeing the proof with his own eyes, he’d held out hope for a mistake or someone else from his past finally catching up. No one deserved this shit. Though the figure’s face stayed hidden in shadows, the camera captured enough detail to make out the identity of the man who’d paid Lucky a visit.
Daytona staggered to his feet. Bo caught him and eased him down on a chair.
A bit of wriggling pulled Lucky’s chair closer. He joined Bo in putting an arm around Day. Poor guy had to be wrung out by now.
“Why…? Why would Bristol do something like that? Why isn’t he glad you’re still alive?”
How in the world had Daytona endured so much crap in his life and remained naïve? Now wasn’t the time to share hard facts about another Lucklighter. The kid had been through enough for one day. Lucky addressed the detectives. “The guy you’re looking for is Bristol Lucklighter, like we suspected.” To Daytona he said, “How is it you got ahold of Bristol’s car?” It wasn’t like the asshole to share his toys.
“He… he gave me the keys and asked me to pull it around to the hospital entrance.”
“Had he ever let you drive his car before?” Not likely.
“Well… No.” The Lucklighter crease appeared between Daytona’s brows. “Used to say he’d kill me if I so much as looked at it, when he talked to me at all.”
“And you weren’t suspicious when he gave you the keys?”
“I assumed maybe he was being nice, Daddy being sick and all, and me finding out about you.”
No one ever accused the Lucklighter boys of being too smart. “He set you up. Even pointed you in the right direction, didn’t he?”
Daytona’s silence spoke for him.
One of the detectives took charge. “I’m going to need a statement from you both.”
Lucky clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Sure.”
***
The best view in the world might be the Greensboro Police Department’s parking lot, which meant freedom. Stars overhead in a clear sky. Damn. Staying up late again. Exhaustion pressed down on him, leaving Lucky disoriented, or maybe it was a combination of exhaustion and painkillers.
Jimmy’s Ford Escape easily blended with a dozen other cars, but his bright-as-morning-sun hair positively glowed from a street light’s glare.
Bo kept pace two feet behind Lucky, offering quiet comfort.
