Shattered (Steel Brothers Saga 7) - Page 100

If I could get a hair from one of his brothers or from Marjorie, I could have them compared. That would show whether they were full-blooded siblings. Marjorie would gladly volunteer her hair.

God, what was I thinking?

“Ryan’s here now, in the kitchen with the others,” Melanie was saying. “He seems to be under the impression that you’re lying to him.”

“What? I didn’t. Well, I did, but then I retracted it. I told him I needed to leave this morning for work. But he didn’t believe me, so I said it was something unofficial. I could hardly tell him about the text. That would just worry him.” And then I laughed out loud. “Christ, did I just say that? Here I am, trying to convince you to convince Jonah and Talon that the right thing to do is let Ryan in on all of this, yet I kept this text from him.”

“You didn’t want to hurt him or worry him,” Melanie said. “Believe me, we all understand that. I’ve tried to convince them. Jade too. We just haven’t been successful. He’s their baby brother. They want to protect him, and I can’t blame them for that.”

The plastic bag containing Ryan’s hair pulsed harder, almost with a heartbeat thud now.

Why had I taken that goddamned hair?

And I made a spur-of-the-moment decision. He already thought I was lying to him. What if the test proved he wasn’t Wendy’s son? Then he’d be spared any pain.

If I had the slightest chance of sparing Ryan pain, I would do it. I’d give Marjorie the strand of hair.

Even if it meant losing Ryan.

* * *

A half hour later, I had called Marjorie and asked her to meet me at the station. I had also traced the number of the text to a cell phone registered to a Mary Moon, who just happened to be an orderly at the psych lockup where Wendy Madigan was currently being held. Shocking.

Somehow, Wendy had stolen Ms. Moon’s phone and sent the text. I made a quick call to the detention center and alerted them that Wendy was stealing phones and that they needed to up their security.

I wouldn’t hold my breath, though. The facility was underfunded, and the staff was mostly apathetic. I sighed. From what I knew, apathy was not a good match for Wendy Madigan. Melanie had told me that she was some kind of genius, according to Larry Wade. Cunning and shrewd. Crazy as a loon, but brilliant. A lethal combination.

Whether it was true or not, she thought she was Ryan Steel’s mother.

And a mother always protected her young.

I shook my head. I’d get to the bottom of this one way or another. I just hoped it wouldn’t cost me—

My phone vibrated. Marjorie was downstairs. I buzzed her up.

She brought with her the hair Jonah had taken from Wendy Madigan’s head and also hairs from her, Talon, and Jonah for comparison. “We decided we want to find out once and for all who is who,” she said. “Here’s hoping Tal, Joe, and I have the same mother. I know I’m her daughter. I’m the only one who looks anything like her.”

“The lab is closed on the weekends,” I said, “but I’ll call the tech I use. He’s usually agreeable to coming in and getting things done.”

“Be sure to tell him we’ll make it worth his while.” She patted her purse. “I brought ten grand in cash if he can get results in twelve hours.”

I stopped my eyes from widening. “It may take some more time. Blood or saliva is the best.”

“Unfortunately, there was no way to get any of Wendy’s blood or saliva. Though I’m sure Talon and Joe would have liked to get her blood.”

That actually made me smile. I gave my tech a quick call, and as usual he was eager to do the extra work and make some extra money. And the Steels were offering a pretty penny.

We drove over and met him at the lab.

Tucker Madden was a science geek. Genius, but never had it together enough to actually do anything with his microbiology degree. So he worked as a lab tech. Which was good for the station. He was a wizard with DNA. He could pick out strands from samples that other techs couldn’t make heads or tails of. The DA used him as an expert witness frequently, and we detectives always wanted him doing our tests.

He was wearing his white lab coat and black-rimmed glasses when we got there, his blondish hair in disarray.

“Hey, Tucker,” I said. “Thanks for coming in on such short notice. This is Marjorie Steel.”

“Good to meet you.” He took her hand. “So let’s see the samples you have.”

Marjorie and I both handed him our samples. “We’ve got them all clearly labeled,” I said. “And I know I don’t have to say this, but this is completely confidential.”

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