“Was?”
“She died when I was fifteen,” the woman answered, stepping closer, her gaze wary as she took in the Hayes brothers. “I’m looking for Cash. Cash Hayes?” She sounded hesitant, but her question had gotten the boys attention and mine. It couldn’t be a coincidence that she was asking about Cash after what they’d just revealed.
“He’s not here,” I said and her face fell. “Can I ask who’s inquiring? And why?”
“Of course,” she said looking down at her hands. “I’m Cadence.” She looked up, her gaze sweeping over us. “Cash Hayes is my father.”
Chapter One
Noah
“Cash Hayes is dead.” I looked up as Uncle Cal came into the room, a wide smile on his face. “You heard me, Belinda? He’s dead.” Mom came into the room, wiping her hands on a towel as she cut her eyes toward me.
“Little pitchers have big ears,” she fussed, motioning at me.
Uncle Cal ruffled my hair affectionately. “He’s old enough,” he nodded to the police car I was playing with, “Especially if he wants to be a cop one day.”
“He’s seven,” Mom sighed, shaking her head. “Did you say Cash Hayes died?”
“Yes,” Uncle Cal answered, sounding like someone had just given him a present. “There was an incident at the construction site where he was working.”
Mom narrowed her eyes and I ducked my head, recognizing the look and not wanting her to turn it on me. “Don’t sound so happy, Calvin,” she said sharply, her mouth drawing into a frown. “A man is dead.”
“A bad man,” he retorted, pacing across the room. I stared at the floor, my fingers curling around the Hot Wheel motorcycle Creed had given me when Gramps had stopped at the clubhouse. Cash would let me sit on his motorcycle while he talked to Gramps and sometimes Creed was there. I thought it was cool they had their very own clubhouse and that Creed would play with me even though he was older. “No great loss.”
“He has kids,” Mom snapped. “There are four boys without a father. Show some respect for their loss, Calvin Harris.” My shoulders curved as her voice rose. “You didn’t have anything to do with this.” There was a long pause. “Did you?” Her voice grew desperate. “Calvin, answer me.”
“Leave it alone, Sis.”
“Leave it alone?” She repeated in disbelief. “What have you done?”
“Nothing,” Uncle Cal snarled. “You mind your business, Belinda, or the money stops.”
My gaze flickered to Mom as her lips whitened. “She’s not worth it, Cal. You can’t make her love you.” He stomped over to Mom, but she didn’t budge, lifting her chin. “Whatever you’ve done, it won’t change anything.”
“You don’t know that,” he growled, his hands balled into fists, and I scooted behind the couch, taking my motorcycle with me. “I just need a real chance to win her over. She’ll see the truth now that he’s gone.”
Mom shook her head tiredly. “I do know.” She closed her eyes, her hand coming to her mouth as she exhaled. “You need to go.”
“Don’t be like that,” Uncle Cal muttered, but Mom just pointed to the door. “Damn it, Belinda,” he growled, twisting on his heel as he stormed to the door, slamming it behind him. Something crashed to the floor and Mom hurried over to me.
“Noah,” she cried and I crawled out from behind the couch, still holding the toy motorcycle. “Baby.”
“I’m not a baby,” I grumbled but let her drag me into a hug.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“Creed’s dad is dead,” I replied, feeling her chest rise and fall before she nodded.
“Yes, Creed’s daddy is dead.”
“Did Uncle Cal –”
“No,” Mom said harshly and I flinched. She patted my back, rocking gently. “No,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “No. Don’t ever, ever, mention what you heard today.” She pulled away, forcing me to meet her eyes. “Do you understand me, Noah Breaux? You will never talk about this conversation with anyone. Ever.” I nodded, swallowing hard, as I saw the desperation in her face. “I mean it, baby.”
“I promise, Mommy,” I whispered, watching her face crumble before she hugged me tightly. “I won’t say anything.”
***
I flipped on the cruiser’s lights as I pulled behind the disabled RV parked on the shoulder of the empty highway. I unclipped the radio on my shoulder, and checked the side mirror automatically as I opened my door.
I scanned the area, my hand resting on my holster, noting the out of state plates as I approached the RV cautiously. There wasn’t much down this road, and with the only RV park closed, I was suspicious as to why it was here. Mobile meth labs had started popping up in nearby counties, but Friendly had yet to experience a problem, and I had no intentions of allowing any to start today.
A woman swung around the back of the RV, her hair yanked up in a messy bun thing, a smear of grease on her chin. She came to a halt when she caught sight of me and I nodded politely.