Page 15 of Forbidden Bond

“Woman keeps secrets bigger than this every day,” Strat mumbled. “He’s a fucking maniac.”

Maybe it was in the blood.

If Lachlan hadn’t been the first, if Conn found her instead, Ronald McLeod would be dead already. She shouldn’t wish thatfate on her own father, but what other possible resolution could there be?

“I need to find out,” she whispered to her friend. “I need to know if he’s alive.”

“What the fuck happened?”

Raising her eyes to his, she wanted to pour out her pain. Somehow, Strat always brought her clarity. Something she needed right then; she’d needed it all week.

“Dad,” Lachlan said, stopping in front of him. “Please. We need to figure this out as a family. Trust me, we will work it out.”

Did he mean that? Lachlan didn’t lie, he just didn’t. But how could he accept their father was a murderer with barely a hitch? All that cop training paid off. That had to be the answer. This was his job, what he was good at. Keep a cool head, use soothing force, gentle direction. And it worked too because Ronald slapped the gun onto Lachlan’s hand.

Good.

The only sane one among them should have responsibility for the weapon. And almost as expected, the first thing Lachlan did was rid the weapon of its ammunition. Separating one from the other gave them another line of security.

“Okay, if this paper is important, gather it up. Then we’re getting in the car and leaving here. Together.”

SIX

LACHLAN AND STRAT’S car was a rental. Her brother texted the agency for pick up and left the keys with the guy at motel reception.

They bundled into Strat’s car, with him driving and her shotgun, and got to the highway without saying a word.

“How long will it take to get back?” she asked, calling number after number in Strat’s phone. Just as he’d said, no McDade phone was on. “How far are we from home?”

“It’s him. That’s all you care about,” her father said. “You have no concept of what the rest of us are going back to.”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” she said, choosing to text the same numbers, just in case. She had to be doing something. “You’re going back to a prison cell.”

“You have no proof of anything.” Good point. “I’ll deny everything and people will listen to me. No one will take you seriously, there will be no investigation. You have no credibility.”

Huh, yeah, if she went back shouting out Ronald’s guilt, who would believe her? The woman in bed with a McDade, enemy to men like her father.

Lachlan wasn’t to be underestimated. “Is the suppressed firearm the murder weapon?”

“That’s proof.”

“Proof of nothing. The gun isn’t registered to me.”

She didn’t want to ask who it was registered to or how he’d come into possession of it.

“I can’t believe this,” Lachlan murmured. “I can’t believe any of this.” Her heart hurt for him. “I told Sersha she was fullof shit when she told me about you and Manzani, but it was true, wasn’t it?”

“You shouldn’t believe everything your sister says. Ire has been pouring poison into her for weeks, months.”

Strat glanced at her. “Take it things went the McDade way?”

With the Harvest deal. Had voting been that week? Maybe.

“For all the difference it will make if Conn’s gone,” she said. “I don’t know how the cards will fall without…” Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat. “Sorry.”

He reached over to squeeze her hand. “That fucking bastard won’t die so easy. He’s out there.”

She hoped so.

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