Page 94 of Kane

“Bullshit,” he barked.

“Check the house if you don’t believe me.” The man sounded all practiced and smooth again. “Look anywhere you want. There’s nothing to find.”

Malcolm put his hand on Kane’s shoulder. “Take him up on it. Look for hidden safes, especially in his bedroom. I’ll stay here with Mr. Griffin and talk father to father.”

He wanted to argue, but the truth was, Malcolm hadn’t just lost a brother in all of this; he’d lost a son. If he wanted to have it out with Mandy’s dad, he deserved the chance. “Okay. Mandy, can you show us where to start?”

She clearly didn’t like it, and she didn’t try to hide it, but she also didn’t argue. “Yeah. I have a couple of ideas, but we really need to go through the computers. Chances are, it’s stored digitally somewhere.” She took his hand. “He has a safe in his room upstairs. I know the combination.”

***

Brick

From his hidden location in the hollow space behind the study wall, Brick watched Amanda lead Kane and his club buddies out of the room. Only Kane and his girl knew he was here. His job was to watch and record everything he saw, in case they could catch her dad in an unguarded moment they could use against him. Well, if Kane’s father didn’t kill the guy first.

It would be one way to solve the problem.

Violence and death had been part of Brick’s world for years, so it wasn’t really a shocking proposition, especially since the man had set up his own daughter to be hurt. Low, even for the worst kind of sleazebag. The problem would be in covering it up. The mayor was a high-profile guy. His disappearance would be very noticeable, and after what happened yesterday, his connection to Kane was a matter of public record. No—there was no way to get rid of him quietly.

Malcolm’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “You’ve made trouble for my club for years, and I’ve let it go to avoid an all-out war. Harassment from the cops. Permits rejected. Bank loans denied. But this? There is no ignoring this. I should kill you right now and be done with it.”

Beau scoffed. “You’ll do no such thing. I stuck to our agreement to the letter.”

“Our agreement,” Malcolm hissed, “never said anything about you getting my son killed.”

Brick’s jaw dropped open.

“You and I both wanted our children away from each other. It’s the entire reason you set up the video sting on your own son and sent it to me.”

From his small peephole, Brick watched Beau pick up the leather chair from the floor and settle into it. “It worked like a charm. Your son joined your gang, and my daughter moved on to run a business. But you and I both know there is no cop to testify to the veracity of the video. It wouldn’t stand up for a second in court. So why are you here? Because of your oldest?”

Malcolm braced his hands on the arms of the chair and put his face less than an inch in front of Beau’s. “You’re damn right because of my oldest. You’re the reason he’s dead.”

Beau shrugged. “Not true. He’s dead because your club was foolish enough to cross a Russian syndicate.”

“You are the one who tipped them off.” Spittle flew from Malcolm’s mouth as he hissed.

Beau wiped a droplet from his cheek with his thumb. “David Bennett tipped them off. And frankly, even if he hadn’t, it was only a matter of time before they found out. Even you must see it.”

“You can’t weasel out of this, Beau. You know what you did, and so do I.”

“But the kids don’t.” Beau’s face broke out in a satisfied smile. “Your son has no idea you orchestrated everything that pushed him into your precious biker gang.”

“We. We orchestrated it. Don’t act like you’re blameless.”

The mayor shook his head. “But they already hate me. You can still play the injured party. Unless I tell the truth.”

“And what does the truth get you? No leverage over your daughter—”

“That ship has sailed,” he growled.

Malcolm made a show of cracking his knuckles. “But if you were to just disappear, it would be a win-win. My son would never know the truth. I get justice for Scott’s death, and the whole fucking world would be rid of you.”

Beau rolled his eyes. “How many witnesses saw you come in here? I’m the goddamn mayor of the city. You think no one would notice if I stopped coming to work one day? You think no one would wonder what a crew of dirty bikers was doing at my home the last time anyone saw me? Even you aren’t so stupid, Mal.”

“It would be worth it,” Malcolm whispered. “To wipe the smug smile off your face.”

“You’re not going to kill me,” Beau waved him off. “All we have to do is agree to walk out of here with the same story. I let you take a shot at me—maybe a shiner—for show, and I give you a copy of the video on a flash drive. We say it’s the only copy, and you’ve threatened to kill me if I’m lying. You walk away a hero, and I wash my hands of the whole thing.”