For Love & Bourbon (27 page)

“She’s right.” Adam folded his arms, coming to stand beside his sister. “We don’t buy that it was just a robbery. This was planned. Probably some kind of retaliation.”

Joe’s mouth fell open. “I can’t believe what I’m hearin’ from the both of ye. Ye actually believe the IRA had a reason to want yer mother dead?”

Ava hesitated. She recognized what a long shot it was when he said it, but pride wouldn’t let her back down. “All I know is people in Fox Hills don’t just get gunned down in the street like this. Until I know otherwise, I won’t stop believing Ned’s involved.”

“Fools, the both of ye,” Joe grumbled, waving them off angrily. “I need a drink.”

He stumbled back to the dining table. Ava met Adam’s eyes and pursed her lips, her temper still on fire. Needing to release it on the target of her anger, she headed for her father’s office and slammed her fist against the door.

“Let me in!” she shouted, hitting the door a second time so hard it reverberated through the walls. Tears began to stream down her face, hot with rage. She pictured her father inside, sitting at his desk, calmly sipping a glass of bourbon while their mother rotted in the morgue. The image filled her with a hatred so strong she seriously considered breaking the door to pieces just to get at him.

When he didn’t so much as answer her request, she rested her forehead against the wood and gritted her teeth. “So help me God, if this was because of you I will make you pay.”

Shoving away from the door, she turned and disappeared into her own bedroom.

Adam watched her go in silence, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides. He would have joined her in attempting to reach their father, but then that door would have been ripped in half and he would be forced to face the old man. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet.

If his father
was
responsible, would he even be sorry? Not that an apology would ever make up for it. No, only revenge would do.

Riding on the thought, he missed the soft knocking sound on the front door. He heard it the second time, and had to release a heavy breath and relax his hands before having the ability to answer it.

Brandy stood on the other side, huddled into a soft gray pea coat and white scarf, her blonde hair tossed up by the wind. The pure emotion on her face, all sorrow and sympathy and understanding, stopped his rage like a tree stops a speeding car.

Without a word he stumbled to her, letting her hold him tight against the onslaught of pain. Proud as he was, he didn’t even care that she would see him cry. She was the last person who would ever judge him.

“Adam. God, Adam, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, pressing her face into his hair as he clung to her. She rubbed his back, wishing the movement could take away all his pain. Her heart yearned to absorb all of it, just so he wouldn’t suffer one more minute. Her eyes closed and she breathed deeply, her throat constricting with emotion.

Adam eased away from her. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“The bar’s closed tonight. Most places are, actually. The entire town’s grieving right along with you.” She cupped his face, tears welling at the corners of her beautiful eyes. “She touched so many lives. We all loved her.”

He nodded, knowing his own life would never be the same. “She didn’t deserve to go that way. I should’ve been there to protect her.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Brandy assured him. Her hands fell as she glanced through the open front door, a sad smile crossing her face. “I’ll miss her so much. In many ways, she took my mama’s place all those years ago when she ran off. And again when my grandma passed a few years back.”

Adam averted his eyes, having forgotten that Brandy had known a grief just a strong. He tended to forget that there was much more to her behind that sunny smile.

“Come inside, darlin’.” He ushered her into the house and out of the cold, sealing her inside the warmth. When they came into the kitchen, he saw that his grandfather had gone to bed. Just as well, he didn’t think he could stand the sight of the old man anymore.

Brandy wrung her hands together as she stared around the kitchen, reeling at the knowledge that Sandra would never again cook there. “It doesn’t get easier,” she remarked, her heart aching. “Losing someone you love. Especially to such a senseless tragedy.”

“My mother was murdered, Brandy,” Adam told her, his mouth set in a grim line. “It wasn’t a robbery.”

Brandy’s brows pinched together as they locked eyes. “I don’t understand.”

His face flushed as his anger over it all returned. “I don’t have proof and the cops are denying it, but Ava and I know the truth. She was killed because of my father’s connection to the IRA. They’re a terrorist group in Ireland. My family over there is in bed with them.”

She blinked, the suggestion completely out of the blue. Her head shook back and forth. “This is crazy, Adam. It makes no sense.”

“It makes complete sense.” He shoved his hands into his hair and stepped back from her, jaw tightening as he combated his own fury. “Why the hell do you think the FBI has been in town all this time? They don’t give a shit about taxes. They know my father gave money to these assholes in Ireland and now my mother’s been killed for it.”

Her hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Good Lord.”

He scowled, feeling mean and self-righteous. “And if it wasn’t for the goddamn FBI sniffing around, this probably would’ve never happened.”

The realization of it overwhelmed him with a new kind of rage. His hands began to shake as he squeezed them into tight fists. Before he could stop himself, he whirled around to ram one directly into the wall. Plaster and wallpaper shredded beneath the force of the blow, scraping his skin and giving him a blessed release for his anger. He yanked his hand free and stared down at the blood smeared across his knuckles. A morbid pleasure coursed through him at the sight of it. In his mind it was a punishment to soothe his guilt.

Brandy was at his side in an instant, inspecting his hand. He ripped it away from her and retreated, too full of ire to trust himself not to take it out on her accidentally. “Leave me alone, Brandy. I appreciate you comin’ by, but I just gotta go for a drive or somethin’ and clear my head.”

“Please don’t get behind the wheel,” she begged, inching toward him with her hands out. “I’ll drive you anywhere you want to go. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’m just pissed, not suicidal,” he snapped. “I can take care of myself. Now get out.”

Her eyes filled as her face crumpled with despair, and the sight of it killed him. He turned away from it, unable to look any longer. “Never mind. I’ll go.”

He tore out of the room, not bothering to grab his jacket, and headed for his truck.

Brandy raced out onto the front porch only to watch him drive away, his taillights fading into the dark.

AVA CAME
out of her room when she heard Brandy leave. She inspected the gaping hole in the wall her brother had created, her fingers trailing over the broken plaster. She knew that although they had both done their best to be strong for each other hours earlier, that façade had shattered. Her outburst at her father and Adam’s destruction of the family home left a static charge in the air, one that prickled her skin and chilled her to the bone.

She had heard his words about the FBI being in some way responsible for this. Part of her agreed, as much as she didn’t want to. Though it wasn’t right, she had to believe that if the FBI hadn’t come to Fox Hills and begun investigating her father, Ned may not have retaliated this way. Then again, maybe it had only been a matter of time before the entire IRA scandal erupted in their faces. Ned clearly had no qualms against murder, be it his own family or innocent people.

The entire business of it made her sick to her stomach. She didn’t blame Cooper. How could she? He certainly hadn’t wanted this. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that before he’d come to town, her life had been a hell of a lot simpler.

Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. When she saw Cooper’s name on the caller-ID, she debated ignoring it. Realizing he could possibly have more information on her mother’s killer, she answered.

“Hi, Slick.”

“
Hey, you.
”

She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, comforted by it despite everything. She moved over to sit at the dining table, where her grandfather had left the nearly empty bottle of whiskey and his glass. Pouring herself a shot, she downed it and let out a slow exhale. “Got any news for me?”

He was quiet for a moment, making her wonder if he was still on the line. When he finally spoke, there was a hint of bitterness in his tone. “
I’m still working on it. The local PD is calling it a robbery and refuses to budge on that. They won’t let me talk to the suspect.
”

“So flash that shiny badge of yours and force your way in,” she replied heatedly, not willing to accept that. “If you need me to hold Beau back while you have a word with the suspect, I can do it.”

“
That’s not how this works, Ava. I think you know that.
”

“I don’t care. I deserve the truth.”

“
I know. Which is why I’m not going to give up. But it may take some time to cut through all the red tape. As much as it kills you, you’ll have to be patient.
”

“Patient,” she repeated, refilling her glass with the last of the whiskey and tossing it back with relish. She slammed the glass down on the table and swallowed. “I ain’t ever been a patient woman, Slick. I don’t see me startin’ now.”

“
I know. Trust me, I understand what you’re going through. I know it’s hard. But there’s something bigger at work here. Until I get to the bottom of it, you’ll need to hang tight. Okay?
”

“How the hell could you understand?” she fired back, letting the hot kick of whiskey fuel her anger. “I have to put my mother in the ground because a madman wanted her dead. And now I’m being told he may get off scot free because of God knows what. So yeah, I’m frustrated and hurting and pissed off.”

“
I understand better than you think,
” he replied, his tone callous and devoid of its usual warmth. He had never once spoken to her like that, and hearing it made her realize she’d let her temper run amok.

“All right. I’m sorry, okay?” she said, leaning forward to pillow her head in her arms. Her eyes closed as she exhaled, releasing her anger as best as she could. “Tell me what happened to you. Please. I need to think about something else.”

“
I can’t.
”

She pictured his face, creased with misery and regret, and began to cry. “Please.”

“
I’ll be in touch.
” With that, he hung up. She held the phone to her ear a while longer, conceding to the wretched depths of sorrow at last.

S
he’s dead.”

Ned fixed his gaze on his most trusted confidant, a dark intensity coming over his eyes. “Are ye sure?”

Ronan nodded, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. He stood before his boss’s desk, a manila folder in his hand. “Our man in the States managed to evade capture. He says the police have arrested another in connection with the shooting.”