Page 191 of Black Bird

“I don’t really know how many other ways I can express my apology for that, Sarah. You have to know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Wren. We’re not fond of each other, but I’d never hurt her.”

“I believe you, Brent.”

He chewed his bottom lip. “I don’t know for sure. But … yes. I suspect he could have something to do with it. Oreverything. The problem is, I can’t find any proof. I’ve spent the last two hours going through any appearance he’s made that the press was able to dig up, and if he did do it, he’s getting a lot better at covering his ass.”

“I’m impressed. That’s a good place to start.”

“Yeah, well … I’m nodetective, I guess.”

Sarah huffed a laugh.“Well played.”

“I thought so, too.” The corners of his eyes tightened in a smile that didn’t curl his mouth. “I don’t really have anything other than my suspicion, Sarah. I’m sorry. I wish I could be more help. I wanna find her as much as you do.”

She was quiet for a moment.“Why?”

He matched her silence. “… I dunno.”

“I think I do.”

He drew his brows together. “Wh—what do you mean?”

“Nothing. Look, um … is there any chance we could all be civil around each other and meet up? For Wren’s sake, at least? Maybe tonight, or tomorrow?”

“I … ah … I can’t do it tomorrow. I’ve run into a personal issue of my own. I need to take care of some things. I’m not sure how much of my day that’s gonna take up.”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He debated whether or not to tell her, but Sarah had always been so kind to his mother. And Patricia adored her. Sarah did, after all, give him an opportunity to offer that blood to save her life. It wasn’t her fault that Pat had chosen not to use it. “… Not really. Mom died.”

“No …”Sarah grew quiet for a moment.“Brent, I—I’m really sorry … she was a really good woman.”

He swallowed, softly nodding. “Yeah … yeah, she was.” He glanced up, a familiar SUV catching sunlight as the back door opened and shining a blinding glare into his eyes. He narrowed them at the figure that stepped out and cursed under his breath.

“What is it?”He watched his father step out and walk into the pharmacy across the street, a lone bodyguard trailing behind him.“Brent?”

“Call it fate, but I’m looking right at the son-of-a-bitch. He’s going into Finch & Hammel across the street.”

“The drug store? Are you at Bunker’s?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna follow him. I’ll call you back.”

“No! Brent, you can’t follow him. You’ve still got a restraining order against you. You’re a lawyer. I don’t have to tell you what happens if the shit goes south.”

“Yeah, I’ll deal with that later. If he’s got her, I’m not missing any more opportunities. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Brent!”

He hung up on her and laid cash down on the table, snapping the laptop shut, and scooting out of the booth.

It seemed comical, Conrad Stratford thought as he glanced behind him at his bodyguard who was carefully watching behind him as he browsed through aisles in the small pharmacy downtown. Not only had he completely forgotten in the past few years what it was like to do his own shopping, but it also seemed rather ridiculous to be seen with a bodyguard while poking around awkwardly in the first aid supplies with a bloody paper towel on his right ear. It gave the impression that his security wasn’t worth the pretty penny he paid them.

It wasn’t like he could take protection down into a musty basement where he was unsuccessfully keeping a hostage that was too smart for her own good. He hadn’t expected to see Gretchen storming through the hallway with red splotches on her chest and coffee on her blouse. Add that to the list of idiot things that woman did on a regular basis. Perhaps he couldn’t even say that, seeing as he marched straight down the steps only to find himself fighting the redhead off as she made a bold attempt to slash his face with a piece of broken glass, and ended up nearly taking off his ear. Luckily, it had slipped out of her hand as she hit him, and he spent a few minutes wrangling her to the ground before Gretchen came back to help subdue her. She wouldn’t be getting out of what he’d made sure to put her in after that. Nor would she be waking up anytime soon. Conrad had practically sat on Wren’s back, holding her arms behind her as Gretchen put her out with chloroform—and this time, he made sure to tape that bitch’s mouth shut.

Gretchen made it clear that she wouldn’t be making any runs into town, and he didn’t feel like conjuring up a story to tell emergency services if he walked into the hospital where his wife refused to see him. Didn’t want to risk running into his son, either. Conrad stuck a few packages of gauze and tape into his basket, grumbling under his breath.

“Hmm …” a familiar voice said from an aisle over. Conrad looked up to see Brent’s eyes between the bottles of rubbing alcohol and peroxide. “Looks nasty. You should probably get that looked at.” So much for thinking Boston wasn’t such a small town.

“Brent.” Conrad blinked. “You shouldn’t be here.”

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