Rory’s idea isn’t a bad one. And if I worked at the city attorney’s office… I’d be working with Donny Steel.
Not a bad idea.
Not a bad idea at all.
Chapter Seven
Donny
“What the hell are you talking about, Murphy?” I demand.
Though I’m pretty sure I already know. Our conversation with Ashley while we walked to the guesthouse replays in my mind.
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of your parents,” Ashley said, “but Brendan told me some strange stuff that night he and I had dinner.”
“That night he tried to move in on my woman,” Dale said.
Ashley giggled. “He didn’t get very far.”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“Not a lot, just that…”
“What, baby?” Dale asked, his eyes wide.
“That…people seem to disappear when the Steels are involved.”
Dale and I both stopped walking, our feet seemingly glued to the path.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“We were talking about his great-uncle, the original Sean Murphy, who his dad was named after.”
“What about him?”
“Did you know that he died at your grandparents’ wedding?”
Dale and I both dropped our mouths open.
“I’ll take that as a no. Apparently the original Sean Murphy was your grandfather’s best man, and he passed out while giving his toast. He died at the hospital.”
Finally, Dale spoke. “That’s sad. Really sad. But one death doesn’t mean people disappear when we’re around.”
“I agree,” Ashley said, “and I told him so. But apparently Sean the first’s death was the reason Brendan’s dad, Sean the second, originally came to Snow Creek. To try to get to the bottom of his uncle’s untimely death.”
“And did he?” I asked.
Ashley shook her head. “No. But he liked the town so much he stayed here. Bought the bar. Raised his family. A year later, his little sister moved here.”
“Ciara Murphy,” Dale said. “Did he offer any other example of someone who disappeared because of our family?”
Ashley shook her head. “No, but he did make the statement. I honestly didn’t think anything of it…until he sent Dale that ominous text about meeting with you guys.”
I jerk back to the present when my brother’s voice breaks into my thoughts.
“I think I know,” Dale says quietly.
“Ashley?” Brendan says.
“Yeah. She told me what you told her. I kind of filed it away at the time because I had a lot of other shit on my mind, with the fire and all. I guess I should ask Dad about it.”
“Are you talking about the stuff Ashley told us earlier tonight?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Dale’s gaze meets mine, and an understanding passes between us. Dale knows something I don’t, and he’ll tell me later. I’ll hold him to that.
“No one talks about it,” Brendan says. “No one wants to get on the bad side of the Steels.”
“The bad side of the Steels?” I shake my head. “What the fuck?”
“Look,” Brendan says. “No one thinks you’re bad people.”
“We’re fucking good people,” I say adamantly. “This town wouldn’t have survived without us.”
“That’s the point,” Brendan says. “Everyone knows the Steels run this town.”
“We don’t run anything,” I say. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Murphy.”
“Come on,” Brendan says. “Your mother is the city attorney. You’re soon to be her assistant. But that’s not even why people say you run the town. Everyone knows when the coffers are low, the Steels add to them.”
“That’s not running a town,” Dale says quietly. “That’s taking care of our own.”
“Potato, po-tah-to,” Brendan says.
I stand then, anger boiling through me. “We’re done here. Let’s go, Dale.”
Dale stays seated. Yeah, he knows some shit. Big brother will be spilling his guts later if I have to beat it out of him. Never in a million years would I think of physically harming my brother, but that’s how mad I am at this second.
“I want to ask you both something,” Brendan says.
“Ask it another time.” I walk toward the door. “I’m so out of here.”
“Donny,” Dale says, “you need to sit down. We’re far from done here.”
I shake my head, pretty sure smoke is swirling out of my ears. “You know I’d do anything for you, Dale, but for God’s sake—”
“Sit.” My brother’s tone takes on a sharp edge.
I swear. I know he has no genetic relationship to our father, but in that second, Dale sounded exactly like Talon Steel.
And what do I do? I do exactly what I’d do if Dad had said it.
I sit.
“Fine. What do you want to ask us, Brendan?”
“Just this.” Brendan clears his throat. “We all know how much the Steels are worth. Billions. So here’s my question. Why are you still living here? In Snow Creek?”
“We live on our ranch,” I say. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there? You could be living the high life in LA or New York. London, Paris, Milan. Yet you don’t. None of you. Why?”
I have to admit, Brendan raises an interesting query, and one I haven’t thought about before. Dale and I weren’t born into the Steel family, and once they took us in, our lives were so much better than they’d ever been, neither of us ever considered leaving. Why would we?