Duncan laughed. “Maybe in Miami. That’s not in the top ten most common repairs here in Stimson.”
Conall was smiling, finally. “No. Mom and Dad put a few holes in the wall during their fights, but Dad never liked guns, did he?”
“That was one of his few good features.”
“You ever hear from him?” Conall didn’t even know what made him ask. Niall would have said, surely, if their father had made any appearances.
“Not since the once.” Duncan was the only one to see Dad when he stopped by the house after his release from the correctional institute. “Niall told me he half expects Dad to walk up to him at some bagpipe festival, though.”
“Maybe he’s back in the joint.”
“No, I checked not long ago. Unless he left the state.”
“Do you suppose he and Mom stayed in touch?”
There was a long, long silence. Finally Duncan said, “I wouldn’t put it past them. But no. Dad was too…forlorn when I saw him. I guess he could have hunted her down through Aunt Patty, but she always hated his guts so she probably wouldn’t have told him where Mom was even if it was the next room.”
“No, probably not.”
A few times in his career, it had occurred to Conall that he could conceivably end up in the position of arresting his own father. He’d been relieved not to be assigned to the Northwest.
“You glad to be home?” his brother asked.
He glanced around. “Can’t say this feels like home. I’ve actually been away more than I’ve been here this past year.”
“The boys sorry to see you go?”
“Yeah.” He had to clear his throat. “Yeah, that was rough.” Damn. His sinuses burned.
“Lia know what’ll happen to them?”
“No.” Now his voice was thick. “No, uh, she says placing kids that age isn’t easy, especially when the agency is trying to keep them together.”
“They wouldn’t separate them?”
“I hope not.”
After another silence, Duncan asked, “You ever think of…”
No. Goddamn it. No! How could he?
“I almost got Brendan killed.”
“You know that wasn’t your fault.”
On a burst of self-directed anger, he asked, “Whose fault was it?”
“He’s a kid. They do idiot things like that. Besides—”
Conall was squeezing the bridge of his nose so hard the cartilage creaked. “Besides what?” He managed to get the words out.
“If you left the DEA, you could live a more normal life.”
He laughed in disbelief. “What would I do? Sell cars?”
“Come to work for me.”
This laugh held genuine amusement. “When hell freezes over.”
Duncan chuckled. “I guess maybe that wouldn’t work.”
“It’s a miracle Niall tolerates you as a boss.”
“That might be because we don’t actually have a lot to do with each other on the job.”
“It’s a little weird, though, you’ve got to admit.”
“Maybe.” Duncan went quiet again. “I’m glad you called.”
“Yeah.” Conall swallowed. “Listen, you might check in with Lia. Make sure…” He was hunching his shoulders, as if… He didn’t know.
“She’s okay? Sure.” Pause. “Conall—”
“I’ve got another call coming in,” he lied. “I’ve got to go.”
“All right. I’ve missed you. Don’t make me miss you again.”
“I won’t,” Conall said, and knew he was telling the truth. One good thing: he’d reconnected with his brothers. He hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to lose them again.
He ended the call, thought about checking out his freezer to see if he could find something edible, but couldn’t work up any interest. Lia had spoiled him.
In a thousand ways.
He could stay connected with his brothers long-distance and be okay with that. Suspecting he’d never see Walker and Brendan again…that hurt was unexpectedly powerful.
But knowing he’d never again be able to get up in the morning anticipating the sound of Lia’s voice, never hear her laughing in the kitchen or see her kneeling between the rows in her garden, never again stroke his fingers through the thick silk of her hair as he freed it from the braid… Never kiss her, never touch her, never be touched by her… Conall didn’t know how he’d get himself out of bed tomorrow morning, or the next, or the next.