“Turns out,” Brock says, “that Dale, Donny, and I found Patty Watson’s remains on the edge of Steel property, right at the Wyoming border.”
If possible, Ava goes even paler.
“Who the hell killed Patty Watson?” I demand. “Why was she on your property?”
“The story is that Patty disappeared while shopping in Snow Creek when she and her then boyfriend were visiting.” He turns to Ava. “Remember the original Steel winemaker, who taught your dad? Ennis Ainsley?”
“Yeah. The Brit. I know the name, but I don’t remember him.”
“Right. He was Patty Watson’s boyfriend back in the day. He never knew she was killed. He was told some story that she up and left the country to join the peace corps, but he didn’t buy it. Rory and I went to London to meet with him, and out of sheer luck he had some of Patty’s old belongings. We found a viable DNA sample, and it matched the bones we found on our property.”
“Oh my God…” Ava shakes her head, her lips trembling.
“I’m betting whoever is responsible for Patty’s death is also responsible for my great-uncle’s.”
“Most likely,” Brock agrees, “but this all happened half a century ago. Who the hell could have been responsible?”
Ava finally raises her head and speaks. “Wendy Madigan. My grandmother.”
“Why would she be involved?” Brock asks.
“She was obsessed with my grandfather. My dad told me. What better way to send him and the woman he married a message than to have both of their best friends murdered?”
“Madigan.” I shake my head. “Jeremy Madigan, who Dad bought the bar from. All this time… All this time, the answer was hidden under our own damned floorboards. And now this bitch is still alive?”
Ava trembles at my words.
I recalibrate. “Oh, God, sweetheart. I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did,” she says. “You totally meant it. She was—is—a bitch. If I could erase her from my DNA, I’d do it.”
I squeeze Ava’s hand. “I wouldn’t.”
She scoffs. “How can you say that? The woman’s a menace. A psychopath. A murderer!”
“Because then you wouldn’t be you.” I stare into her beautiful blue eyes, into her soul. Damn, I stare nearly into her DNA. “Look at your father. Look at Gina. You’re all fine. Whatever is wrong with Wendy isn’t affecting any of you.”
She shakes her head, says nothing.
I squeeze her hand again, but she doesn’t respond.
“Ava,” I say. “We’re getting you something to eat.”
“Not hungry.”
“I don’t care. You’re going to eat something. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ava
I don’t have the strength to argue with Brendan. Especially not when Brock joins in.
“I’ve been there, Ave,” he says. “I get what you’re feeling. You’re angry about the secrets. You’re resentful. You’re freaked. Our family history is dark and gruesome. Appalling. But this all happened forever ago. You need to focus on today.”
“And today,” I say, “my grandmother is alive.”
“She is,” Brendan says. “And we’ll deal with that. But your life hasn’t changed.”
“How can you say that?”
“You know something you didn’t know before. Your father is a half-sibling to your uncles and aunt. But he always was. You always were who you are. Nothing has changed.”
I rise then. “I’m going out.”
“Where?”
“Where do you think? I’m driving to Grand Junction. To visit my grandmother.”
“Not until you eat something,” Brendan says.
“Fine. I’ll grab something on the way.”
“I’m going with you.”
“You have to get back to the bar.”
He grips my shoulders. “Damn it, Ava! You’re more important to me than any bar.”
“Brendan…this isn’t something you can do for me.” I swat Brendan’s hands away and grab my jacket. “I have to go. Alone.”
“Hell no, you’re not going alone.”
“The woman’s unconscious. And she’s an octogenarian. I’ll be fine. Besides, what other time do I have? I have to open the bakery in the morning.”
“Will they even let you see her at this time of night?” Brendan asks.
“I can go with her,” Brock says. “My mom is a big deal at that hospital, and the Steels are major donors to the foundation. All Ava and I need to do is drop our name. But if you don’t want her going alone—and I understand—I’ll go. I just need to text Rory.”
Brendan sighs. “All right. But you call me as soon as you get home, all right? And you”—he turns to Brock—“take fucking good care of her and see that she gets something in her stomach.” Then he kisses my lips. “I love you,” he whispers.
I move my lips to his ear. “I love you too. Thank you for understanding.”
“How about a taco?” Brock asks me once we’re in the car. “That new Taco Bell at the edge of town is open until midnight.”
“The dining room? Or the drive-thru?”
“It’s only eight o’clock, so the dining room is still open. We can use the drive-thru, but tacos are a mess to eat in the car.”
“Fine.” I sigh. “I’ll choke down a taco.”
“Two,” Brock says. “One taco isn’t enough for a small child.”
“My God… You’re going to report back to Brendan, aren’t you?”
“Guilty.” He grins. “Look, cuz. That man looks at you the way I look at Rory, and I’d fucking kill anyone who didn’t take care of her.”
Despite everything going on, I can’t help a slight smile.
“So he loves you.” Brock pulls into the Taco Bell parking lot.
“Yeah.”
“And is the feeling mutual?”
My cheeks warm.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Take what as a yes?”
“The blush. You’ve been pale as a ghost all evening, Ava. The mention of Brendan loving you finally put some color back into those cheeks.”
He puts the car in park, and we go into the restaurant. It’s surprisingly busy for a weeknight on the edge of a small town, but we don’t have to wait too long to put in our order.
“Six tacos,” Brock says. “What’ll you have, Ava?”
“Six tacos?” I say.
“They’re not that big. And I had a light dinner.” He turns back to the cashier. “My cousin will have three.”
“Two,” I say.
“Three,” he repeats. “And two fountain drinks. Oh, and one order of those churro things.”
“Cinnamon twists?” the cashier asks.
“Yeah, whatever. An order of those. You want any, Ava?”