There was nothing hanging on the walls. No photos on his desk. Not so much as a cupholder resting on the small, round conference table on the side of the room.
He usually didn’t bother taking off his Stetson, not even when he was working. This afternoon was no exception. Plus, he was licensed to open carry his weapon, which he always did.
Because of his military training, he believed in being prepared for anything. He could also pack up and exit the room in seconds without leaving a trace that he’d ever been there.
That was the man Creston Bolander would see when he walked through the door.
A rap of knuckles sounded on the outside of his door, which was ajar. Gage swiveled his head toward the sound. “Hey, Gil!”
Gil Remington stepped into the room, smirking. “Could you really tell it was me by the sound of my knock?”
“Yep.” Most folks gave themselves away with small, innocuous tells like that — the things they did in the same way over and over again without realizing how easily it identified them.
“You never cease to amaze me.” Since Gil muttered the words beneath his breath, Gage pretended like he didn’t hear them.
“The sheriff tells me I have a visitor on the way.” He was interested in hearing Gil’s take on it.
His boss shut the door and moved across the room to grab the black vinyl chair resting in front of Gage’s desk. He twirled it around and straddled it. “Creston Bolander is demanding to see you alone. No cameras or recording devices. You don’t have to agree to it. We can renegotiate the terms when he arrives.”
“I’ll stick to his terms.” Gage wasn’t about to jeopardize his best opportunity yet to speak to someone who’d known Mick while growing up.
“I was afraid you’d say that.” Gil folded his arms on top of the chair, eyeing him with concern.
“I’m an Army Ranger. I’ve got this.” Gage wasn’t easily rattled, not even by cranky old rich people.
“There’s something I haven’t yet told you about the Bolanders,” Gil said slowly.
“Oh?” Gage leaned his forearms on his desk, anxious to sponge up every detail to be had on the topic.
“About twenty-five years ago, Creston Bolander’s wife divorced him because she claimed he’d been unfaithful to her.”
“I am aware.” Their divorce was a matter of public record.
“What you may not be aware of is that one of the women his ex-wife pointed a finger at was Mick’s mother.”
“You’re right.” Gage’s interest was thoroughly piqued. “I didn’t know that.”
“She couldn’t prove anything and ended up with a much smaller divorce settlement than she’d been hoping for.”
“No big surprise there.” Gage stretched his hands high over his head to crack his back. “I’ve yet to meet a person who was happy with their divorce settlement.”
“I hear you. That said, if you’ve ever put a photo of Mick Lawton side-by-side with Creston Bolander,” Gil dropped his voice a notch, “there’s a remarkable resemblance between them.”
Gage stared blankly at him. “Are you insinuating what I think you are?”
“Yep.”
He sat back in his chair. If Mick Lawton was the illegitimate son of Creston Bolander, it put the entire case in a different light. “Why are you just now telling me this?”
The retired sheriff waved a hand. “Never considered it my story to tell. Considering your friendship with Mick, I also figured you might already know.”
“I didn’t.” Gage had always been puzzled by Mick’s rather glib claim that he didn’t know who his father was. Maybe he had known, though, and maybe there were reasons he hadn’t been able to talk about it. Dangerous ones involving a massive corporate empire that was worth a fortune. “This is huge.”
Gil nodded gravely.
Gage felt his first spurt of fear. “If Mick is truly Creston Bolander’s son, and that’s a very big if, that would make Ella…”His granddaughter.He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence out loud.
“I know.” Gil rocked his chair back on all fours. “Does this change your mind about the terms of your meeting with him this afternoon?”