He was both envious and in awe. He had wanted nothing more than to re-create that for himself and Meredith. Then the Syndicate had destroyed everything. The Syndicate and his father. He had been so blind. Who else had it in for Abbott Connolly? The Syndicate had broken the law with their rustling and murdering, but he would bet his last breath that it was his father who had used the opportunity to try and rid himself of Abbott once and for all.
But Abbott had outsmarted him, outsmarted them all. He’d somehow gotten ahold of evidence that could bring them all down and without knowing where the evidence was or what would happen to it if Abbott were to die, he left them hog-tied.
But now they were getting desperate. Now they were gunning for Meredith and taking out anyone they saw as a liability, including Vernon.
It did not bode well.
“I’ll give you a few minutes,” Caleb said, pressing his hand into Hunter’s shoulder as he passed.
Hunter nodded and waited until the door shut behind him. He pulled over a low stool to sit on. His father had started to come around as they were carrying him in and now his eyes were open.
“Vernon?”
His father turned his head toward him and took a minute to focus. He didn’t appear to like what he saw. “Where am I?” The words came with effort.
“Doc’s office. He’s going to watch over you for a bit.”
“No point. I’m dying.” Hunter didn’t argue with his father’s proclamation. There was no point. Vernon took note and sniffed, wincing. “Guess you’ll be happy about that.”
“Not particularly.” He’d never wished his father ill. He’d only wished he’d been a better man. Unfortunately, the sentiment hadn’t been reciprocated.
“What do you want now? A confession?” That’s exactly what Hunter wanted. That and the evidence he needed to bring the Syndicate down. So far, they had been careful not to leave anything that would lead back to them. All Hunter had was a gut full of suspicion and no real evidence to back it up. “You won’t get it. Not from me. I won’t have them burying me with a cloud over my grave.”
“Like they did Abbott Connolly?”
His father mustered up enough energy to glare at him. When he spoke, the words came with effort, staggered and slow. “Bastard never knew when to leave well enough alone. Been a thorn in my side since the day he arrived in town.”
“Well you took care of that, didn’t you?”
His father’s eyes burned. “I saved his worthless life.”
“You kept him alive to save your own skin.”
His father didn’t refute the claim. “The man is dead. What does it matter now?”
“It matters to Meredith.”
“Her.” He spoke the word with derision, strength returning to his voice for one brief second before fading away again. “You think she’ll want you, boy, when she finds it was you who convinced the council members to vote her down so you could run her outta town?”
Hunter didn’t bother correcting him. He didn’t have the time. “Not that it matters, since it doesn’t appear you kept up your end of the bargain. The Syndicate still came gunning for her. You want to explain that?”
Hate sparked in Vernon’s eyes. “I spoke to them. See what it got me? You remember that when I take my last breath. My blood is on your hands.”
Hunter refused to feel guilty. “This is your doing, not mine. Who are the other members of the Syndicate?” His father said nothing and Hunter’s frustration mounted. Time was running out. “They just tried to kill you. What loyalty can you possibly have to them?”
“You want to know who they are, find the evidence Connolly hid. I ain’t doing your work for you.”
His father coughed and bloody spittle dotted his lips and chin. It wouldn’t be long now.
Hunter stood and stared down at his father. Abbott Connolly had spent the last seven years of his life in prison—his wife dead, his daughter on the other side of the country. Yet still, he was freer than Vernon had ever been, trapped in a prison of his own design, the bars fortified with bitterness and hate.
Hunter turned to leave, then stopped. Meredith stood in the doorway connecting the two rooms and from the expression on her face, she hadn’t just arrived.
“Mere...” How much had she heard?
She held up a hand to stop him and when she spoke, her voice was low and hollow. “You made a deal with your father? When were you planning on telling me?”
He didn’t answer right away. He didn’t have one to give her. He hadn’t figured it all out yet. All he wanted to do was get her somewhere safe, to take down the Syndicate. Everything else he’d figure out later.