Dirty Little Lies: A Men of Summer Novel (34 page)

“Half the time, he calls me Grace.” Calli stepped beside him, her expression lacking any snideness, any sense of resentment. “I’ve been called Grace so often that I even answer to it sometimes.” She shrugged a bit uneasily. “Sorry, Grace, I do confrontation better than I do tact, I guess, and you wouldn’t argue with me.” A flash of shame eased across her expression as she shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, girl,” Ben said then. “I never imagined you would forgive me. But I won’t hide anymore either and let my enemies focus on you. Now they can face me.”

“They can face all of us.” Vince stepped from behind his brother, followed by Cord and Deacon, Clyde and his sons. “The commanders will follow us, and I know that damned Beau-Remi and Maddox are here close by. That was a gator that got Richard James, and it’s the one that follows Beau-Remi around like some kind of demonic hound from hell. I bet my favorite gun on it.”

“Caiman,” Grace whispered as she felt Zack’s arms tighten around her. “He calls it a caiman.”

The boy with the violet eyes and odd accent, and his quiet twin who had given her a ham and cheese sandwich when she couldn’t eat the squirrel her father had roasted over a fire.

“They’ll wait. They’re my ace in the hole,” Ben sighed. “They won’t show themselves until we least expect it.…”

“I’m sorry, Daddy, they scare me,” Grace whispered as she watched the massive Rottweilers he’d taken her to see. “They’re too big.”

“That’s okay, honey. I always have an ace in the hole to look after you if we need it, girl,” her father promised when she was four and was too frightened of the guard dogs he trained and wanted her to choose for a pet. “I just don’t care much for their choice of guard dog.…” Beau-Remi’s caiman …

Grace shook her head. “They’re your ace,” she said softly, her gaze meeting her father’s, things Beau-Remi and Mad had said over the years, small pieces of memories from her childhood coming together. “They’re your sons.”

He nodded at that, pride flashing in his eyes. “Beau-Remi and Mad, Baer and Banyan. They knew if anything happened, you were their only priority. Baer and Banyan here, then if anything went wrong, Beau-Remi and Maddox would hide you in the swamps until I could get to you.”

“Except Beau-Remi and Maddox have fought me every step of the way on it,” Vince injected acerbically. “Those two have been a pain in my ass, Ben.”

Every time she spoke to Beau-Remi or Mad, they would ask her how the family was treating her. She’d never taken them seriously. Now, years of conversations, sometimes hours on the phone if they called after Vince left the office, came together. But that wasn’t the only information she could feel tugging at her mind, her memories.

“They’re good boys,” Ben protested. “And they loved Grace from the moment of her birth, Vince. You know that.”

“And they still refuse to acknowledge me unless they have no other choice.” Calli rolled her eyes as she cocked a hip and propped one hand on it. “They told Dad they wouldn’t acknowledge me until their baby sister knew the truth.” She flashed Grace a wicked smile. “I torture them anyway. And I’m good at it.”

Grace focused on Calli, because focusing on her father would have broken her. “I would have loved being your sister,” she whispered, Zack’s arms tightening around her as her voice broke. “I would have been a good sister.”

She would have been. Unlike her brothers, unlike her cousins, her sister would have known she was there for her, and she would have known Grace loved her.

“I know that, Grace.” Calli nodded. “None of us have agreed with Dad holding back, especially lately. But as much as I wanted an older sister, I didn’t want my chance to get to know her taken away from me either.” She sniffed, then shot Grace a wink. “You know now, though, and I can be the brat I never got to be with you. You can feel Beau-Remi and Mad’s pain for yourself. Too bad I couldn’t make the rest of the uncles’ lives hell, too,” she snickered. “From what I’ve see, they’re such sticks in the mud…”

Her uncles …

That fucking whoremonger couldn’t even keep it in his pants when he was half dead, in those swamps.…

I warned Luce what a womanizer he was before she ever married him.…

At least he didn’t corrupt Grace.… She’s nothing like him.…

Too bad you can’t see things like your father could. He could put puzzles together so quickly.…

You’re lucky you’re nothing like Ben, Grace.…

All said lovingly, all within the proper context, but she’d felt that something … even then.

She refused to put puzzles together, claiming they gave her a headache. She politely answered questions about her lack of ability to see things as her father did, as though she weren’t certain what they meant. She’d been a child when he died, she’d often say. He rarely discussed how he saw anything. After all, a person didn’t tell five-year-old children their secrets.

But someone had known. Someone had known what no one else had suspected she was capable of, and they’d gotten scared. They’d gotten scared, and they’d moved to make certain she hadn’t seen anything else. And Grace hadn’t realized at the time what had happened … Because she trusted. Because she’d trusted in a lifetime of warmth. Because she was so determined not to hurt, not to lose anyone else that meant anything to her, she’d ignored all the clues, the pieces to the puzzle that would reveal a killer.

“It’s okay, Grace,” Zack whispered at her ear as she felt the tremors quaking through her. “I have you. I’ll always have you.”

Her breath hitched and ended on a strangled sob.

She felt the strength in her knees weaken, felt that dam break inside her as a low, keening cry sounded from her throat. And she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t stop it.

The cries escaping her were years of pain and anger, of losses that went beyond her ability to accept, beyond any tears’ ability to heal.

She felt Zack swing her into his arms before he sat down heavily, holding her to him, his head bent over hers as the gut-wrenching horror of her father’s death, her aunts, of believing her cousin was lost forever, only to find her again. Years of betrayals and the revelation that those she loved so much could lie so easily to her. And the knowledge that she’d closed herself off from them, rather than them shutting her out.

And through the cries and bitterness, the gut-wrenching sobs, and the realizations the bitterness spilled from her in the aching sounds of sorrow she finally allowed free.

She’d shed tears over the years, silent, wordless tears. They’d spilled despite her attempts to hold them back. But the grief-stricken sobs and keening cries she’d always kept inside, holding them back because facing the agony had been more than she could bear.

*   *   *

Holding her to his chest, Zack hid his face against her, the pain spilling from her something he knew he’d never forget, never risk again. She held on to him like a lifeline, and he held on to her just as tightly, certain if he loosened his hold on her, then both of them might collapse.

He felt dampness on his own face, felt the release of the moisture he fought to hold back. But this was Grace. God help him, this was his heart and soul, and if anyone deserved his tears, then she did.

“Grace.” Ben knelt next to them, his hand smoothing down her shoulder as the pain of his own loss spilled down his face. “You were always my girl. Always, Grace.”

Her hold tightened around Zack’s neck, the sobs jerking her body until he wondered how she could stand it. The violence and grief spilling from her broke his heart. He could only pray that by letting it free, a part of hers would be able to heal.

“I love you, Grace,” he whispered at her ear, holding her securely to him, letting the storm rage through her. “I love you.…”

She shuddered again—so hard, her breath caught before another sob was pulled from her. “Zack, I know,” she cried then, her voice weak but echoing with horror. “Oh God, I know who…” She seemed to choke on the words for a moment. “I know who…”

Who?

Zack stilled, his eyes lifting slowly to meet the sudden comprehension in Ben’s gaze.

“I know who it is, Zack,” she cried, the words barely coherent. “I can’t believe … Oh God, I can’t believe they would do this.…”

chapter twenty-three

It was almost over.

Standing in her uncle’s office the next morning, Grace watched the lazy flow of the river beyond the backyard, a lifetime of memories playing out in her head. She’d played on that riverbank as a child with Beau-Remi and Mad several times. Baer and Banyan had always been in the background, though, warily keeping an eye on the caiman, as Beau-Remi called it, while it sunned itself, always within sight of the two teenage boys.

She wasn’t scared of the creature, though he was scary-looking and hissed if she came too close to him. He’d shake his big thick neck, the heavy chain collar he wore jangling fiercely. Beau-Remi would laugh and chastise it, earning a sullen stare from black, slitted eyes.

Her mother was never around when the two boys were there. They only visited whenever Luce was out of town on one of her trips. She took a lot of trips, Grace remembered.

Sometimes her sister, Grace’s aunt Sierra, went with her, sometimes her other aunt, Mary, and Mary’s husband, Thomas, would go. But more often, Luce went alone.

Grace had loved those times when her mother wasn’t there. Her father was always freer to laugh and show his affection to the boys whenever they were around. But he could take Grace with him as well, whenever he visited his friends. Friends like the Richards.

She remembered things about Luce and Aunt Mary. The arguments they’d had, the anger, even after Ben’s death, that shadowed them whenever they were together. Mary hadn’t cared much for Luce at all. Yet, Luce visited her often. Lunch or dinner, sometimes overnight visits, as though they were the best of friends, when Grace knew they hadn’t been.

Why hadn’t she remembered that?

“Teague and Lana are here,” Cord announced from the other side of the office, where he watched from the window looking out on the entrance from the main road. “Egan and Jane and Camden and Gina are behind them. Mary and Thomas are just coming around the mountain from town.”

Grace inhaled slowly, turned, and lifted her head to stare up at Zack, where he stood next to her.

“I have you, Grace.” He cupped her cheek with his palm, his gray eyes calm, the storm settled for the moment. “We’ll get through this.”

He’d been promising her that since they first came up with the plan. Of course, whether or not a confession was made wouldn’t matter. It hadn’t taken long, once they’d known where to look, for Vince, her father, and Zack’s uncle Clyde to track down all the evidence they’d needed. Hacked computers and credit card accounts as well as the locations of bank accounts that hadn’t been listed. So much evidence. So many years, decades of deceit, lies and manipulations.

For what?

For vengeance and for greed.

Mostly greed, she suspected.

“We going to do this, baby? We can run now if you want to.” He’d made that offer several times.

Her family had all the proof they needed; she didn’t have to be there. But she’d been used to draw her father back to Loudon, to make certain he actually died this time, along with his daughter. Family members she’d loved, people she would have stood with, stood for, and they’d betrayed the family even before Grace’s birth. With patience, always staying hidden, always careful that the blame fell elsewhere, they’d left nothing to chance. They would never have been suspected had they not gone after Grace. In going after her, they’d brought Ben out of hiding far sooner than he would have emerged, and had forced Grace to remember parts of the past and events otherwise forgotten, to create a picture none of them had suspected—until she supplied the missing pieces. Then it was a simple matter for two twins, Vince and Ben, whose talents so complemented each other, to know where to find the proof and how.

There was a reason the family businesses had become as streamlined and effective as it was before Ben’s “death.” Just as there was a reason why the network of militias had grown so well during that time. Ben had the ability, charisma, and charm to draw people to him and invite confidences; he was then able to take what he saw, what he heard, and often foresee problems before they flared up. Vince’s logic and leadership abilities would then come up with ways and means of dealing with any problems.

Before the attempt on her father’s life, he had begun to suspect that a series of so-called accidental deaths weren’t the accidents they appeared. With his most trusted commander, he’d begun to investigate and began suspecting something much more sinister. Systematic thefts of weapons and resales to private individuals outside Tennessee. At one point, several military automatic rifles were sold to a gang in Columbus—weapons Ben had identified as part of the Kin arsenal just before a bomb was planted in his truck.

“Heads up, they’re all chitchatting in the driveway and heading for the door,” Cord announced moments later.

“Ready?” Zack asked, his arm going around her back as she moved to the protected corner of the room directly across from where her father would step out of the supply room on the other side.

“Ready.” She nodded.

It was almost over.

The destruction of a family was almost complete.

The office door opened.

“Vince, I had to cancel a hairdresser’s appointment for this foolishness. As if I care what position Zack Richards has in this family,” Mary told him with an air of long-suffering patience before flashing Zack a wink. “Good looks are always a welcome addition in the Maddox Clan, especially when paired with intelligence.”

She entered with her tall, blond-haired husband, Thomas Chance. Once an agent himself with the Brigham Agency that backed the Kin, he’d been required to resign after his marriage to the Maddox sister.

“Nice to see you, Zack.” Thomas stepped over to shake Zack’s hand, his dark brown eyes warm but quizzical before giving Grace a peck to her forehead. “I’m glad to see you back, sweetheart.”