Sammy stared at Dakota for an extra beat, then threw her arms around him. “Okay. I love you, Daddy.”
His expression softened as he hugged her. “I love you, too. I’ll kiss you goodnighttwicewhen I get home.”
Dakota walked over to Evangeline. “Thanks for taking care of Sammy. I’ve got a guy nearby. You’ve got his number if you need anything.”
“We’ll be fine, right Sammy?”
Sammy nodded.
Dakota walked to the door and waited for his brother.
Evangeline gazed into Sin’s eyes. “Good luck.”
He dropped a brief peck on her lips and Sammy giggled. He said nothing, but the flash of hatred in his eyes told Evangeline plenty.
* * *
At half past nine, Sin picked the lock of the Chevy Chase estate while Dakota illuminated the doorknob with his phone’s flashlight.
Once inside, Dakota pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and punched the numbers into the security system. As soon as the annoying beeping stopped, the brothers were plunged into silence.
Hours earlier, Jacoby had deactivated the home’s surveillance system, so the men were free to roam about without anyone being alerted to their intrusion. They meandered through the first floor until they found the bar, located off the kitchen. Dakota set two brandy snifters on the smooth surface and Sin poured Hennessy Cognac into each of the goblets. With drinks in hand, they made their way to the first-floor home office, which overlooked the backyard. Two accent floodlights were positioned in the grass, each pointing toward the back of the home. They painted the room in a soft glow, but the men found comfort hiding in the shadows.
Sin folded into the leather chair in the corner, but Dakota—too pent up to sit—leaned against the wall, masked by the shadow of red velvet curtains flanking the floor-to-ceiling picture window. In silence, the men sipped their brandy and waited.
The desk clock ticked off each second. Seconds turned to minutes. They refilled their snifters, returned to the office. The only sound was the rush of warm air from the furnace blowing heat through the upscale home.
Tick-tick-tick. The minutes dragged on.
Then, the front door opened and slammed shut. The deadbolt snapped into place. Light brightened the two-story foyer while the clicking of stilettos fractured the silence. Sin’s heart rate and his anger spiked, but his demeanor remained smooth and steady. Time to confront the ugly truth.
She entered the office, dropped her handbag on the mahogany desk and switched on the Tiffany desk lamp.
“Hello, Mother,” Sin said, his deep voice reverberating off the walls.
Gasping, Charlene jumped back. “What the hell? How did you get in here? I’m calling the police.”
Dakota stepped out from the shadows and aimed his Glock at her. “Do it and you’re dead,Mom.” He paused. “I’ll blow your fucking head off, have the place scrubbed and your body gone before your neighbors can decide if the sound theythoughtthey heard was a gunshot.”
Sin stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his twin. “He’s crazy. He’ll do it. If I were you, I’d cooperate. I mean, c’mon, it’s our first mother-son visit in thirty-five years. The least you could do is be cordial.”
Charlene shifted her attention from one man to the other, over and over again. The ticking clock hammered in Sin’s ears. “There are two of you?” She looked genuinely surprised. Then, she crossed her arms. “Liars. I don’t believe you.”
Dakota pulled a report from his breast pocket. “Unfortunately, DNA shows you and I are a fucking match.”
“Let me introduce you to my identical twin,” Sin said. “Dakota Luck, meet our mother, Charlene Caraway.”
“You bitch,” Dakota grumbled.
“He’s not taking this as well as I am,” Sin said. “Well, you had twins, sonaturally, there would be two of us.” He glanced over at Dakota. “Our mom isn’t very smart.”
Dakota glared at her. “I think she’s dumb as fuck.” He motioned to the sofa with his gun. “Have a seat.”
She sat on the edge of the plump cushion.
“Be good while I’m gone,” Sin warned. He left the library to pour three Hennessys. After passing out the cognacs, he planted himself on the far cushion, draped his arm over the back of the sofa, and sipped. More relaxed he could not have looked, but the fire in his gut had turned volcanic.
Charlene took a long draw of the liquor. “Why are you here? What do you want? It can’t be money, can it?”
