Rules of Survival(61)
Patrick glared at me, but said nothing.
Shaun tapped the table. “Wait—you said you didn’t have specifics—you just said pulled the trigger. How do you know it was a gun that killed the kid?”
Patrick sighed. “Expression, Shaun. My point being that she was guilty by association, at the very least.”
“Well, then that brings me to another question—could this Bengali guy be stalking my dad, too? Do you have any idea where he might be?”
Patrick took a swig of his coffee. Making a face, he grabbed the sugar jar and tipped it over the cup for a few seconds. “He’s not far from here. In Dutchess County New York. Living under the name Hank Friedman.”
I bit down hard on my tongue. He knew where Mick was. Suddenly I was angry again. “I’ll bet you have an address for him, too, right?” I seethed. “Why my mom? Why chase her all these years when you knew where the other guy was? What the hell did she do to piss you off so badly?”
“I only just found Mick Shultz. After you brought up his name, I went looking. I didn’t know where he was before that.”
I slammed both hands against the table from underneath. The couple at the next table gave us a dirty look. “I don’t believe you.”
Patrick smiled and downed the rest of his coffee in a single gulp. “I don’t care if you don’t believe me.”
Shaun placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled back gently. “What about the third person?”
Patrick raised his empty cup high for the waitress to see. “Third person?”
“There were three partners. Mom, Mick, and another one. I think it might be a girl. The name starts with a T.”
Patrick’s expression changed. He set the cup down and closed his eyes for a second. “The third person wasn’t a woman. It was a man.”
“Well, do you know the guy’s name? This Bengali guy might be looking for him, too.”
Patrick shook his head. “Bengali isn’t looking for him or Mick. He doesn’t even know they exist. They worked behind the scenes setting up the jobs and squaring things away. Mel was the only one working out in the open most of the time.”
I tried to swallow, but for some reason, couldn’t. A thought started squirming around inside my head, and even though I couldn’t quite catch it, I felt sick. Despite how I wanted to ignore it, things were starting to make sense. “What was his name? The other partner…”
Patrick’s eyes found mine and stayed there. In all the years he’d been chasing us, I’d never hated him as much as I did right at that moment. The squirming thought came together, and before he spoke, I knew what the answer would be. It was in his eyes.
“Tanner.”
“Tanner?” A chill swept through the room. Next to me, Shaun’s eyes went wide and he tensed. I could sympathize. He’d been lied to—just like I had. For a fraction of a second, I hated Mom almost as much as I hated Patrick. As far as I was concerned, she should have told me the truth about her partners—both of them.
Patrick turned to Shaun. There was regret in his eyes. Something that might have made another person feel sorry for him—but not me.
“Patrick Tanner.”
Chapter Twenty
For the longest time, none of us moved. There was no conversation, no breathing. Just…nothing. Patrick’s admission had sent the world spiraling into a black hole.
“Are you shitting me?” Shaun hissed under his breath, finally breaking the silence. He slammed a hand down on the table again, this time with enough force to knock Patrick’s cup completely over. The waitress had just refilled it, so cream-colored liquid crept across the table and dripped over the edge and onto the floor. None of us made a move to mop it up.
“Shaun—”
“No way…” He slipped from the booth, pulling me along. “You never thought you should tell me this? All that time we spent hunting Melissa Morgan—you always lecturing me on keeping personal feelings out of the job? Kayla was right, wasn’t she? This was one big piss-fest. You had a beef with this chick because she stole the money—money you helped steal—so you were determined to drag her in and see her burn for it?”
“You’re wrong,” he said to Shaun. “That’s not what it was about. Not all of it.”
“Then what?” I asked. It came out low and I could barely hear myself speak, but it was enough. Patrick heard me just fine.
“Yes, I was angry. I put the scams together. Plotted them out and did the research to make sure things went off without a hitch. Mick made sure our tracks were covered. The guy was a master at disappearing. Then there was Mel…” He shook his head. “She and Mick betrayed me. They stole all that money after I worked so hard to map the entire thing out. But the murder? That was too much. We were bastards. We took a lot of things that didn’t belong to us—but life wasn’t one of them. It was my fault the kid was there that day. I made a mistake with the schedules. I needed to make it right by making sure his killer was caught.”
“She didn’t steal that money,” I said. It was taking all my control not to reach across the table and strangle him. “And she didn’t kill anyone.”
But the truth was, I couldn’t be sure anymore—and that nearly killed me. Mom hadn’t told me about Mick and Patrick. Both men had fairly large roles in her life—and mine—and she’d left out a lot of details. Important details. What else hadn’t she told me? Mom had always been my rock. My true north. The doubt seeped in like poison and hurt almost worse than losing her. My entire life—the one I’d lived in the shadows of the real world—had been based on a series of lies.