The Closer He Gets

“No.” Dave grimaced. “I know you’re right. But there’s been a lot of talk, a lot of pressure. The brass thinks a conviction would make the department look bad.”

“A cover-up makes us look a hell of a lot worse.”

Sweat beaded on Dave’s forehead despite the day being in the low sixties. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Why did I ever tell you anything?”

“I said I wouldn’t name you and I meant it.”

He glared at Bran. “I’m holding you to that.”

He leaped into his vehicle, undoubtedly regretting that he’d stopped to talk to Bran at all, especially right when the shift was changing and a lot of people could have seen them. Everyone assumed Bran and Zach were close.

If only they all knew, Bran thought sourly. So far, every step forward was followed by two back.

His fault as much as Zach’s, he knew, even if he was less sure how to fix it.

What surprised him was how much he wanted to fix the relationship with his brother. Having Zach walk back into his life had shifted something in him. Whether Bran liked him or not was irrelevant.

He gave a short laugh. Truth was he and his brother were too damn much alike.

Waiting until he saw the Explorer speed out of the parking lot before he got into his Camaro, Bran mulled over how he’d tell MacLachlan and company what he’d learned without admitting he’d been asking questions.

* * *

MONDAY MORNING, ZACH stood to the side and watched as the tow truck backed up to his garage. A police photographer had already come out and taken a few dozen pictures from every angle. Detective Easley had given his permission to have the battered Silverado hauled to the wrecking yard, where it would be parted out.

Just the thought curdled Zach’s stomach.

He sure wasn’t in the mood for a visit from Bran, but damned if that wasn’t his Camaro pulling up to the curb.

Zach’s brother got out, raising his brows as he looked at the tow truck. “Something wrong with your pickup?” he asked, cutting across the patchy lawn.

“You could say that.”

With an irritated glance, Bran walked right past him, circling the tow truck to see into the garage. On the threshold, Bran came to a dead stop. He stared for what had to be a couple minutes before turning around.

“What the hell—?”

“I had visitors last night. Three of them. They beat the shit out of my truck and then ran when I came out.”

“You saw them?”

“Unfortunately not well enough to identify them. One guy never got out of the SUV. The other two were carrying some kind of long-handled tools. Maybe mauls.”

Bran nodded.

“I had my Glock with me. I’ve never wanted to shoot someone so bad.” That excited whoop had told him they’d had fun here in his garage.

“I can see why,” his brother surprised him by saying. He hesitated, obviously something was on his mind. “I’ve been asking around,” he said finally. “I heard something you need to know.”

Zach watched as, with whining gears and a clank, the tow truck driver began to attach the pickup. “What’s that?”

“Apparently, Hayes’s confrontation with Alvarez was the second of two parts. The way I hear it, the evening before—” His gaze went past Zach. “Oh, damn.”

Zach turned to see an older pickup slamming to a stop right behind Bran’s black Camaro. A man leaped out and stormed toward them.

It took Zach a moment to bring into focus someone he hadn’t seen in twenty-five years. Dark blond hair had become white. His face was fleshier, his nose had some broken veins that made Zach wonder if he was a heavy drinker. His skin looked leathery. His body had thickened.

But—damn—he was unmistakably Jack Percy, who was now in his sixties. And in a rage, from the look of it.

He got right in Bran’s face, not even glancing at Zach. “You son of a bitch, you’ve been asking questions about me. You couldn’t have the decency to talk to me? You had to go behind my back?” Spittle sprayed Bran, who didn’t as much as flinch. “I was good to you when you were a kid. If you’re suggesting what I think you are—”

“Good to me?” In disgust, Bran wiped his forearm across his face. “You call sneaking into my mother’s bed behind Dad’s back being good to our family?” He’d started low but ended up yelling.