Page 38 of Secret Triplets for Christmas

“You have to remember how I was back then. I was more spontaneous and in-the-moment than I am now.”

His eyes softened. “I always loved that about you.”

I swallowed, surprised by the emotion I felt from him. Did he mean love-love or just he liked my personality back then?

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, she said Liam was pissed at Wally Creighton. The Creightons were the last family Liam was placed with before he aged out of foster care. Did he ever mention them or Wally to you?”

I scanned my memory, but it was blank of anyone named Wally. “No. Why was Liam mad at him?”

“Turns out, Wally was part of the crew, running scams using foster kids’ social security numbers.”

“Oh, wait. Liam did tell me that someone had stolen his identity and ruined his credit. That’s why he had to live with you. He didn’t have the credit to get his own place or utilities.”

I nodded. “We couldn’t afford a lawyer, which was really what you need to clean up credit after identity theft. We filed a police report, but we didn’t know who did it. We sent the report to the credit agencies, but we still hadn’t cleaned up the damage.”

“So did this Wally guy take Liam’s identity?”

“I think so, but Darcy also said that Liam was rumored to be talking to the FBI.”

My brows rose. “Really?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No. He never said a word.”

He looked over the paperwork. “The thing is, it might not be true. Wally could have started the rumor knowing it would get Liam taken out.”

“What do you think?”

He looked at me, and in his eyes I saw all the torment that came from guilt. “I’m afraid he was talking to the Feds and didn’t tell me. I’d yelled at him the last time I saw him. He told me I didn’t understand anything. What if he meant this?” His hand gestured to the papers. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

The urge to hug him, to soothe his pain, was more than I could resist. I wrapped my arms around him. For a moment, it was like five years ago right after Liam’s death. Not the night we slept together, but the nights before when a hug helped temper the darkness. He settled into the hug for a moment and then abruptly pulled away.

“Thanks.” His gaze went to the papers.

I looked at them too, thinking back to the last months of Liam's life, searching my memory for any clues or hints that he’d been talking to the FBI, that instead of going deeper into the dark side, he’d been working to stop them.

"Oliver. Do you think whoever did this to Liam could be after us too?"

“I got my text not long after I left the pool hall. I had the feeling they knew I was there and why.”

“I got mine while cleaning my house.”

Concern filled his face. “You shouldn’t do that alone. It might not be safe. I can help you.”

“I called Flynn—Detective Donovan—and he came over. Plus, he said he’d have police to watch the house.”

Something like disappointment crossed his face.

“Did you talk to him about this?” I asked.

“I haven’t yet. A part of me thinks they know but it doesn’t give them anything to use in terms of an arrest. The thing is, there has to be something Liam said or did that can help us here. That’s why I invited you over. I thought we could put our heads together and go through everything we remember. Any small detail could be important."

I couldn’t imagine knowing something that could help, but maybe Oliver was right. Maybe together, we could think of something that didn’t seem important but now, with a new context, it would be. And if there was, then we’d be all that much closer to ending this nightmare and going back to our separate lives.

12

Oliver

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