“I have bad news.” Trace looked directly at Keegan.
Keegan swallowed. “What happened?”
“Mitch Highland’s mate found him in the basement earlier this morning. He hanged himself.”
Keegan blinked, unable to move or speak. It felt like his heart stopped. He stiffened. What the hell? Maybe he hadn’t heard correctly.
Trace grabbed his bicep and squeezed. “It’s worse.”
How could it be worse?
“He left a suicide note.”
Keegan gulped back bile, his enormous breakfast threatening to revolt.
“Apparently he was involved in this conspiracy.”
Keegan shook his head. No way. This wasn’t happening.
“Oh, God.” Melinda grabbed his other arm and leaned into his bicep. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” He couldn’t process anything. All he knew was there must be some mistake.
Trace ducked his head and stared at the table for a moment.
“Fuck.” Keegan jumped up from his seat, sending it toppling over onto the floor. He ran a hand through his hair and turned around in a slow circle. There was no way to understand this. “I just can’t…”
“I know, man. It sucks.”
“How could I be such a poor judge of character?”
Melinda gasped. “You can’t make this a reflection of you, Keegan. You aren’t the one who committed a crime.”
“I should have known.”
“If anyone should have known, it should have been me.” Melinda sat very still.
He turned to stare at his mate, blinking. He couldn’t begin to contemplate the implication of that. Instead he gave a short frustrated scream and stomped his foot as if he was having a childhood tantrum.
Trace spoke again. “I don’t think it was always this way. He indicated he’d been clean his entire life until a week ago when a man contacted him and threatened his life if he didn’t shut you up and keep things under wraps. He stole the files from the construction trailer. Claims he burned them. He also wiped the computer files clean. He managed to lie to his wife for the entire week also. Apparently she knew nothing. She’s hysterical, claiming he wasn’t himself lately, and she knew he was blocking her from his thoughts, but she brushed it off, thinking he was trying to protect her from his own stressful job situation. He hid the fact he was doing nothing to help you solve the mystery. He never even tried to find the previous inspector. He knew the guy was already dead.”
“Jesus,” Keegan said.
“Yeah. Duncan Crawford. Either this greedy bastard from Templeton killed him or he had him done.”
“Who? Who was it?”
“Mitch never knew who he was dealing with. All their communication was by phone. He grew nervous when Nolan Friedmont turned up dead, but he was trapped. He wasn’t even receiving money. He was just trying to keep himself alive, and probably you too.”
“No wonder he suggested we send our mates out of town and then insisted we get them protection. He knew we were in grave danger.”
“Yeah. And his wife says he’s been acting crazy ever since that scaffolding collapse. He must have realized it was intentional. He lost it. Snapped. She couldn’t get through to him, and she had no idea what was bothering him. She just assumed he was stressed about the job site.”
“So he knew this asshole intended to kill me last night. He may have even set me up.” Keegan shouted that last part. His blood boiled as he moved from incredulous to downright furious.
“We don’t know that for sure. And we may never know.”
Melinda gasped. “That poor woman. Serena. She was so nice to me the night of the accident.”
Trace nodded. “And now she’s had to spend hours being interrogated, and her house is currently being tossed upside down by the feds. I’m sure she’s a mess.”
“That’s awful. She didn’t do anything to deserve this. Do you think she knew anything about it?” Melinda’s shoulders slumped.
Keegan shook his head. “I seriously doubt it.”
Someone eased into the kitchen from the hall. “Everything okay in here?” Keegan lifted his gaze to find Trace’s father, Adam, and his brother, Logan, in the doorframe. Adam looked worried, his brow furrowed as he stepped farther into the room. Zachary entered behind him also.
“Hey, Dad. No. I just gave Keegan some bad news.” Trace stood, scooting his chair back.
Keegan stared at each person in the room one at a time. He had an overwhelming out-of-body sensation. None of this could be happening. It was too farfetched. He needed sleep. Maybe if he rested, he would wake up and be back several days. Hell, he’d need to go back even further to erase the fucked-up situation he lived in.