* * * *
Jax fumbled the envelope Joshua had given him. He’d spent nearly half an hour pacing, looking at the name scribbled on the front. Jacksons. The information had been gathered upon his request but sent to all of them.
Still, he wanted to read it alone. He had put this plan in motion. He’d requested the information and perhaps dug up the past when sleeping ghosts should’ve been left alone.
He ripped open the envelope and pulled free a few papers. The first were copies of newspaper clippings, all of which he’d seen. The final three pages were references and summaries. In short, he discovered the truth—the truth as he’d already known it.
Unknown individuals had used the Jackson property for making meth, realizing the vacated premises included a barn no longer deemed usable by the Jackson family. At the time of the Jackson couple’s death, the local police sheriff estimated it had been at least ten days, maybe longer since the barn had been used to manufacture meth. However, all the chemicals there made the property highly flammable.
Jax’s father had been a smoker. The fire had started because he’d thrown down a cigarette right outside the barn. Jax’s mom had been in the truck and saw the fire start. She left the vehicle and tried to help, but it was too late to save Jax’s father and the explosion that claimed her life occurred within minutes of the fire’s start.
At the end of the documents and provided information, Rory Matthews had written a note stating that at that time, Alberto Baldini wasn’t known to manufacture meth. At that time, his business was limited entirely to transportation and he was believed to use eighteen wheelers and cattle trucks to transport drugs and cash across state lines.
Jax breathed easy again. Alberto hadn’t had anything to do with his parents’ death. He wasn’t sure how he might have felt if he’d found out differently, but for now, he was relieved. That was one bridge he didn’t need to cross, one he wouldn’t later have to burn.
Still, Alberto’s absence in his daughters’ lives was enough for Jax to arrive at his own opinions. The man was a coward. He took care of himself while convincing his daughters he had provided well for them. Maybe he was right. Maybe his daughters had been much better off without him. At the very least they didn’t know their father for the hardened criminal who would eventually stand as the accused for numerous worldwide crimes.
Chapter Seventeen
“What do you know about the guy Coco is seeing?” Kane entered the kitchen where Peyton and Drina were making sandwiches.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Drina said, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Honey, those battin’ eyelashes might work on the fellas around here, but it won’t work with me. Who is this Brandon fella?”
“He’s her fuck buddy,” Drina said.
“Language,” Kane grumbled.
“Can’t wait to tell Braden he’s wearing off on you after all these years,” Peyton said, slapping a piece of ham on a bun and squirting mustard on the meat.
Kane’s nose twitched. He hated to admit it but he sounded a little like Braden. Clearing his throat, he gave Drina his undivided attention. “Should your father’s enemies go there—where Coco is staying—on a scale of one to ten, how safe do you think she’d be?”
“A twelve,” Drina replied.
“What’s this about, Kane?” Peyton asked, arranging the sandwiches on a platter.
He frowned. “I spoke to someone who believes all of Alberto’s daughters could indeed be in danger. If that’s true, we’ve got two places covered, but one is wide open for problems. I’m worried Alberto’s friends may have been watching the girls for a long time, far longer than what we originally assumed.” He turned to Drina again. “How many brothers does Brandon have?”
Drina dropped the tub of pimento cheese. She went pale.
“That many, huh?” Kane snorted at that. “Given her voiced opinion on multiple relationships, I didn’t see that one coming.”
“It’s not like that exactly,” Drina explained. “Brandon’s mother is crazy about Coco and she spends a lot of time sitting with her. She seems to enjoy spending time with Brandon and his brothers, too, but she mostly stays with their mom while the fellas are working.”
“Is she ill?” Peyton asked.
“Yes, and she’s a writer. So Coco goes over and writes down story ideas for her. She can no longer see to type them out or sit at her
computer for long periods of time and thanks to her medication, she wouldn’t be able to fully develop a story anyway. Coco made her a promise to take her ideas and develop them or sell them as a package since she has hundreds of ideas and Brandon’s mom seems to think some writers would consider buying them and developing them as well after she passes away.”
“Uh-huh,” Kane said, not necessarily interested in Brandon’s mom. “What about the brothers?”
“We’ve always teased Coco, but no, I don’t think she’s in bed with any of them except Brandon and maybe Kurt. He’s way too cool. If she isn’t doing Kurt, I’ll volunteer and tell her all about it later.”
Peyton laughed.
Kane snarled. “Something tells me Kurt is probably not up for grabs.” He walked outside and called Joshua back. “Send Aspen over to Blazier Farms. He won’t be able to miss the place. It’s right off the last exit at the base of the mountain. He can follow the signs. See how many homegrown boys live out there and get them well prepared. Coco tells half stories here and I’m assuming Brandon and his brothers have received the same.”