Page 65 of Brother's Keeper

“Corbin Calloway.” She glanced up from her cell. “Has a certain ring to it. I’ve heard it before.”

My grunt of acknowledgment joined the quiet as Holland continued swiping across her phone screen. Concern unsettled my stomach, and I pitched forward to aim the vents to blow cold air on my clammy cheeks.

After a few seconds of scrolling, Holland chuckled. I glanced over to find her cell turned toward me and open to an internet search window.

“The Calloway Chronicles.” She indicated the top result. “That book series we read when we were kids. You owned all of them. Don’t you remember?”

I waved her off. “That was a lifetime ago. And it’s probably a coincidence.”

“Or a fake name. I’d guess the brown Ford isregistered to the same alias.”

She would guess correctly.

“So, that’s helpful,” she continued, “but not enough. I’ll run the plates, of course, but more for the sake of tracking the vehicle than hoping to find the owner.”

“Tracking it where?”

“To our suspect’s home, hopefully. Or as close as we can get. Fingers crossed he doesn’t live in the suburbs. No traffic cams out there.”

They would find it at the docks. Even if Donovan had done as instructed and stayed put during the hours and days I’d left him unattended, we’d just taken Maggie in the Bronco for a late-night snack run last week.

Holland plotted out loud while I made plans of my own. I needed to get ahead of this. For once, I could see what was plainly coming for me, and that was an advantage I couldn’t afford to waste.

I heard less thanhalf of what Holland said on the drive back to the Capitol. We parked and went inside with her spouting off what she intended to do the rest of the afternoon and me nodding numbly along. My mental energies were consumed with what lay ahead.

The steps of my plan were so ingrained in my mind that I didn’t pause in my brief journey through the Investigative Department. As I passed an unoccupied desk at the edge of the bullpen, I mentally opened a drawer and called out the antimagic collar I knew to be stored inside.

It slid easily into my suit coat, and I walked on, prepared for my regularly scheduled visit to Maximus Lyle’s office.

Entering, I found Maximus’s lookalike across the room, staring out the windows with his back to me. He glanced over one shoulder, his silver hair shimmering in the afternoon sun and his expressionpleasant until he identified me.

“Fitch…” He didn’t get another word out before I interrupted.

“Call them off,” I said.

I closed the door, muffling the sounds of our confrontation to anyone who might pass by. I expected this to get loud, but not for long if I had my way about it.

The older man’s body became a dark silhouette as he turned, creating an imposing form with Maximus’s broad shoulders and six-foot-plus height. The heavy drapes framed him, giving additional gravitas, but I knew the gritty, grungy man inside. The wannabe biker thug who once haunted my nightmares. The last face my parents ever saw.

“What are you talking about?” Grimm asked.

“Call off your fucking dogs,” I repeated. “I don’t care how suspicious it looks. This ends now.”

Despite the shadows darkening his features, I could tell he was smiling. “My, my, you are feeling yourself, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “Moving out on your own, doing good deeds, and now thinking you can give orders to me?”

I walked farther into the room, stopping in the space between the fireplace and the desk. “You told me you would protect Donovan.”

“I fail to see what Donovan has to do with this.”

Grimm’s tone conveyed the apathy I’d come to expect. It was as if obtaining the Capitol position had negated his interest in anything or anyone else. The cool composure could have been part of his illusion, but Idoubted it.

“The investigators found the storage units,” I explained as angry heat crept up from my chest. “Now they’re tracking Donnie’s car. It’s bad enough you don’t give a shit about Isha, or Ripley, or me, but you said you’d keep Donnie out of trouble, and I’m holding you to that.”

Grimm dipped his head in a nod. “What would you like me to do?”

“What you should’ve done before it got this far.” My fists balled. “Call off the investigation.”

He turned aside to look out the windows once more. The city sprawled beneath us, mostly low brick buildings with cars trolling the grid of streets.

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