The Man Who Hated Ned O'Leary (Dig Two Graves 2)

He had spent years telling himself alternative stories of those excruciating hours. Of Ned’s betrayal and cowardice, and a part of him wanted to believe that Ned had been a rat who’d used him, because that would have been so much easier than the messy truth.

Tommy squeezed his hand, and when he had Cole’s attention back, he signed, [Can someone else take me to the orphanage?]

There was tension to his smooth, young face, but it eased when Cole petted him. “No. We will go together. Sleep.”

The boy hesitated, as if he were about to say something more, but he settled under the covers, and his breathing gradually evened out.

Cole was still stroking Tommy’s hair, not sure if the boy had fallen asleep, when the door opened and Judith popped in her head. It was time for him to go.

“I’m leaving the dog too, if that’s all right,” he whispered, tipping his hat at the ten-year-old twins in colorful costumes.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Judith said before glaring at her children. “Say goodnight to Uncle Cole.”

Uncle Cole. It had been a while since he’d last been called that, but the warmth blooming in his heart was gone the moment he left Judith’s wagon. Left in the dark, he spun on his heel and walked toward the very middle of the encampment. Trembling light made the night sky appear less dark, and by the time he could hear the words of a song in an unfamiliar language, all he could think of was the plan he’d shared with Terje.

Images of Terje’s hand sliding under the jacket Cole had made for Ned, and of the two of them pressing together in the shadow of the big, colorful tent, crept to the back of Cole’s mind, prompting him to walk in a hurry, as if the heat overcoming his body fueled his speed.

But he didn’t enter the patch of grass and mud where most members of the troupe had gathered, and instead stayed in the shadows, his gaze pinned to the familiar silhouette sitting on a wooden bench close to the bonfire. Instead of the jacket, Ned wore an unfamiliar vest, which suited the warm hue of his hair, turning them a brighter shade of red by contrast. Made of green brocade, it hugged Ned’s body snugly and shimmered, reflecting the dancing flames. Ned smiled, acknowledging someone with a nod, but while the softness in his eyes wasn’t for Cole, it still tempted him back, as if he were a moth willing to dash toward a world of pain.

And yet seeing Ned and knowing what he was up to soothed Cole’s aching mind. Maybe he wasn’t jealous after all, just worried for Ned’s future, but things were bound to work out fine. He’d set Ned up with a job in the circus and be off on his not-so-merry way, without the chain keeping his ankle tied to Ned’s.

Jan noticed Cole first and waved in invitation as if the two corpses were no longer an issue. With Adam under one arm, he shook his head so rapidly the fancy top hat almost fell off his head. “Come’ere, partner! I know you have many reasons to drink tonight,” he said and took a tankard from his lover’s hand.

Cole wasn’t sure whether this was a reference to the killing earlier, or the tense conversation Cole had shared with Jan about Tommy, but he left the shadows and sat next to Gavin, who handed him a little packet wrapped in plain paper.

“I must say I kept looking at that one photo longer than I should have.”

Cole counted to three and pocketed the photographs. “Should I look through your wagon?”

The smile wouldn’t leave Gavin’s features, and the glow of the fire reflected off his glasses, hiding one eye behind a white reflex. “Mistrustful as ever.”

“Cautious,” Cole corrected him.

Gavin bowed his head. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret?” Adam asked, fluttering his lashes. If there was one person who couldn’t be trusted with secrets, it was him. Adam wasn’t a bad person, and his antics were never malicious in nature, but they still messed with people’s lives, and Cole wanted to keep him as far from the truth as possible.

“I photographed a lady in her birthday suit.”

Gavin didn’t point out the lie and sipped his beer with a smirk.

“Some special lady, or are you looking to sell?” Jan asked. Always the businessman.

It was hard to focus on his question when Terje approached Ned and offered him a whole bottle of gin.

Cole’s head boiled with rage. He’d specifically told Terje not to drink in Ned’s presence.

He only released the breath he was holding when Ned declined with a wave of his hand before meeting his gaze across the fire. Cole stared into the flames raging in Ned’s eyes, suddenly too heavy to move.