Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“That’s the good news?”
“Yeah. All those drugs, and Eagle always knew they were there. He could’ve gotten them anytime.”
“But Eagle’s been clean—” he stops abruptly. “What are you not telling me?”
I swallow as I recalibrate. I’m not thinking straight. “Yeah, Eagle’s been clean.”
Falcon cocks his head at me. “You know, of all my siblings, Hawk, you’ve always been the hardest to read. Because you’re the good son. The one who never does anything wrong. You don’t lie. You don’t steal. You were never brought home by the cops in the dead of night for raising hell with your friends.”
I exhale sharply. Falcon and Eagle both had a few run-ins with the police in high school. Nothing serious, of course, but they got holy living hell from my father each time it happened.
I clear my throat. “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m going to ask you a question and I expect the truth.”
Another sip. “Sure.”
“Is Eagle using?”
“No.”
Not a lie. Currently, Eagle’s not using.
He scratches the side of his head. “So what’s up then?”
I take a deep breath in. “You remember how we dug that hole as deep as we could?”
He sighs. “Hawk, that night is etched into my mind like a fucking copperplate. I remember everything about it.”
“Then you remember that we threw the body in first, covered it with dirt, and then threw the drugs on top of it.”
He leans in. “Yeah…”
“So we found the drugs first, obviously.”
“Which is good.”
“And then we kept digging.”
“And…?” Falcon’s tone is tight.
I look at my feet. “I think you know where I’m going with this.”
“I think I may, but I’m going to have to hear you say it.”
I draw in a deep breath. “There was no body, Falcon. Someone dug up the fucking body and then reburied the drugs.”
Falcon doesn’t reply at first. His jaw is rigid, and I can see his mind working inside his head.
Falcon’s been through hell. He served eight years for a crime he didn’t commit, and then he nearly got killed by the Bianchis and the McAllisters. He knows danger. He understands danger.
“You going to say anything?” I ask.
“Nobody fucking knew, Hawk. I never said anything, and I know damned well you didn’t.”
“That’s correct.”
He pounds a fist on the outdoor table. “Damned Eagle.”
I shake my head, swishing some bourbon around my mouth to coat it, and then I swallow. “It wasn’t Eagle.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told me.”
Falcon scoffs. “And you believe him?”
I nod. “He was scared, Falcon. I haven’t seen him like that since the time he told us about the trouble he was in with Vega before… Before everything happened.”
“Then how…” Falcon rises, paces across his deck. “Who?”
“The dirt was hard. Whoever took that body out got it a while ago. Long before Leif, Vinnie, Raven, anyone else knew.”
“So someone has Diego Vega’s body,” he says.
“If it even was Diego Vega.”
“Eagle says it was Diego Vega. At least…it was the guy he knew as Diego Vega.” Falcon shakes his head. “This is fucked up.”
“You think?” I finish the rest of my bourbon.
“There is one thing that doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Falcon says.
“Yeah, the EPA.”
Falcon nods as he pours himself another drink. “Vinnie’s contact. She already said the razing of the barn had been stopped on environmental grounds.”
“You think Dad may be involved?” I ask.
“Dad?” He stops pacing, stares me down. “Are you kidding? He’s the one who said he wanted to start the excavation.”
“Yeah, that’s what he said. Then he tried to fucking off himself. His word may not be as ironclad as we used to think it was.”
“Jesus fuck.” Falcon downs his drink. “As much as I’d like to tie one on, that’s my last sip. We need our heads clear.”
“We sure do.”
“Dad couldn’t be involved,” Falcon says. “I mean seriously. Why would he do that? Why would he plan the excavation on that area of our property… Something is very wrong here.”
“You’re absolutely right. Something is very wrong here. And I have a hunch that we’ve only begun to scratch the surface.”
“Meaning?”
I draw a breath, breathe out slowly. It’s not every day you have to tell your big brother that the father he adores isn’t the man he thinks he is.
“I’m wondering,” I say slowly, “if maybe Diego Vega’s body isn’t the only thing buried in that area.”
Seventeen Years Earlier…
When Ted and I hang out—which has become increasingly frequent—we always play board games. He usually lets me choose, and every time I pick Scrabble.
Until this time.
“How about Monopoly?” he says.
I roll my eyes. “It takes forever.”
He chuckles. “Nah. Not when you use the right strategy. Let me show you.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I want to show you the game. I mean really show you the game.”
“Okay,” I agree.
We begin, and before long, I land on one of the blues.
“I’m buying Boardwalk,” I say, slapping my fake cash on the table like I’m some kind of high roller. “No one can beat me if I’ve got Boardwalk.”