Page 26 of The Darkest Chase

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Page 26 of The Darkest Chase

It honestly doesn’t take long enough.

There’s too much shit on my mind.

Too much to tame in ninety seconds of mix and pour.

The taste, at least, is enough to chase away a few brooding thoughts as I settle into a deep-set chair next to the crackling fireplace, slouching down against the leather.

Not bad.

It gets better when my massive German Shepherd perks up from his nap in front of the heat and trots over to lie down at my feet, thrusting his muzzle under my hand. He’s so old his fur is greying around his face.

“Hey, Rolf,” I murmur against the rim of my martini glass, scratching between his ears. He lets out a satisfied grumble, leaning into my touch and thumping his tail hard against the woven wool rug. “Did the big boy have a good day? Not me, I’m afraid. But I might have a better night.”

His only answer is a low whuff!

I set my drink down on the side table and snag my phone, flicking through the texts until I land on the one I sent Talia as I clocked out of work.

Talia, it’s Micah Ainsley. Shore of Still Lake. 9:30 pm. Can you be there? Are you still feeling well enough to meet? Mallory didn’t report a call, so I’m hoping you made it through the day.

There’s no answer.

How can I blame her?

When a stupid cop you’ve never spoken to in your life rescues you from a public asthma attack, then asks you to meet him over something clearly related to your job with the Arrendells, you don’t jump with joy.

I’d be wary, too.

Only, I’m not the one she should be wary of.

Xavier Arrendell and trust don’t mix.

I never gave him the benefit of the doubt, even before it started getting weird with vicious secrets dripping out.

The whole family’s rotten to the core, and those boys learned it somewhere.

I’m convinced Lucia and Montero Arrendell are fully aware of their sons’ twisted hobbies. There was Ulysses Arrendell first, ‘claiming’ girls and turning into their stalker-slash-suitor, only to strangle them to death and use Culver Jacobin to help hide their bodies.

Then there was Aleksander Arrendell, knowingly manipulating his own secret half sister into an engagement and then trying to murder her. Thankfully, his other half sister intervened with Captain Faircross before he could get that far.

You want to convince me Xavier Arrendell is innocent?

When he was forged in the same crucible of filth?

Guilt by association won’t fly in court, no, but I’ve been watching Xavier since I moved here.

And I’m pretty damned sure he’s got plenty of guilt of his own, no association needed.

Except for his association with the case I’ve been working.

The plague of cocaine sales and addiction-related deaths spreading like weeds up and down the East Coast over the last decade.

The ugly fact that most of the supply can be traced back to a single source.

The killing fact that I found my own brother dead in his apartment, his nostrils still lined with the dust of the last hit he’d ever taken.

Maybe the bad memories just finally crushed Jet in the end.

The fucked up pain of being beaten every day by a father too drunk to realize what he was doing.




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