ChapterTwenty-Five
Ronan woke to the sound of his phone. Chloe’s body was wrapped around him and he didn’t want to move. He loved the feel of her against him, but the only person who would call this late was Brendan. He shifted and eased out from under Chloe. Then he sat up and took his phone to the other room.
“Yeah?”
“Cahill’s dead.”
“What?”
“Massive heart attack. He got to the hospital and they worked on him. He was stable for a little while but then had another attack. He’s gone.”
Ronan sank to the couch as the full meaning of Brendan’s words hit him. Alan Cahill was gone and he was the only lead they had to find out what happened to their father. “Fuck.”
“That about sums it up.”
“What do we do now?”
“Give me a couple of days to regroup. Alan might’ve been hiding something, but that doesn’t mean no one else has information.”
“It’s a hell of a roadblock.”
“I’ll let you know if I find anything.” His brother disconnected and Ronan tossed his phone to the side.
“What happened?” Chloe asked from the doorway.
“Alan Cahill died.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
“What did we do?”
He sat up. “We didn’t do anything.”
“We set up Nolan to come and rattle him.”
“You said he didn’t look good when he got there.”
“But then Nolan got him upset.”
Ronan stood and took Chloe’s hand. “He was an old man. None of this is on you.”
“It might be. You don’t know that. That plan might’ve pushed him over the edge.” Her eyes were filled with genuine concern for a man they knew was far from good.
“If he hadn’t been hiding illegal activities, maybe he would’ve been healthier. Hell, if he hadn’t participated in those activities, he might still be here. I’m not the bad guy here.” He wasn’t going to try to muster regret for what they’d done. In the grand scheme of things, they were barely pressing.
“I’m not saying you are. But a man is dead.”
“From a heart attack. It’s not like we murdered him. Maybe his time was just up.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I still feel bad.”
Once again, she was proving she was too good. The only reason this news upset him was because Alan took all the information with him. “Come on. Let’s go back to sleep. You can go to church and light a candle for him.” The old man could use all the help he could get.
“My mom would like for me to join them for Mass other than when my brother is doing it. It would probably help if I believed lighting a candle would make a difference.”
Ronan had nothing to add to that. He wasn’t a church-goer or true believer, so he didn’t hold out hope a candle would save Alan’s soul. He led her back to bed, but sleep eluded him. His mind raced trying to find new possibilities. Would people be more likely to talk now that Cahill was dead? Or would they all continue to keep his secrets?
He lay there for hours replaying every conversation he’d had with Danny Cahill. Nolan had sworn up and down that he didn’t know what had happened to his father. But he’d always suspected Alan knew more.
Did Danny? Danny was an adult when their dad went missing. Mom had never mentioned Danny, only Alan. And the old-timers led Ronan to believe Danny spent more time high than anything. Ronan wondered if he would’ve paid attention to anything his father did. Would it hurt to ask?
He could lose his job.
Possibly be branded as a troublemaker and get blackballed.
It would tip their hand.
He eased out of bed again and got dressed. Looking at Chloe peacefully asleep, he knew he wanted to have more with her. Build a life. A normal life. But he wouldn’t be able to do that until he put the rest to bed. If things blew up any more, he didn’t want her in the blast radius. He had no doubt she would stand by him, but he wouldn’t risk her.
After gathering his things, he picked up her phone and took it with him to the living room. Then he left her a message to explain as best he could. She’d still be pissed. But at least he wasn’t telling her what to do.