A Hamilton Christmas (HIS Series Book 9)

by Sheila Kell

  Before following the others, she reached out to playfully swiped Emily on the arm, but Emily scooted back.

  “Kate, take the table in the back left corner. Jesse, Dad, are you ready?”

  Blake jumped at Emily’s question since he had no idea what he should be ready for. He didn’t want to appear useless in front of his kids, so he said, “Yes.” Then he rubbed his hands together as if he couldn’t wait to dig into something.

  When Jesse raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a small smirk, he knew he hadn’t fooled him, probably none of them.

  “Do you know what we’re going to do?” Emily asked like he used to when she was a little girl.

  Talk about a blow to his ego, but a murderer was at large, so he’d take it. Being in charge wasn’t working as well as he’d expected. “No.”

  Even though he could tell his daughter wanted to laugh, she didn’t. Instead, she turned to Jesse. The blow to his ego just got worse. Slapping him on the shoulder, Jesse told him, “We’re interviewing Lee.”

  Aaron may have identified him as the last man to exit the men’s room, but he knew when one of his sons interviewed Aaron, they’d discover he hadn’t been watching the restroom constantly—who would?—and he was either covering for himself or one of the others.

  As for the others, Stacy— He knew the Manners and couldn’t believe either would do this. Personal feelings couldn’t come into it, though. Although, he refused to believe it was someone in his family. It meant Jacob couldn’t be discounted. Matt and Brad would be watching him like a hawk until he was cleared.

  Before they reached the hallway, Brad strode toward him, grimacing, and stripping off his gloves. No, not more bad news.

  He, Blake, and Brad pulled their heads close to keep from being overheard. Jesse made a point to tell Brad to go by the reception desk and pick up a package before returning to the men’s room.”

  Blake took that as their comms and weapons had been packaged by his staff and placed to be readily accessible. He hated they had to arm themselves covertly, but he saw their point since all of the family hadn’t been cleared, and it would upset the guests to see them carrying.

  “We’d learn a lot more if we had a kit. Thankfully, with Dr. Manner, we did discover how he died. He said he’d explain it all to you two later. As we thought—in my words, not his—our vic was garroted from behind with a thin wire. When the women and Jason do their room search, let them know to look for it because it’s not in there unless it’s underneath the body. Dr. Manner won’t allow us to turn it since we can see the cause of death and the medical examiner will need to see how the blood flowed and all that shit.”

  Brad waved his hand. “Doing what we could, there’s definitely some forensic evidence that we’ve left undisturbed. We did use the supplies Duncan brought, so thank him. There’s a thread under one of his fingernails that I’m guessing is from the killer’s sweater since it doesn’t match his. There weren’t any noticeable skin follicles—probably because of all this clothing.” He shrugged. “We bagged his hands. Depending on the perp’s skill level, he or she might’ve left without any blood on their clothing. Not that we shouldn’t look for specks of blood during the interview, but….”

  “What color’s the thread?” Jesse jumped on the evidence.

  Brad shook his head. “It won’t help.”

  “Why?” Blake couldn’t imagine why not. Surely that would help narrow it down or, at least, release Lee.

  “It’s red.”

  They glanced down at Jesse’s sweater, who put his hands. “Oh, no. It wasn’t me.”

  “We know it wasn’t you, dipshit.” Brad shook his head again. He tended to do that a lot since he’d worked to curb his foul language, which had been a big fail. “We only have a small strand, so that makes it a bit difficult, plus the shade is hard to match. Take a look around.”

  “Christ,” Jesse said as they turned back to each other. “That’s a lot of red tonight. I’d have expected more of a mix of red, green, and blue.”

  Brad grinned, and Blake liked how it gave him an image of Brad as a rebellious child. “I imagine the wives had something to do with all the red in our family.”

  Jesse snorted. “Is that why you and Madison are wearing matching green sweaters?”

  “Fuck you. You’re just jealous because Kate won’t give you that kind of love.”

  “She treats me like an adult and lets me dress myself.”

  Blake’s patience was on a thread itself. These two were the worst of all his kids. No, he’d have to add AJ in the mix. Put them together, and they were impossible. “What color’s Lee’s sweater? I didn’t notice.”

  Brad just raised his eyebrows. He didn’t need to speak, Blake knew.

  “Red.” The finality in Jesse’s voice emphasized the challenge of their job.

  WATCHING EVERYTHING HAPPENING, Reagan knew she had to show her dad the pics, but he was busy and she hoped he’d stop for her. While someone may’ve slipped into the men’s room after she left her surveillance position, there wouldn’t have been enough time to kill someone. Didn’t that take a lot of time, especially if you didn’t want blood on you? She’d have to ask Uncle Matt about that. He’d been a SEAL. He’d probably have had to kill as many people as he’d rescued, or how else would’ve been able to rescue them?

  First, she turned back to Brandon who tried to turn away from her because he was still crying. Only she knew his crying wasn’t for the same reason as hers had been. She slipped into the seat next to him but didn’t look at him. She swung her feet back and forth, watching her black boots and being thankful her mom and dad hadn’t made her wear a dress with uncomfortable shoes.

  Knowing how her dad talked to her when she was upset, she tried to be like him because it always made her feel better. She couldn’t be Brandon’s father, but she could be a good cousin.

  Still looking at her boots, she admitted, “I know you’re not crying for the same reason I was. If it were, like, my dad, I’d be scared and crying too.”

  He wiped the back of his hands across his cheeks. She ignored the gesture, not wanting to make him feel bad. Mom and Dad had taught her a lot about treating people kindly—no matter the situation.

  He turned to her, so she looked back at him, and he looked fierce. “I’m not crying, and my dad’s innocent.”

  “I know he is. No cousin of mine would do something like that.” She knew she sounded like her dad, Mom, and uncles, but she believed it.

  “Do you think your family can, you know, prove he’s not guilty?”

  “Brandon, they’re your family too. Do you really think they won’t find a way to prove someone else killed that man in the ugly sweater?” She shuddered at how she’d seen the man on the floor of the men’s room with blood all over his throat, the red seeping over the tip of the Reindeer antlers on his sweater, and his eyes— She broke off a choke at the memory of his open eyes staring at the ceiling. They had to talk about something else. She couldn’t stand it anymore, and she doubted Brandon wanted to keep talking about it all.

  “I’m worried,” Brandon admitted. “What will I do if Dad goes, you know, to jail? I don’t have anyone else to live with.”

  “You can live with any of us, even Uncle Trent who has a ranch in Montana.”

  His eyes went wide in surprise and not fear this time. “Really? A ranch? That’s so cool.”

  This was more fun to talk about. “I have my own horse there called Wings. I have one at home too. Winglet. Brett’s the best trainer—ever. You’ll love him. Wanna ride Winglet sometime?”

  “I do.” His excitement made her happy that he wasn’t thinking about his dad for a moment. Then he frowned. “I’ve never ridden a horse before. Is it hard to learn?”

  “Not with Winglet. Besides, Brett will teach you. He’s training me for shows. When it gets warm, my dad will have, like, a big family barbecue. Actually, he does two. One for just family and one for everybody on HIS.” She leaned toward him and whispered. “
Some of those big men scare me. They’re all nice and are good to me, but ones like Doc are bigger than anyone in our family.”

  They were back to what stood before them. Family and HIS, once again saving the day. They’d fix this. They always did.

  “Wow.” His eyes grew to big round circles, but she could tell his fear had returned. And why shouldn’t it with what was at stake for him. How well he hid it impressed her. He had to learn he didn’t have to hide it from family. “Is that what my great uncle was talking about then doing today?”

  She gave a vigorous nod. “They do so much more, but my dad and my uncles plus Mom, Aunt Rylee, and Aunt Kate, oh, and Aunt Em will investigate. Aunt Megan and Aunt Kelly are investigative reporters, so they sometimes help.”

  “The women too?” His bewilderment told her she had her work cut out for her to introduce him to the family and who they are. “Can we help them? I mean, it’s my dad.”

  She jumped from her sitting position on her chair. Yes. They would do something for her need to solve a mystery and for his desire to help prove his dad innocent. “We’ll find a way, even if they say no.” Her first person was her dad. He’d listen and get Cousin Lee to be free. “Let’s go.” Brandon’s sadness began to reappear. She had to show him what the adults could do and how their family worked. “We’re going to see my dad.”

  Before Reagan reached her dad, she watched Uncle Brad walk to the reception desk, grabbed some stuff, then walk back to the men’s room. She shuddered and a sick feeling formed in her tummy. Someone had to do that stuff. She’d hire someone who could do it, so she didn’t have to. With a nod to herself, she agreed that was a good plan because she didn’t want to see— She shuddered without completing the thought.

  Dad and Poppy looked over a map that didn’t have streets; it had boxes connected to each other. Her dad pointed out something, and the two men frowned at each other as Uncle Devon approached and looked very, very angry. His face was redder than she’d ever seen it.

  Quickly, the three men looked at what Uncle Devon showed them on his laptop screen. Knowing how important it must be to the investigation, she and Brandon held back and waited their turn. Holding her phone tightly, as if the murderer could steal it and erase her pics, she wished she’d taken video as a backup.

  Grandma appeared in front of her and Reagan knew they’d just lost their spot with their important evidence. “You need to leave them alone, sweetie.” With her hands out, looking like she was shooing them, she walked them back. “This is very important, and they’re really busy.”

  “But—”

  “Reagan, you know they need to focus. I’m sure you and Brandon just wanted to know how it’s going. Brandon, especially. I’ll tell you what. When they have something, I’ll come tell you.” Her nice grandma smile made Reagan want to obey, but it was too important she talk to her dad.

  “But, I’ve got something Dad needs to see.”

  She gave Reagan one of those nice grandma smiles that said to behave. “Now, your aunts—” She smiled at Brandon. “—and your cousins could use your help managing all of the little ones.”

  Suddenly, Reagan had a thought. Aunt Megan was an investigative reporter. She and Brandon could ask questions on what to do, then slip away. If she couldn’t give her dad the pics, the two of them would find any evidence the adults missed.

  Even though she still shook a little from being scared, excitement bubbled in her tummy that it would be her first murder investigation. Then she looked at Brandon and remembered what her dad had told her: They’re real people with real families that care about them. Professionalism and compassion lead everything we do. Stopping her smile, she nodded to her grandma and pulled a confused Brandon with her.

  “I’ll tell you in a minute,” she whispered to him.

  His worried gaze flicked between her and her dad. “But we didn’t get them the evidence.”

  “I’ve a plan. Let’s help my aunts for a little bit. I’ll introduce you to our young cousins.”

  Even though he nodded his agreement, she could tell they’d have to try again with her dad or one of her uncles, then help or even solve the case for them.

  Reagan chuckled at Brandon’s wide eyes when he saw all the little ones. “Are you ready? You don’t have to remember them all right now.”

  When a huff sounded beside her, Reagan realized she’d made a mistake and owed Amber an apology. Turning to her, Amber propped a hand on her hip and looked really mad and maybe hurt.

  “Just where have you been? Now that Brandon’s here, you never let me do anything.”

  Not wanting to point out that they’d only met Brandon a few hours ago, she placed her hand lightly on Amber’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. We just wandered off and, like, it was too late when I remembered. But later….”

  Both of her cousins’ eyes grew into saucers. Leaning closer to between the two, they leaned in too. “Shh, we’ve got an op later.” She stood back up and made a plan in her head. “Brandon, let’s introduce you.”

  Most of the kids were in the portable cribs. Ace was too old, and Reagan watched him get out without anyone noticing. She rushed over and caught him before he took off. He had too much of her Uncle AJ in him. At least that’s what her dad said.

  “Who’s that?” Brandon asked, pointing at the kid she held by his sweater to keep him in place. “Ace is three and a half and belongs to Uncle AJ and Aunt Megan.” She looked at the other kids and pointed. “Pamela is also theirs, and she’s about five months.”

  Aunt Megan returned from somewhere, reaching for Pamela, and saw Reagan’s struggle. Shaking her head, Aunt Megan put Pamela back down and collected a squirming Ace. “Thanks, Reagan. What’re you three up to?” She narrowed her eyes. “Not trouble I hope?”

  With what she hoped was an innocent smile, she said, “Nope. But we’d like to talk with you in a few minutes.”

  “Okay, but I have to feed Pamela first.”

  Reagan didn’t want to talk about that. She shuddered. It was weird. “I wanna introduce all the babies to Brandon.”

  Aunt Megan rolled her eyes. “He’ll never remember all of them.”

  “We know, but it’s important he sees all the family.”

  “Okay, just don’t bother any who are sleeping.” She walked away, and Reagan wanted to hurry. They wouldn’t be able to slip away right away because even though her aunts weren’t watching them, Grandma was.

  “Why aren’t we leaving now? I mean, my dad’s in trouble.”

  “Shh,” she said as she walked to the next crib. “Grandma’s watching us. We’ll get to it, don’t worry.”

  “If we don’t go soon, I’m going and if I have to punch your dad to make him listen, I will.”

  She whirled on him and pointed her finger. “You won’t touch my dad or you’ll be sorry.”

  “Okay you two,” Aunt Caitlyn said—too close to them. “Be nice.”

  Brandon grunted and pointed at the next set of kids to move away from her aunt. “Who’re they?”

  “Uncle Jake and Aunt Em both work for HIS, but differently. Here’s their—”

  Bouncing, Amber excitedly boasted, “Me. I’m the oldest, and I’m almost seven.”

  Six. Seven. She wouldn’t have that conversation again.

  Amber pointed. “That’s my baby sister, Leslie.” She wrinkled her nose. “Mom and Dad said she was named for someone they could never thank enough. I kinda remember a Les, but he was a guy.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Reagan’s eyes teared up. She knew who Les had been and what had happened to him. Overhearing everything from her parents, it was better Amber not remember. To keep them going, she pointed out the next two and showed him the sleeping ones too.

  Brandon looked up and down the row. “There’s a lot about the same age.”

  “There are, but let’s talk to Aunt Megan since Ace has settled down.”

  “Is Ace his real name?”

  Amber piped up. “Nope, it’s Alexander.
I don’t know why they don’t call him that.”

  She didn’t want to be the one who always explained family things to Amber. “Poppy, Uncle AJ, and Ace all have the same first name, but none use it.” She shrugged and opened her hands in front of her in question. “Don’t know why. Scott and Travis’s middle name is Alexander.”

  Skipping beside her, Amber asked, “Can we find that out next?”

  “Sure.” Believing it would be an easy and short investigation, she turned to Amber. “In fact, you can lead it.”

  She stopped, and her eyes grew rounder than Reagan had ever seen. Her decision had been the right one. “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  Brandon folded his arms across his chest. If he was trying to intimidate her, he failed. She’d seen that look on her uncles, and Brandon wasn’t nearly as scary. “If she gets one, why don’t I get one? This one in fact. It’s my dad.”

  They were spending way too much time on this. Trying to be like her dad, she put as much confidence and bossiness in her words. “You’ll get one, but you should watch first. Plus, Dad says you should never be personally involved. I’m not sure my uncles always followed that rule. Their situations were complicated. Now, let’s get this done. It’s late, and they may make us go to our rooms before we can do anything.” With that, she turned and walked the last few steps to her aunt.

  She had to find out if everyone except her family were here and would stay here. While curious and wanting to prove herself, she wasn’t stupid enough to roam when a killer was loose. She trusted the adults in her family to keep the murderer close.

  WITH BLAKE AND Jesse’s footsteps closing in on the office where Lee was being held, Blake wasn’t surprised when AJ poked his head out of the room. Blake and Jesse came to a stop in front of AJ once he’d fully exited the room.

  “All okay, son?” Blake asked, his voice strong. “Anyone besides family come back?”

  AJ shook his head. “No. We had a few employees who kept asking if we needed anything. Then I guess you pulled them out front.” He focused on Jesse. “Which reminds me. Why did it take so long? If they’d wanted to scurry back here, I couldn’t have kept track.”