Bran took a step back as if I’d punched him in the gut. “My mother?”
“She’s a possible suspect.” I continued my reasoning despite his pained expression. “If we’re considering your father I don’t see why we wouldn’t have to include your mother.”
“No.” Bran sliced the air with one hand. “Not an option. She loves me, adores my father. She’s been dedicated to the family for her entire life. Why would she toss it all away for an illegitimate child?”
“Your father—”
“My dad’s been a hound dog for years. Why start killing his lovers now? Why Molly Callendar and leaving Liam alive?” Bran gave an emphatic shake of his head. “No. Not my father and not my mother.”
I decided not to tell him about Bernadette’s threats to me over dinner. Right now I needed us more united than divided.
“Okay.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. Right now I’m so turned around I couldn’t find my way home in my own front yard. I’m not even sure this is the same damned day. Feels like weeks since I got up.”
I gave myself a shake and walked around the small room. “Let’s search here before we’ve got to get out. Once we leave we’re not coming back.” I sniffed the air. “He’s going to get ripe soon enough without air-conditioning.”
Bran gave me a sideways glance. “You going to be okay with him?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Have to be.” I took shallow breaths, trying to cut out the smell of death. “He’s here with no suitcase, no man purse, nothing. Bastard traveled light.”
Bran pointed at something lying on the couch. “Not light enough.”
I walked into the bathroom and grabbed a handful of toilet paper. “Don’t touch it. We’ve got enough prints around here and I’m out of gloves.”
Bran smiled in spite of the situation. “Going to have to teach you to carry more rubbers.”
I ignored him and picked up the disposable cell phone. It was slender and looked like a toy.
Bran winced. “Getting smaller and smaller.”
“Cheaper and cheaper too.” I hit the redial button.
“Hanover Investments.” The automated cheerful voice babbled, going through a series of options.
I cut the connection.
Bran let out a heavy sigh. “Is it enough evidence against my father?”
I shook my head. “Not a chance. A good lawyer will make the argument Brayton’s an employee of Hanover Investments and it’s as likely a call from here was routed to Brayton’s office as it was to your father’s.” I held it up to the light. “But it shows it wasn’t a random killing or kidnapping. Someone set out to kill Molly and kidnap Liam—a definite plan was in place.”
“Hardly a relief.” Bran stared at the ground. “So we know it’s not random.”
“It’s better than nothing.” I placed the phone on the table, careful not to leave any marks on it. “Let’s keep looking.”
Bran worked on the couch while I yanked on the cheap desk drawers, scowling with each empty box. “No clothing, no toiletries, not even a bottle of water. He wasn’t planning to stay here long.”
“A pit stop on his way elsewhere.” Bran flipped the seat cushions. “Ugh. I think I found Hoffa’s body. Or at least the last meal he ate.” He withdrew a pen from an inside pocket of his duster and poked at a fossilized French fry. “I hope Liam doesn’t have trouble eating.”
“Don’t worry. If he’s a breast man like his big brother Jess’ll find a wet nurse in no time.” I shot him a sassy wink. “If he’s on formula it’ll be inside the diaper bag and she’ll make it up for him. He’s in good hands.”
Bran let out a nervous grunt. “I know. I guess I’m still in shock over all this.” The weary smile tore at my heart. “Been a hell of a few hours. All I wanted to do is meet you for lunch and maybe a little afternoon delight.”
“Keep that in mind.” I checked the empty closet. “The day’s not over yet.”
“Tease.” Bran wiped the pen off on the back of the couch.
“I hope Shaw paid for a few days instead of a few hours.” I finished my brief search. “He’s going to start stinking soon enough.”
“Can we find out who he is, where he came from?” Bran asked.
I paused, weighing the options. “I can’t call Hank—he’ll be on me in a second to find out why I’m asking. A request for a search hours after being at a murder scene is going to get me pulled back into the station for questioning. When we get home I can run a computer search on him but if he’s been keeping a low profile there’s not going to be much.”
Bran kicked the couch with the bottom of his boot. “Fuck.”
I didn’t try to stop his little temper tantrum. Truth was I felt like screaming.
The system I’d worked in for most of my life, I couldn’t access for fear of being caught and accused of murder or at the least, be accused of being an accessory to murder.
The system I’d shunned for most of my life, the Felis society that had thrown me out, I had to rely on to protect the smallest victim of all.
Irony sucked.
I looked around the hotel room. The dingy brown walls might have been painted a long time in a past life as a real hotel. A cockroach scurried out from a hole in the wall to glare at us before scampering back inside to join his brothers. There was a faint scratching behind the plasterboard as rats and mice made their way back and forth to the garbage bins out back to feed and to breed.
Liam had sat in the middle of all this with Keith Shaw, waiting for an unknown fate. He hadn’t asked for his mother to be killed or for his father to be a douchebag. He hadn’t done anything other than be born.
Bran motioned for me to hand over Shaw’s wallet. “Let’s go to the bastard’s home. Maybe he left something there saying who he worked for. The cops don’t even know he’s involved so we won’t be tripping over them.”
“Good idea.” Bran recorded the address on his phone. “We need to find out how he got hooked into Hanover Investments. I don’t think he worked there as a temp.”
I used my cell phone to take a picture of the driver’s license before taking the wallet, and pushed it back into Shaw’s pocket. At least they’d be able to identify him when he was found.
Bran studied the pistol on the table. I could almost hear the wheels grinding in his mind.
“No.” I picked it up and wiped it down, sure to erase any prints I’d put on the weapon. It took a minute to put it in Shaw’s hand and wrap his fingers around the metal grip. I let it fall out of the dead man’s hand to the ground.
“It’s the weapon that killed Molly Callendar. It has to stay with him.” I sounded stronger than I felt. “When they find him they’ll be able to track him back to Molly without any problem. We can at least give her parents that much satisfaction, having him dead.”
Bran nodded but still eyed the pistol with longing. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to pack something more than a smile.
We headed for the door and slipped out the back of the hotel via the emergency stairwell and exit door, climbing over empty beer boxes and puddles of vomit to emerge in the back alley. I wasn’t sure how long it’d take for the hotel to find out one of their customers was dead but it didn’t hurt to keep a low profile. The kid at the front desk might or might not remember us but the last thing I needed right now was a phone call from Attersley demanding my immediate return to Division 14—or worse, an alert going out to find and bring me in.
“Think Liam is going to be okay?” Bran winced as he stepped over the remains of someone’s lunch.
“I think he’s going to be spoiled rotten. Doubt Jess is going to hand him over to anyone under the pretense of keeping him in the dark about the Pride.” I took a deep breath of clean air as we moved onto the larger and cleaner sidewalk. “He’ll be safer than if he were in Fort Knox.”