Page 179 of Black Bird

Gretchen shifted in her chair. “You’re not thinking—”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” Conrad turned on his heel and faced her. “Unfortunately, Gretchen … you can’t open a can of worms without them crawling all over the place.”

“He’s a decorated veteran, Conrad.”

“And?” he scoffed. “He’s a decorated veteran with no wife. No kids. No one to miss him. More importantly, he’s an obstacle I need out of the way. I don’t have time to think about it. Patricia could die any moment.”

“And what about your son?”

Conrad stared at the fireplace. “I think Brent hates me enough to stay away at this point. Let him tend to his mother. He’s already lost everything else he thought was important to him. He won’t leave her.”

“And if he does?”

“He won’t.” He gave her a hard glare. “Go find me something to shut her ass up.”

“Yes, sir.” Gretchen slowly raised from her chair, sitting her glass down on the end table and stepping out of his office.

There was a split-second of coherence when he’d stepped into the room to meet nurses who sympathetically looked at him as they checked his mother’s vitals. Pat had looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes and an oxygen mask that they had slowly taken off her face as Brent neared closer.

“Not long now, Mr. Stratford. I’m so very sorry,” the younger nurse said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I think she was waiting for you.”

Brent swallowed loudly and blinked back tears. “Has my father been told?”

“No, sir … her instructions were very clear. Only you.”

He glanced up at the older nurse that was unhooking everything but the monitor and tried to bite back his desperation for them to let him have her for just a little bit longer. She didn’t want that. She was ready to go home. The nurse looked at him and sadly smiled. “We’ll give you some time alone. Take as much as you need … you know … after.”

“Thank you,” Brent choked out as they quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind them. He took in every pale inch of his mother’s face and knelt by the bed to take her hand into his. “I’m here, Mom. Can you hear me?”

Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open again. She used whatever strength remained to weakly tighten her fingers around his. Brent wondered then, if giving her Sarah’s blood now would have been enough to bring her back from how far she’d fallen towards Death’s open arms.Wondered if she’d been close enough to it throughout the day to see whatever Annie was seeing when they’d saved her life. He prayed to God that whatever his mother was seeing now wasn’t that terrifying darkness that Annie had said was reaching for Athan Kane and cowering from Sarah St. James. He hoped that wherever she was right now was somewhere happy … peaceful. He leaned down and pressed his lips against the back of her hand, closing his eyes.

“It’s okay, Mom. You can go. I promise, I’ll be alright. You did an amazing job.”

There was a gentle squeeze of her fingers, as if that was all she could manage as a reply. He held tight to it, never looking up or moving his lips from her hand. As her grip slowly slackened, something warm flowed through him. Something infinitely deep … perfect. It broke something within him, and he sobbed—hard and silent—like there wasn’t enough breath in his lungs to free the devastation that was wrecking his heart … his soul. Somehow, he knew it then. She was gone. It was like the world itself knew what the most innermost parts of him felt in that moment. Thunder rolled outside the window, and rain thrashed against the glass. Pain … and rage, but also something like comfort and solitude that he needed so he could allow himself to accept the loss he’d just suffered.

He didn’t know how long he’d cried against her lifeless hand. When he finally had the strength enough to look up at her, his cries became louder. Brent covered his mouth with his free hand.

A soft smile was left on her mouth. One he’d never forget … for as long as he lived on without her.

Rhaena paced through her apartment. Jenkins hadn’t made it back yet but had phoned that he was at the precinct assisting on Wren’s disappearance and would come stay if she wanted him to, whenever he could get himself out of there. She’d told him to stay put, and put everything he had into it, since she and Kane obviously couldn’t do more than what the tight leash of their suspension would allow. She must have gone over that short video on her phone a dozen times to look for anything she could have missed during her walkthrough. So far, she was coming up empty, save for the obvious, and it was probably because of how close this hit to home. Denver seemed on edge ever since she’d brought him back here, looking in every room for his companion. She’d never seen this animal so active. If only they could speak.

A knock sounded on her door, and she jumped. Maybe the cat wasn’t the only one on edge. She unlocked the door, expecting Athan or Sarah, but dropped her mouth open when she met her unexpected visitor.

“Captain?” she acknowledged quietly.

“Sorry to disturb you, detective. Jenkins said you’d be here. Mind if I come in?” Foley’s expression was hard for her to read. The last timeshe’d spoken to him, she could have frozen to death by his coldness toward her. Not that she could blame him, but it did make her wonder why he was at her door when he’d made it clear that seeing her was the last thing he wanted after hearing how badly she’d let him down.

“Yeah, of course.” Rhaena stood aside and waved him in, and he entered, taking in his surroundings.

“How bad was it?” he asked, putting his hands into his pockets.

“Hmm?” Rhaena looked around, suddenly realizing what he meant. “Oh … um. It was—honestly, it was a bit much. Still makes very little sense to me. But we managed to get it together.”

“We?” Foley lifted his brows.

“Jenkins and I … Athan isn’t home.”

Foley nodded slowly and looked down at the floor in the foyer. “I apologize, Gloves. For the mess, and for the way I acted at the precinct.”

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