Page 67 of The Meaning Of You

Lachlan shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe Davis had something important with him that day and they’re still looking for it. Maybe they tried after the accident but couldn’t find it. Davis’s death might’ve been an incentive to look again. I really don’t know. As for telling the police, if I had said something at the time, who do you think would’ve topped their persons-of-interest list? Davis and me, most likely. And if I’d started asking a whole lot of questions, it could’ve put both of us in the firing line from whoever killed Justin. Becauseifthey took out Davis as well, then they mean business. Business that you and I want nothing to do with.”

Nick gaped. “You’re forgetting, it’s not like we have a choice here. They’re looking for something and we have no idea what it is.”

Lachlan softened his tone. “All I know is Justin dealt with a lot of nasty people. Any one of them could’ve been responsible for his death. Not that Justin was all bad himself. He helped an underground railroad that got victims of domestic abuse away from their abusers and into a new life. In the worst cases, he did it for free. His father killed his mother when Justin was seven, so you might say he had a vested interest.”

“Jesus.” I didn’t want to feel sorry for the guy, but shit.

Nick remained quiet. Too quiet. I thought about his own mother’s experience and how conflicted that made him. I pulled his hand onto my lap and wrapped my other hand around it. He stared at the screen without seeming to really see it, his right leg jiggling anxiously against mine. I pressed my thigh into his and the jiggling settled.

“So, you just walked away?” I asked in an accusatory tone that made Lachlan’s eyes widen.

“No.” He huffed. “Of course not. What do you take me for? I tapped all my sources but there was nothing to find. Zero. Nothing to link the two incidents other than the factIknew Davis had visited Justin the same week Justin disappeared. Hardly a smoking gun and certainly not enough to risk sticking my neck out with both the police and whoever killed Justin.”

“Jesus Christ.” Nick slumped in his chair, looking as shocked as I’d ever seen him. “Do you at least have a last name for this Justin guy?”

Lachlan’s uncertain gaze flicked between us. “Leonard. Justin Leonard. Although I doubt it’ll help you any. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t his real name.”

I released Nick’s hand to write it down, then threaded our fingers together again while he asked another question. “How far from the accident site did he live?”

Lachlan raised a brow at our joined hands on the table but said nothing. His fingers drummed on the table as he answered. “Five kilometres or so, maybe more. I’ll send you the map link, but it was sold over a year ago.”

Nick and I shared a look. His phone dinged and he clicked on the link. We both fell quiet, and I figured he was thinking the same thing as me. Justin’s house and the accident site were way too close for comfort. Nick closed the map and we returned to the call.

“There should be a fat file on Justin’s death with the police,” Lachlan asserted. “I heard they went through the place with a fine-tooth comb when his body was found. No one had reported him missing prior to that.”

Nick shook his head. “And they never made a link with Davis’s accident that happened around the same time?”

Lachlan shrugged. “I don’t imagine there was any reason to, especially since no one could say exactly when Justin was killed.”

Nick blew out a long sigh and I pressed against him, hoping to offer some comfort. Receive some too, if I was being honest. He leaned into the touch and shot me a grateful look.

“Is that the last of the secrets?” he asked in a slightly broken voice that begged the answer to be yes.

Lachlan nodded. “The last of mine. I can’t speak for your husband.”

Nick eyed him speculatively but let it go.

I interrupted the standoff. “You must have contacts you could reach out to? People who might know if Nick was being targeted and by whom. And maybe what they were looking for.”

“Mads is right,” Nick agreed. “There must be something you can do.”

Mads?I turned a frown on Nick, but he was clearly unaware of what he’d said as his gaze remained fixed on the journalist.

Lachlan’s jaw worked in irritation. “Okay, fine, I’ll put some feelers out for you. It’s all I can do. Meantime, if I were you, I’d avoid the townhouse since they’ve been there. Find somewhere else to stay until this sorts itself out.”

“Maybe it was the laptop?” Nick mused, sounding hopeful. “It was in the caravan, after all, not the townhouse. If so, they have it now. Maybe we have nothing to worry about.”

Lachlan grunted. “Let’s hope you’re right. I’ll call when I have something or when I’ve exhausted my options. Don’t be chasing me up or you’ll just piss me off. Now good night.”

The screen went black and Nick pushed the phone away. He stared at our still joined hands, puzzled, like he couldn’t work out how they’d got there. “Guess I was more nervous than I thought.” He slipped his hand free and dropped it into his lap.

“You need to go wash it?” I indicated his hand. “I mean, you never know, right?”

His flush deepened. “That’s not what...” Then he caught my grin and groaned. “Shut up, will you?”

I chuckled and pushed my chair back, turning it to face him. “I didn’t realise Davis’s accident happened so close to here. You never mentioned it.”

He shrugged. “No need to. Coincidence, right? Besides, it didn’t really click until we talked at New Year and you showed me around your house.”

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