Savage Little Lies (Court Legacy 2)

I have to know the truth.

I nodded because I had to in that moment, hating lying to my dad. He’d go to the ends of the earth for me.

“If you boys leave, don’t go far,” he said. He left, but I only stood in the kitchen for a few moments. After feeding Chestnut (we’d brought her with us), I looked around the cabin for my friends.

I ended up finding Wells and Thatcher in the dining room still. They had the rags they’d used to wipe down the table folded. Sitting in two of the dining room chairs, they had their thumbs dashing across their phones.

They stopped when I came in, my thoughts still turning from the conversation with my dad. Wells frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied, outlining my mouth. I would talk to my dad. I would, but only if and when I thought it was necessary. I wasn’t quite sure yet as I approached my friends. I gazed around. “Where’s Wolf?”

“Smoking.” This came from Thatcher. He sat up. “Said he needed to think. Went outside after we finished in here.”

I wished I was out there with him, a strong blunt needed to calm me down right now.

Wells said he texted him to come inside, and while we waited, Thatcher got his laptop out. He booted it up. “Where’s your dad?”

“He, the dads, and LJ all went to the shops. They’re meeting up with our moms, Billie, and Bow for a movie.”

Thatcher tapped some keys. “That gives us some solid hours, then.”

My gaze directed to my buddy at the door, Wolf sauntering in. He had a beanie on over his hair, one he pulled off when he came into the room.

I gave him my hand. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He pulled me in, real quiet at dinner. We’d all been, and I was surprised none of our parents had called us out. We’d definitely exchanged looks between us. We had shit to talk about, but no opportunity.

At least until now, the cabin quiet. I tapped Wolf’s fist. “You were smoking?”

“Yeah, just needed to get out of my head.” He angled his gaze around. “Where are the dads?”

We told him, and after we did, he closed the door. We all convened at a corner of the large oak table, long enough to literally seat everyone, our parents and Bow included. When my parents had bought this place, my dad had intended for the cabin to be a home away from home, one all the families could go to and had over the years. My buddies and I had spent countless summers here, so many good times had.

“Where’s my grandfather?” I asked, getting right into things. “He still in town?”

“Nah.” Wolf put his hands together. “Had Thatcher track him.”

“He made it easy.” Thatcher shrugged. “I didn’t have to do much, and actually, I thought it’d be harder. You never told Wolf where you thought he went after he dropped you off, but fucker popped up at the first hotel I called. I started with those, the nicest ones I could think of downtown, thinking maybe he was staying at one.”

“Good idea,” I said. “That’s where he was staying?”

“Yeah, and using that fake-ass name he’s been going under.” He swiveled his computer around, his screen filled with pinpoints on a Maywood Heights’s town map. “There wasn’t much movement after that. Though I don’t know where he was before I identified him. I was able to get his whereabouts the next day in the evening.” Thatcher clicked around. “He was at that hotel and didn’t really move after that. He went to the store a couple times, late. But other than that, nothing. We had some stoner asshole track his movements for a hundred bucks while we were all at school or with our parents.”

“I took up the shifts after that, watching him?” Wells lifted a hand. “He didn’t really do anything, D. Nothing weird anyway.”

“And he only stayed a few days.” Wolf nodded. “He left just like he told you he would.”

That didn’t mean much to me. “Where is he now?”

Thatcher clicked a button on his computer. “Last we could track him was the airport. Stoner guy told us he booked a flight to India.”

“India?”

Thatcher put his hands together. “He’s got businesses there. Just built an airport actually and has a nice little paper trail for that fake-ass name. If he was trying to hide something from someone, he’s doing a shitty-ass job. Callum Montgomery has lots of businesses in India, and they appear legitimate. In fact, all his businesses do. He’s a land developer. Been out there for years, I guess.”

“What about the name Montgomery?”

“Couldn’t find any ties back to you or your family.” Thatcher sat back. “It’s a pretty common name, and the only thing I could find was another Callum Montgomery, but that was way before Callum Prinze’s time, your grandfather?” Thatcher shook his head. “Anyway, that family was a bunch of bootleggers.”