Page 47 of The Veteran

“Has anyone come asking questions about Dad recently?” I asked, to get the ball rolling.

“Nah. I haven’t heard the name Brendan Nichols in years. Why?”

I debated how much to tell him. While Dad and Mick had been close, the man was clearly unwell and I had no way of knowing how trustworthy he’d be. “Someone is trying to find the money he stole,” I said, settling for a partial truth. There was no need to tell him the men in question were the ones who’d killed Dad and escaped prison. “I thought they might have come looking for you in case you have any idea where he put it.”

Mick chortled wetly. “You think I’d be living in a shithole like this if I had any idea where the money was?” He shook his head. “I spent weeks looking for that cash. Figured if anyone could find it, it’d be me, but there was no sign of the damn stuff.”

Kade scoffed in the doorway and I shot him a look. Mick would hardly open up to us if he knew Kade was silently judging him.

“Where did you look?” I asked.

Mick rested his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes as if trying to summon the memory. “I didn’t bother with your house since the cops had already tossed it, but I snooped around his gym, his favorite pubs, your school, that canning factory he used to work at, and badgered every friend of his I could think of. I even checked the garden in case he’d buried it.” He opened his eyes and leaned forward. “I’m telling you, he made that money disappear. My best guess is he rented a safety deposit box under an alias. I asked around but no one at those secure storage places would admit to seeing him.”

I sighed in disappointment. I hadn’t expected Mick to have all the answers, but I’d hoped for more than we’d gotten. I studied him, sorrow pervading me. He seemed like a lonely, sick man who was old beyond his years. If my father had lived, would he have ended up like this? He and Mom had been on the rocks. It was possible they would have divorced. It made me sad to wonder.

“Do you know if anyone else was looking for the money?” Kade asked from the doorway.

Mick’s rheumy gaze flicked to him, and he shrugged. “Probably all of us, but nobody was saying a damn thing.”

From his tone, I got the impression we wouldn’t be hearing much more from Mick.

“Is there anything you need?” I asked softly.

He choked out a laugh. “Another kidney. A few thousand dollars.”

My lips twisted. “I can’t help you there, sorry.”

“Nah, I didn’t think so.” With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself to his feet. “Off with you, then.”

“Bye, Mick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He ushered us to the door, then shut it firmly behind us.

Kade raised a brow. “Your dad was friends with him?”

I took his hand, surprised—and a little pleased—when he immediately interlaced his fingers with mine. “Dad was a complicated guy.”

He snorted. “That’s putting it mildly.” He scanned the corridor, which was still empty. “People are listening.”

I nodded, and we left the building without speaking another word. Outside, darkness was beginning to descend.

“Time to go to the safe house.” Kade’s tone brooked no argument.

“Sure.” I needed time to process everything I’d seen and done and heard today.

I got into the passenger seat and he drove to an apartment building about three or four blocks from where Willow and Ronan lived in Ronan’s penthouse. From the outside, the place was nicer than either of the other two safe houses we’d used, and when he escorted me inside, the decor was pleasant and modern.

“Any thoughts on where to start tomorrow?” Kade asked as we took the elevator up.

I sorted through the possibilities but didn’t land on anything that felt promising. “Maybe we could visit the house.”

He jerked in surprise. “Your old house, you mean?”

“Yeah.” I bit my lip. “Being there might help me remember something important.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?”

“I’ll be okay, if you’re there with me. We need answers, and it’s probably the best way to knock something loose.”