Trade It All(68)

Where was the doctor now?

He died in a car crash that same month.

And the doctor who had delivered Kenzi and Kent?

Dead from a heart attack during the same time period.

Lance went to the address that had been written in code, but no one there knew the name that had been written next to it. Refusing to give up, Lance checked into a hotel and searched through his wallet for the little black card with the white phone number on it. He paced his hotel suite and called it and when he heard someone pick up, he said, “I’m in Aruba.”

“Good.”

“I found a code in the journal. It’s names and addresses.”

“I know.”

“If you knew, why not say it? Is this some kind of game?”

“Did you locate the people from the list?”

“So far they’re all dead.” Even as he said the words they sounded unbelievable to him.

“That doesn’t sound like a game to me.”

Lance rubbed a hand roughly over his forehead. “How much? Name your price. Just tell me what you know.”

“Keep your money, Lance. The more I get to know your family, the less I’m sure pushing you was the right decision. Go home.”

“Go home? Are you fucking serious?”

“I don’t want your death on my conscience.”

“My death? I don’t understand. What happened here?”

“It’s bigger than I thought and not worth the risk. Go home.” With that, the woman hung up and didn’t answer when Lance tried to call her back.

For a few more days, Lance tried to locate the other people on the list. He hired a local private investigator, who tracked down one of the men. He had lived with his sister at the address from the list, but they’d moved away years ago. Twenty-eight years ago.

No one knew where they’d gone or had heard from them since.

They’d simply disappeared.

All during the time his parents were in Aruba. Every answer he found led to more questions.

After another frustrating day without answers, Lance paid the investigator to keep digging and flew back to Boston. He knew he had to tell his brothers what he’d discovered but decided not to until he knew something for sure. Anything.

Even though he’d arrived home late, Lance drove over to Willa’s place and called her. She didn’t pick up.

His phone beeped with an incoming message. I don’t want to see you.

He texted back, I understand why you’re not happy with me. I’m an ass. But I’m an ass who is parked out in front of your building, hoping he can make it up to you.

I don’t want you to. Sorry you drove over here for nothing.

And there it is. We’ve come full circle again. I’m sorry. More groveling. I shouldn’t have lied to you.

I can’t do this, Lance. Being with you can be so good, but then it hurts so bad. Please, just stay away from me for a while.

Lance rested his head on his steering wheel. He felt sick to his stomach and more miserable than he could ever remember feeling. He wanted to rewind to the first time they were together and handle her declaration of love better. He wanted to go back to the previous weekend and not have lost his shit when she’d been about to say it again.

Is this how love feels?

Or am I dying?

On impulse, he did something completely against his family’s code. “Dad, do you mind if I drop by? I need to talk to you about something, and it’s important.”

“Absolutely.” The urgency in his father’s voice was attributable to the novelty of the request. Barringtons didn’t ask each other for advice. No matter how dirty and bloody they got in the trenches of life outside the family, they knew not to bring problems home.

“It’ll take me about forty-five minutes to get there.” Considering the late hour, he knew he probably should have gone to see him the next day, but he couldn’t wait.

“I’ll be here,” his father said.

After hanging up, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His parents might not have the perfect marriage, but they’d stayed together through rough times. There was no question that his father loved his mother and vice versa. Maybe his father could make sense of his son’s tangled insides.

When Lance pulled into his parents’ driveway he was surprised to see several cars there. Asher’s, Grant’s, Ian’s and, if Lance wasn’t mistaken, Dax’s.

Shit.

The door flew open. With slightly mussed hair as if she’d gone to bed then gotten dressed again after his call, his mother stood in the doorway and beckoned him in. “I heard your father telling Asher to come over quickly, and I was worried. What’s wrong, Lance?”

A lifetime of training had Lance automatically answering, “Nothing, Mom.”