Hear No Evil (Brotherhood Trilogy Book 3)

by Jordan Ford

  That’s what I want to do one day. Write mystery novels.

  The hours I spend walking through the woods are inspiration for the day I finally finish one of the twenty stories I’ve started.

  “One day,” I murmur, turning back to the phone. I inspect the box and smile. This will be perfect for Jules. All I need to do now is formulate a good excuse to head up to the cabin. Dad will let me borrow his truck as long as my reasoning is plausible.

  Maybe a trip down the hill to purchase Christmas presents for the twins will hold up.

  “I can’t find what I want online.” I test out my innocent voice and wonder if it’s good enough.

  Pacing to my window, I keep talking to myself, building a believable story when I spot something out of the corner of my eye.

  Riley’s car!

  It’s ambling down Main Street. It’s going to take that empty spot outside the store.

  My mouth breaks into a huge grin and I quickly hide the phone up by the twins’ wand before dashing down the stairs.

  “Whoa!” Dad steadies me as I jump down the last two steps and crash into him.

  “Sorry.” I grin.

  “What’s the hurry?”

  “No hurry.” I shake my head and inch towards the store.

  Dad’s eyes narrow as he follows me through, a soft grunt coming out of him when he spots Riley through the big glass windows. “The weird kid’s back.”

  “He’s not weird.” I roll my eyes.

  He gives me a sidelong look and grunts again. “He lives by himself in the mountains. That’s weird.”

  “No it’s not. You told me a guy used to live up at the cabin years ago.”

  “Exactly. And look what happened to him.” Dad’s eyebrows bunch together as he rubs his mouth.

  I approach softly, resting my hip against the counter and gazing up at Dad’s stormy expression. “What did happen to him? All you ever mumble is that the place is haunted. You know that’s not true. So, what happened up at the cabin?”

  “No one really knows.”

  I scoff. “Because no one’s willing to talk about it.”

  “There’s reasons for that, Caity.” Dad’s voice is so serious.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m eighteen. You don’t have to hide me from the world anymore.”

  He touches my chin and gives me a soft smile. “Why focus on ugliness when there are so many things to appreciate?”

  “Maybe the ugly helps us appreciate the beauty even more.”

  He grunts and shakes his head. “Always got a comeback, don’t ya?”

  I give him a triumphant smile and he can’t resist. His chuckle is low and gruff as he ruffles my hair.

  “Dad!” I quickly smooth it out, tucking it behind my ears as the bell above the door dings.

  Riley kind of stomps in, his expression hard…his eyes gray. I wonder what’s put him in a foul mood.

  “Ryan,” Dad nods at him.

  “Afternoon, sir.” Riley’s smile is polite, his voice low and matter-of-fact as he places a quick order. His gaze flashes to mine and then back to the counter.

  It’s kind of awkward, and I feel instantly gutted that telling him the truth the other day has obviously shifted things in our relationship.

  Dad taps his pencil on the list he was scribbling while Riley spoke. “Some of this stuff’s out in the back. I’ll go grab it. You know where everything else is.”

  Riley nods and turns into the store. I skip out from behind the counter and walk behind him. “You need help finding anything?”

  He glances over his shoulder. “No, I’m good.”

  I sigh and try not to let his cool attitude bother me.

  He touched my face. I don’t know much about this kind of stuff, but surely it means something.

  With a heavy sigh, I step up right beside him. “Please don’t be mad with me that I know the truth. I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone…and I won’t.”

  He goes still, his arm in mid-air as he’s reaching for a can of tomato paste.

  “Jules making ketchup again?” Shit, I’m so damn nosy. I bite my lips together, wishing I had more control.

  Riley’s lips twitch and he places the can in the basket he’s carrying. “I’m not mad at you,” he murmurs. “I’m just tired.”

  “Why? Ellie keeping you up?”

  He lifts his eyebrows and tips his head…meaning yes, but it’s something more.

  My forehead bunches with concern.

  He catches my expression and forces a smile. “I’m okay.” Clearing his throat, he scratches the back of his head and asks, “Can you help me find the apple cider?”

  I nod and spin towards the right aisle. “Jules is definitely making ketchup.”

  Riley snickers and follows after me, his mood slowly lifting as we fill his basket. I’m trying to be funny and make him smile. For all my effort, I score one genuine grin in the ten minutes we’re shopping. It’s a win, albeit a slightly exhausting one.

  Riley has always been a close-to-the-chest kind of guy, but when he’s like this, it’s like squeezing juice from a hunk of granite.

  Dad’s still out back so I start ringing up the items. Riley rests his hands on the counter and watches me. The smudges under his eyes do look kind of dark today, and his skin’s a little pale.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Closing his eyes, he rubs his forehead, then scans the store before softly admitting, “Nightmares.”

  My eyes bulge. “About what?”

  He shrugs. “A bunch of stuff. They’re so vivid sometimes. Like they’re memories. But they can’t be. Screaming. Gunshots. I…” He scratches his bristles. “It’s probably just my mind messing with me. When Ana got shot—”

  His words cut off, a muscle in his neck straining tight as he clamps his teeth together.

  “Wow. You must be tired. You’ve never slipped up like that before.”

  His head droops forward while he lets out this heavy sigh. “Shit.”

  I put his mind at ease, gently patting his hand. “Hey, you can trust me. I told you I have my theories and now I understand why you’re in hiding.” Leaning my elbows on the counter, I whisper, “Was it her uncle? That’s the part I’m struggling to figure out. Wasn’t he in jail when you guys ran? So wh—”

  My back pings straight as Dad lumbers back into the store. “Got everything you need right here.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Powell.” Riley takes the bag of supplies and places it next to me on the counter, adding each item as I ring it up.

  Dad’s gaze is overpowering as he watches our quiet exchange. It makes me twitchy. The can of tomato paste slips from my fingers and rolls for the floor. Riley catches it and pops it into the bag. We share a quick glance.

  Dad clears his throat and out of the corner of my eye, I see him fold his arms.

  “Hurry it up,” he mutters. “I know you’re only going slow to get out of your calc assignment.”

  “Calc.” Riley’s eyebrows pop up. “What are you working on?”

  A guy who loves to learn. That shouldn’t make my heart flutter so damn hard. But his eyes are bright with interest.

  “I’m, um…it’s a…chain rules formula. Real-life applications of derivatives.”

  “Nice.” Riley bobs his head, his lips pulling into a quick smile.

  “You think?” I can’t help a touch of sarcasm. I love learning, I do, but I can think of more interesting things than calculus. Give me history, English, geography. Heck, I’ll even take US government over calculus.

  Dad snickers and pats my shoulder. “Caity’s nemesis this year.”

  “Well, do you need some help? I was pretty good at calc.”

  Why am I not surprised? I smile at him, loving how smart he is. “Sure. That’d be great.”

  He grins at me and we share another look.

  Dad grunts.

  I ignore him.

  As soon as Riley’s finished paying for his stuff, I nod towards the back steps. Riley g
rabs his shopping bags and glances at my dad.

  Giving him a cautious smile, he eases around the big guy and follows me to the back of the store.

  “Leave your door open!” Dad calls as we walk away from him.

  I roll my eyes and throw Riley a twitchy smile. I can’t believe this. Riley is going to help me with my calc assignment. Or maybe he’s just coming up to find out the rest of my Ana theory.

  Either way, I don’t care. Riley’s coming up to my room! Who knew calculus could offer such a big window of opportunity? I will never regret taking it again.

  #6:

  The Truth Can Be Confusing

  Riley

  Caitlin’s butt looks super hot in those jeans. I try not to stare at it, but it’s kind of hard because I’m following her up the stairs and it’s in my direct line of sight. I take advantage and study those perfect curves one last time before we reach the top.

  I hope I look innocent enough when she glances back to grin at me.

  “Thank you so much for helping me with this.” Her blue eyes study me as she stands in her doorway. She’s looking for signs of why I’m really up here. She knows I only volunteered to help because I want her theory on Ana.

  Well, actually, it’s not the only reason. I really did love calc at school. I loved everything.

  I miss school.

  That makes me sound like a nerd, but I don’t really care. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to learn and better myself. I’ve always been driven when it comes to studying. Learning empowers me somehow, makes me feel like I’m doing everything I can to lose the stigma of being nothing more than a lonely orphan.

  I scratch my whiskers and force a smile.

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” she whispers.

  “Thank you,” I croak, then follow her in.

  She closes the door behind her and even locks it.

  I give her a confused frown. “Didn’t your Dad…”

  “Yeah, but he was forgetting the twin factor.”

  “The twin factor?”

  “Yes. They may be pint-sized, but Penny and Gina are like two tornados. They get one whiff of a stranger up here and they’ll be dogging us. We’ll be lucky to get through a sentence, let alone a whole conversation.”

  She plops down on the edge of her bed and wraps her fingers around the ball of the metal frame. It looks like it’s straight out of Anne of Green Gables or something. I can’t help a smile as I run my fingers along the black iron. “Nice bed.”

  She snickers and tucks her hair behind her ear.

  I scan the room the way I always do, learning what I can in a quick sweep—cluttered desk, piles of bright orange and blue pillows on her bed, a shabby Mickey Mouse (well loved), an old shoebox next to her lamp. I can’t help wondering what’s inside it but avert my gaze to the pictures on the ceiling. All book covers: everything from Cassandra Clare’s Clockwork series to Nicholas Sparks’ The Notebook to Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series, and of course the Harry Potter collection. I crane my neck to study the collage, impressed by how cool it looks.

  “You have good taste in literature.”

  She grins. “So do you. Have you read all of these?”

  “Everything but The Notebook.” I wrinkle my nose. “You’re missing The Hunger Games.”

  “I’ve read them, I just haven’t put the covers up.”

  “I’m guessing if you put up the covers of every book you’ve read, there’d be no wall space left in the entire place. The store included.”

  She laughs. “Reading’s an escape. It fuels my imagination. There’s nothing like getting lost in another world.”

  My eyes flick to hers and we stay locked in something I can’t explain for a minute. I love the richness of her eyes. There’s so much depth there. So much intelligence.

  “I want to be a writer one day,” she whispers.

  I smile. “And now I know why you hate calculus.”

  Her laughter is sweet and melodic. “I still don’t know why I took it. Honestly. I think I liked the idea of challenging myself.”

  And that’s why I’m falling for her. She’s smart, motivated, pretty—the whole package.

  Damn, I wish I could have her.

  I spin around to look at her desk, trying to ward off the strength of my emotions. “So, uh…” I tap the spacebar on her laptop to wake up the screen. “Should we get started?”

  “Riley.” Caitlin’s serious tone makes me turn to face her. “You’re not here to help me with my assignment. You want to know my theory.”

  I plonk into her chair with a sigh. “Am I that transparent?”

  She grins and shuffles around on her bed, tucking her leg beneath that perfect butt of hers. There’s this little fire in her eyes, like the thrill of the mystery gives her a buzz, and she starts talking with her hands as well.

  If we weren’t discussing such serious stuff, I’d lean back with a little smile and enjoy the show.

  “Okay, so I’m not entirely sure how all the pieces fit together but Ana, to me, looks kind of like Christiana Sorrentino. Now, according to what I’ve found out, there was a new student at Eton Prep—Chris something or other. His parents pulled him out after you guys went missing.” She looks at me but I keep my expression bland, so she keeps going. “When Roberto Candella was murdered, Marco Sorrentino was arrested pretty quickly. How did the police know it was him? There obviously wasn’t enough evidence, or he wouldn’t have been acquitted so easily. Which makes me think there must have been a witness.”

  I swallow and look to the floor. She’s sharper than a samurai sword.

  “Roberto’s father accused Christiana Sorrentino of killing his son. But she was nowhere to be found. Unless…”

  Scratching the back of my neck, I keep my gaze glued to the floorboards.

  “Was she like in witness protection or something? Because her hair’s short and black, unlike the photos shown on the media when she went missing. Now, if you’ve been living up in the cabin for about ten months, it’s had a little time to grow, meaning it must have been super short before that. You know, kind of like a boy’s hairstyle. Cut and dyed so she could hide out in a boys’ boarding school.”

  My lips part without me meaning to.

  “So if I’m right on that score, then something must have gone down to make you guys run away. You just said she was shot. So you must be hiding here to protect her.”

  It’s impossible to mask my astonishment any longer. “How the hell do you figure this stuff out?”

  She shrugs. “I’m a curious person. I’ve literally spent hours researching this theory.”

  “Shit.” I dip my head and hope like hell it isn’t a family trait. “Your uncle… He’s the sheriff.”

  “Tia’s brother?” She makes a disgusted noise and sticks out her tongue. “He’s a fat, lazy sloth. Believe me, he’s so apathetic it’s actually concerning. I feel like the only person in this town who ever questions anything. As long as it doesn’t disrupt their perfect little lives, they don’t care.” She huffs and shakes her head. “This place drives me crazy. Narrow-minded simpletons.”

  I shake my head with a soft chuckle. “That’s a good thing. It makes Legacy safe. That’s why we’ve stuck around.”

  She purses her lips and nods. “Well, I’m grateful for that.”

  Her soft voice, the sweet way she’s looking at me. Damn, it curls my insides. A girl has never had this kind of effect on me before. Probably because I’ve never met a girl like her.

  “So, am I right?” Her nose wrinkles. “My theory…about Ana?”

  I give her a short nod but won’t make eye contact.

  “How long are you planning on staying up here? I mean, her uncle’s been released, right? Is that who you’re really hiding from? Because I don’t get that. She would have had time to testify against him, unless—”

  “She did.” My voice is a little dark. I’m obviously still bitter over the fact she chickened out.

  I can’t
help it. She had a chance to put a guilty man in jail.

  I would have been all over that.

  “But she got shot, and now she’s scared, right?” Caity studies me, making it damn hard to keep my expression neutral. “Who shot her?”

  I clench my jaw and look out the window. “Her father.” I feel kind of bad for admitting this stuff out loud. Trey will kick my ass if he finds out. “He wanted Roberto Candella dead. Some family feud. So he sent his brother to do it. Ana got in the way, refused to be loyal to her family, so…”

  “Whoa.” Caitlin blinks a couple of times. “That’s heavy.”

  “Yeah,” I murmur, feeling the weight of it.

  The weight of everything—my dreams, my unrest, Ellie, my brothers. Some days it feels like too much.

  Caitlin moves around the bed, taking a seat on the other side so she can reach out and touch my knee. “I’m sorry. You should be in college right now, expanding that amazing brain of yours, not stuck in a haunted cabin.”

  The twinkle in her eye is kind of cute and forces my lips into a smile.

  “Yeah, well, hopefully the ghosts won’t get me…and I’ll make it to college one day.”

  “Definitely.” The word is like an afterthought, coming out on a whisper because her eyes are too busy studying something on my face.

  I blink and go to look away from her, but she grabs my chin and forces me back.

  “Nightmares,” she whispers. “Ghosts.”

  I ease away from her touch and try for a smile, but it doesn’t lift my cheeks because her gaze is narrowing, studying, reaching inside of me.

  “How did you know about the cabin?”

  I shrug, hesitant to give too much away. “We just found it. Looked like it hadn’t been used in years. Figured it was safe enough.”

  “That’s not true though, is it? There’s no way in hell you stumble across a place like Legacy. Someone in your little crew knew it was here. Someone visited that cabin when they were young. Who was it?”

  I swallow, my voice somehow lost as I watch her expression falter.

  Her eyes grow large, her lips parting as she stands and walks away from the bed. “Did you know him?”

  My forehead wrinkles.