Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(93)
His shrug was a little humble. “I haven’t slept much over the last few weeks. I might have read a few of your books. You know, to pass the time.” He dropped his head, kicking at the ground with the toe of his boot as my jaw slackened in surprise. The overdue library book I’d found in the front desk of the trailer—the one next to the couch where Steven slept—hadn’t been Bree’s at all. Steven’s eyes lifted to mine. “Let me do this for you, Finn. I owe you this much.” When I nodded, he patted the roof of the car and said, “Pop the trunk. Let’s get this over with.”
Under the glow of the Aston’s headlights, Steven hauled himself up into the cab of the backhoe and fired it up, excavating a deep, clean hole. Shoulders heavy, he lowered the last of Carl into the ground. Then he climbed back into the tractor and filled the grave, parking the backhoe over the mound.
He pulled off his work gloves as he wandered back to my side of the car. I rolled down the window. “Do you have someplace to stay tonight?” The charred remains of the trailer were a shadow in the distance, and for now, his house probably wasn’t safe.
He shrugged. “I’ll call Guy. I’m sure he won’t mind if I crash on his couch.”
“Hop in. I’ll give you a lift.”
Steven shook his head. “I can take the farm truck. It isn’t far.” He rubbed a bit of dirt from the side of the Aston. “Besides, someone’s probably missing this thing. Do I even want to know where you got it?”
“It’s probably better if you don’t.” The dealership was long closed. I could picture Alan sitting in the darkened showroom, waiting for Irina to return the car. I had no idea if Irina would be inclined to cover for me, and if so, for how long. “I should probably go. Vero’s waiting for me.” We’d have to figure out what to do with the Aston Martin, then ask Ramón for a loaner until the van could be repaired. And who the heck knew what had become of Vero’s beloved Charger? “Hey, the kids and I are having dinner at my parents’ house on Saturday night. Do you want to come along? Delia and Zach have really missed you.”
Steven laughed, shaking his head. “So your mom can remind me what an asshole I am while she regales me with stories about your boyfriends over ham? No, thanks. I was actually thinking maybe I’d take a little time off. With the office gone and business pretty slow, I figured now might be a good time to visit my sister. You know, get out of town and lay low for a while. But maybe I could come by your place and see the kids tomorrow before I go?”
“Sure. They’d like that.”
“Finn,” he said, stopping me as I rolled up my window. His face sobered as he fidgeted with his gloves. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about since the fire. About that safe word for the security system. It’s not that I’m holding out hope that we could ever fix things. It’s just … you and the kids … you’ve always been the one constant.”
“Even when you were buying the farm?” A thick silence fell. He hung his head. If Steven signed that contract with Ted and Carl while we’d still been married, then by law, a portion of that farm probably belonged to me. “Did Guy know?”
Steven gave a noncommittal shake of his head. “Guy’s a friend. He’s always been good about looking in the other direction.” He glanced up at me, shame naked on his face. Guy had probably known about a lot of things. “I’ll make this right, Finn. The assets, the custody, all of it.” There was a plea under the promise. A question he was too afraid to ask.
In some ways, Steven would always be a constant in my life, too, but he wasn’t a net I could safely fall back on. I wasn’t falling backward anymore. From now on, there was only falling forward. And if I had to pick a safe name of my own—someone I could count on to stick beside me, no matter how messy my life got—it’d be Vero’s.
“I know you will,” I said.
Steven patted the side of the car with a sad smile, waving as he watched me go.
* * *
A single light was on in the office window of Ramón’s garage. Vero held open the gate in the chain-link fence, directing me through it. The bay door at the back of the building was open, and Ramón waved me inside.
I climbed out of the Aston as Vero and Ramón circled the car. He sucked a tooth as he traced a bullet hole in the rear panel. His eyes lifted to his cousin’s, too many questions gleaming inside them. Questions neither of us would ever answer. He shook his head at the shattered window glass. “What the hell did you get yourself into this time, Veronica?”
“Can you fix it?” she asked him.
Ramón opened the passenger door and leaned into the car. He dug a finger into the back of the headrest and dragged out a bullet. His jaw was hard-set as he tossed it to me. “It would take me days just to get the window glass, not to mention the paint. And that headrest will cost a fortune to replace, if I can even find one.”
“Maybe Javi knows somebody,” Vero suggested, following him around the car.
Ramón turned abruptly and leveled a finger at her. “I’m not breathing a word of this to Javi, and neither are you. You’re better off getting rid of it.”
“We can’t do that,” I said. “We borrowed it from a dealership. We have to return it.” Alan may have been bending rules for Irina by letting me take the keys, but this car was too valuable to go unnoticed by the dealer for long, and Irina’s interest in protecting me wasn’t without limits. “How long would it take you to fix it?”