Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(37)

“Okay.” The woman came into sight, slipping on a pair of high heels. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Jay said, his voice preoccupied.

Ryker waited until the blonde had clopped down the hallway before standing and slipping inside the office. “Jay Pentley.” Ryker shut the door behind him and locked it.

Jay looked up from a stack of papers on his desk, his reading glasses askew, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt shoved up his arms. The guy was over six feet and muscled. . . probably from working out with a trainer. His hair was mussed, his shoulders relaxed, and his eyes lazy. The sex must’ve been good.

Ryker smiled and crossed the room to the corner of the desk.

“Who the hell are you?” Jay reached for a phone, his head jerking.

Ryker beat him to it and yanked the phone away. The entire thing clattered to the floor. He moved in, smooth and calm, and grabbed Pentley by the neck. “All you need to know is that I’m here for payback for Zara Remington.” Without missing a beat, he punched Jay in the gut. Hard.

Jay doubled over and then swung out, his fist barely grazing Ryker’s chest. “I’ll have you arrested.” He gasped.

“Then I’ll just kill you and bury your worthless ass where they’ll never find you.” Ryker punched him in the thigh and then the ribs. His muscles bunched with the need to cause real damage, to protect what he’d claimed as his own: Zara.

But that would cause more problems for them all, so he held himself back. He’d keep his monster caged.

This time.

His knuckles still smarting a bit from his meeting with the mayor, Ryker kicked back in Denver’s guest chair, the sketch of Isobel Madison in his hands. “If we go looking for her, we might find more than we want,” he murmured.

Denver nodded from across the cherrywood desk, his gaze remaining on his computer. “Yep.”

Ryker grabbed a ball of rubber bands from a corner of the desk and tossed it up in the air. “Isobel Madison had a thing with Sheriff Cobb, and no doubt they’ve stayed in touch. If we try to find her, we might bring attention to ourselves, right when we really need to stay under the radar.”

“Yep.” Denver’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

Ryker smoothed the paper out on his thigh. “We could tell the kid to stuff it, or we could somehow lock him down.”

Denver looked up, his blue eyes narrowing. “Hmmm.”

“You’re right. I don’t like either of those ideas.” Ryker breathed out. “I want to know who this woman is and why she tested us through the years.”

“Me too,” Heath said, loping into the office and dropping into the other guest chair. “At the time, I figured she was just some sort of social worker, but now. . .”

Yeah. Now that Greg seemed so desperate to find her, Ryker’s instincts were humming, too. “Let’s find her.”

Denver waited for Heath to nod and again began typing furiously.

Ryker turned to Heath. “What was up with you yesterday?”

Heath tugged down a ripped T-shirt marred with grease. “I had to go to the courthouse and a chick was there, getting a protection order against her husband. She was beat to hell and about eighteen years old. Name was Molly.” His tone darkened and deepened, upping the tension in the room.

“Molly. Sweet name.” Ryker treaded lightly. Heath’s mother had been murdered by her boyfriend after systematic beatings, which had often included roughing up Heath. “So the PO is a good thing, right?”

“Yeah.” Heath held out his hand and frowned at the grease marks. “I saw her outside the courthouse after the hearing, clearly talking to the asshole over by his car.” Heath shook his head.

Serious land mine there. “I’m sorry.” Ryker glanced at the grease. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing more to say that you don’t already know.” Heath tipped his head to the side. “Although I’d really love to find the asshole who killed my mother.”

“We will. I don’t know when or how, but we will.” Ryker glanced at the stormy weather outside. When that day happened, he’d cover his brother. “Any news or leads or anything on the Copper Killer case?”

“No. It’s like we’re just holding our breath for the next blow,” Heath muttered.

Yeah. That summed it up. While Ryker couldn’t do anything on that case right now, he could help Zara. “How’s Zara’s car?”

“It’s fine. Well, for a piece of shit, it’s fine,” Denver said, not losing a second with his typing, even though his gaze had strayed to check on Heath a couple of times.

Heath nodded. “He looked it over this morning and then asked me to replace the brake lines. She needs a new transmission, too.”

“She needs a new car,” Denver retorted.

Ryker nodded. “Yeah, but she doesn’t exactly want to accept a car from me.” What was the big deal?

“Maybe she thinks you’ll want kinky favors,” Denver drawled.

Ryker rolled his eyes. “We both know you’re the kink bastard in the family.”

Heath snorted, visibly shaking himself out of his mood. “Remember that leather club he visited in Seattle?”

“I was on a case,” Denver said, his tone even, his fingers flying. “Why do you jerks always forget that part of the story?”