by TJ Nichols
Cody folded the paper and stood. “Well, you’ll have to remain curious.” He said it flirtatiously, as though they were playing some game that would end with swapping numbers.
Even if he did get Olivier’s number, he’d never call. The man made his blood hot and his skin prickle in warning. He was still the rabbit, and Olivier was a truck bearing down with no intention of stopping.
Olivier leaned back and considered him. “You look so much like this other person that it scared my boss.”
The truck slammed into him, and he couldn’t think. His blood froze, and it took every ounce of will he had not to turn and run. He swallowed. His mouth was still sweet from the sugar, but there was no lingering pleasure.
“Your boss must scare easily.” His heart started to hammer again, and Cody could barely hear his voice over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. Olivier worked for Benitez. He had to. They were talking about Connor.
Olivier laughed. “Maybe. Because you clearly aren’t him.”
For a moment the easy smile faltered and something much sadder was there, but in the next heartbeat, it was gone. Olivier had known his brother. Cody wanted to ask a dozen different questions. He wanted to know what had happened, and he didn’t want to believe that his dad had been involved.
But, then, what did Olivier and Benitez have to do with it?
“Clearly,” Cody agreed. “Was he a friend of yours?”
This time Olivier lied. There was a tell in the way he looked away and his body shifted. “A colleague.”
The lie might have fooled someone else, but not Cody. A magician learned to read body language.
“Close were you? Sure you weren’t lovers?” He had to ask even though he knew the answer. Would Olivier lie about that too?
Olivier’s black eyebrows shot up. “Not close, not lovers. But my boss was close to him.”
That wasn’t all a lie. There was truth there, but Cody didn’t want to dissect it.
“My condolences.” He forced the words out. He wanted to know more, but not there, where Olivier’s boss could come out of church at any moment.
Olivier nodded and pushed back a lock of hair. “As much as I’d like to see you again, it would be best if you stayed away from my boss.”
“Because he scares easy?”
“Because when he is afraid, he tends to jump to extremes.” Olivier stood in one movement. He was like a cat uncurling from sleep, and he sharpened his claws as he straightened his jacket. Not a truck. That was too much of a blunt, careless death for the rabbit. Olivier was more like a mountain lion. Silent, deadly, and hard to kill.
OLIVIER STOOD there and watched Cody leave. He was so much like Connor that Olivier’s blood ran cold, and for a moment, he thought that Connor’s death had been faked. It was only when Olivier sat down at Cody’s table that he realized it wasn’t Connor at all.
There was inviting depth in Cody’s blue eyes when he smiled. Olivier’s blood had quickly gone from cold to hot. His coffee was cooling on the table, barely touched. He needed to get a grip. Even though Cody wasn’t Connor, he was clearly related. And the fact that he was there meant he knew too much. Or maybe he’d made a lucky guess or his appearance at the church was all chance.
He texted Benitez. Nothing to worry about.
That might be a lie. The man certainly wasn’t Connor, which was what Benitez was worried about, but Olivier should tell his boss that the guy was a relative. Maybe. He had no idea.
He needed to find out who Cody was and how he fit into the puzzle. If Cody was smart, Olivier or Benitez wouldn’t see him again. Problem solved. Olivier picked up his cup and drank half the lukewarm contents.
For a few minutes, as he placed his order, he had allowed himself to imagine he was meeting a friend for coffee—that his life allowed for such luxuries as close friends. It was a pleasant daydream, but he had to remember that he lived in a nightmare where any wrong step was punished.
Who? A text came back. Of course Benitez wanted to know who the man was. He was a control freak on a good day.
Looking into it. If Cody vanished, that would be the end of it.
Somehow Olivier doubted his luck would be that good. He typed Cody Anders into the search bar on his phone. It seemed like a good place to start.
The page immediately filled with hits. The coffee turned sour in his mouth and congealed in his stomach. He’d just shaken a skeleton out of the Anders’s family closet.
Connor had a twin—one no one ever talked about. What had Cody done to be shunned? He clicked a link that went to a magic-supply store in Vegas. The same Cody Anders he’d just seen? The Anders family didn’t dabble in magic. They went to college and studied law or medicine or accounting… oh.
That explained why the family didn’t talk about him.
Olivier smiled and finished his cold coffee. Benitez would expect him to wait, so he would. He’d have to tell his boss that Connor had a twin. Wouldn’t he?
He glanced at the church.
In his mind he saw Connor and the fear in his eyes as he almost begged to make sure his wife would be safe before he went to take that fatal hit. If Olivier told Benitez about Cody, would he want that all cleaned up? If he didn’t tell all and it was discovered, Olivier would be holding a gun beneath his own chin.
What did he say? Nothing to worry about, boss. Just a blond guy having his coffee in the wrong place? He didn’t know what Connor and his family had done to Benitez… or what Connor had told his brother. It wasn’t coincidence that Cody had been there.
Olivier grimaced. As much as he’d like to see Cody again, he hoped he wouldn’t.
The church doors opened, and Olivier steeled himself for a gamble. He’d stall. Keep closer tabs on the family. There was no need to kill a man who’d only come back for his brother’s funeral. That didn’t explain why Cody had been watching the church.
Olivier didn’t like coincidences.
Benitez crossed the road as though he owned it and cars would stop for him. He sat down opposite Olivier in the chair that had been occupied by Cody. Olivier much preferred Cody’s company—he was better-looking and entirely more friendly.
“The mystery man?”
“Is exactly that. Didn’t get his name, but it was not our friend.” The lies burned his tongue. The Las Vegas magic-store owner was there for his brother’s funeral and would be gone just as fast, back to his life. Forgotten by his family and Benitez.
Benitez didn’t look happy. He had that shifty look in his eyes. Usually, after being in church, he was relaxed and in a good mood. No doubt he’d spent the last hour fretting about Connor Anders’s rise from the grave. “Why didn’t you get his name?”
“Because he didn’t want to give it. He didn’t want his morning coffee interrupted and left shortly after I joined him.”
“But it definitely wasn’t him.” Benitez frowned as though he knew Olivier was lying.
He should have told the truth, but his next job would have been to take out Cody, even though his only crime was looking too much like a dead man—and being related to Anders senior. That was a dangerous relative to have these days. “Most definitely.”
Benitez drew in a breath. “I don’t trust the father.”
You did just kill his son.
But Mr. Anders was a cold fish with less heart that the average ice cube. How deep was Anders in with Benitez? It wasn’t good business to kill people’s sons, as a general rule, so there was something else going on. And while he wasn’t paid to think, Olivier knew something wasn’t right. He kept his face blank so Benitez wouldn’t see the turmoil that was just beneath his skin. He was good at his job, and that was the number one reason he was still alive.
Benitez just had to keep believing that.
“Anders has been making demands. His son was poking around where he shouldn’t have been.” Benitez nodded, and his eyes narrowed. “Loyalty is most important in those you work with and those who work for you.” Benitez studied Olivier far too
closely. “Keep an eye on the widow.”
The widow? What about the father? Connor had been worried about his wife, and with good reason, it seemed. “How close?”
“Not obtrusively, but around the clock. Pick your men carefully. Let me know if she speaks to the cops or anyone else outside of her social circle. I want to know if her husband told her anything dangerous for her to know.”
Olivier nodded. He was going to have to keep watch on Cody too.
Whatever Connor had known obviously implicated Benitez.
If Olivier could find out what that was, maybe he could use it as leverage to free himself. For one brief and terrifying moment, he imagined killing Benitez.
CHAPTER SIX
CODY STARED at the website and knew he should book a ticket home. He could leave the next day and forget about all of it. There were seats on the flight. He should leave. That would be the safe thing to do—the smart thing. He didn’t click. If he stayed a few more days, he could see a show.
He wasn’t going to see a show.
He could see a show any day of the week in Vegas. Okay, the shows were different, but he still got out. His life was there, not in New York.
On the desk next to him were the papers that Connor had left for him. Connor had entrusted him with something, but Cody didn’t have the balls to find out what. The man in the suit, with his pretty smile and his warning, remained in his mind. Someone had mistaken him for Connor back from the grave. No, not someone. Benitez had mistaken him for his brother, and Olivier had been sent to investigate.
Were they now plotting his death?
Book the flight. None of it was his business. He shouldn’t even have gone to the church. Connor was dead, and no amount of poking around would bring him back. Did it matter why he died? Did it matter that Lily wanted his help to find the answers that would put her mind at ease? The whole thing was a mess that he hadn’t even helped make, and he didn’t want to clean it up. Yet he couldn’t turn his back and walk away. He didn’t like the idea that someone had killed his brother because he was inconvenient.
Connor had always put the family first. He knew how to play the game and stay on their father’s good side. None of it made sense. Even if Dad was corrupt and in with Benitez, that didn’t explain anything—which left the mystery blackmailer.
To solve the puzzle, Cody needed the key and whatever was in the box at the bank.
Olivier’s warning whispered in his ear. Cody was sure it wasn’t an idle threat. Yet Benitez had been scared when he saw Cody. It was amusing now that he was safe in his hotel room—and it also pointed to Benitez’s guilt.
Cody shut the laptop. He wasn’t going home until he knew who had killed his brother and why. Obviously the police bought into the suicide, but if there was more evidence, or even motive, maybe they’d look into it again.
Someone should be held accountable for Connor’s death.
His lips twisted into a smile. That was why Connor had left him the envelope. He knew Cody would be unable to let a mystery go unsolved.
He needed to see Lily and ask her if she knew anything about the box or if there was a key lying around. And he should speak with his mother and siblings, rebuild the bridges he burned when he left. Maybe something good could come out of Connor’s death.
His father would think he needed money. It was always about money with his father. Cody was sure he still resented the way Cody had left to lead his own life.
He texted Lily and asked to meet her at the cemetery the next day. That way it could appear accidental. In the meantime he’d check out a little more of the Anders family history. There must be a clue there, given that Connor had included that old article.
What Cody really wanted to do was look up Olivier and find out exactly who he was and what he did for Benitez, but he didn’t even know where to start.
OLIVIER WATCHED the two cars pull into the horseshoe driveway of Connor Anders’s two-story house. His day was about to get interesting.
Men got out of the cars, four in total and all of them in suits. It wasn’t a friendly visit, and he could take a guess that they weren’t cops reopening the investigation. For a start, one of them hammered on the door, waited a few seconds, and then opened it himself. He had keys.
Lily was home, but she clearly didn’t want to open the door… or hadn’t heard them arrive. Maybe she was gardening or whatever people with big houses did when they were home.
He sat up a little straighter, less concerned about being seen and more concerned about Lily. Connor had wanted her safe, and while it wasn’t his job to do that, it was his job to watch her and keep her alive until Benitez made up his mind.
Olivier texted Benitez to ask if they were his men, but he doubted it.
By the time his boss replied, two of the men had come out, each loaded down with office equipment. Lily stalked after them, clearly furious.
It was then that Anders got out of one of the cars. Whatever he said to her didn’t calm her down. Instead she went inside and slammed the door, which was immediately reopened by the other two men. One carried a laptop, and the other had various other items.
Anders looked worried.
And Olivier had been sitting there for too long. He started the car and pulled away. In his rearview mirror, he saw Anders watching him and noting the license plate, no doubt. It was one of Benitez’s fleet that was kept for occasions like this. Olivier changed the car every few days so no one got too familiar with the vehicle.
But Anders knew he was being watched, even if he didn’t know who by.
Olivier pulled into the driveway of an empty house around the corner.
For several minutes he sat with his phone in his hand. He didn’t know what to say to his boss, but he had to say something. Did Lily know something she shouldn’t?
What had started out as a pretty typical job—he’d thought he was taking out a dodgy accountant with equally dodgy morals—had twisted and turned. If he wasn’t careful, it was the kind of job that could bite him in the ass.
Anders and Benitez both acted as though they were worried. Was Connor really that important? If Anders and Benitez were close or had mutual interests then a concern for one could be a problem for both—which could become his problem. If Benitez went down, he’d throw his people under the bus to make it slow down.
Olivier would hit the asphalt hard and never get up. Somehow he needed to befriend Lily and find out what she knew. Perhaps he could play the part of a concerned colleague and mention missing files? But Benitez had warned him to keep his distance.
Trouble was, he would get hit by the fallout no matter where he stood.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE CEMETERY was just as gloomy as it had been a couple of days earlier. Cody missed the Vegas sunshine. He could feel himself getting paler, grayer, colder. He glanced at the family tombstones and shivered. Then he took a step to the left to avoid the bit of dirt that would be reserved for him—unless Dad decreed he was no longer worthy. He looked at the damp ground and then at the overcast sky. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than spending eternity buried there, with people who actually didn’t want to have him around. He’d rather be cremated and scattered in the desert. Had anyone asked Connor what he wanted?
Had Connor ever thought about it, or was death something that happened to other people? His brother had a will, so he must’ve made plans. Those plans apparently meant being buried here. Or maybe he agreed to it to keep their father happy. Cody sighed. He’d never know.
He checked his watch. Lily was twenty minutes late. If she didn’t get there soon, he would have to go. It was weird to hang out in a cemetery, and while he liked to think he didn’t get the creeps or believe in ghosts, there was something about being there, in a sea of tombstones, knowing that centuries of bodies and bones were beneath his feet…. It was unnerving, even in broad daylight. Five more minutes.
He was about to turn and leave when he saw her. She didn’t greet him as she added her flowers to t
he grave.
There were so many flowers. Cody had added some to the pile. He hadn’t known what kind to get, and the bright blue petals seemed out of place. Too cheap and gaudy. He doubted Connor would care about the flowers that adorned his grave.
She tilted her head to take in the display. “How long until people stop bringing flowers?”
Cody had no idea. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. This might be my last bouquet. My last chance to say goodbye.”
That was when his voice caught and a void opened up in his chest and threatened to crumple his ribs and cause his body to fold in on itself under the pressure. His brother was gone. This was not a prank or a game or a trick to get him to come home. There had been no goodbye. That chance was stolen from him, along with the opportunity to rebuild the bridges they had burned.
They thought they had time.
Cody closed his eyes. He wouldn’t fall apart. He had to keep it together, since he’d called this meeting. He swallowed hard and swiped at his eyes. The cold was making them water. Goddamn.
His brother was smart and successful. He should be alive. It was Cody everyone expected to wind up dead in a gutter. His mother had written him a couple of letters detailing her concern for him and warning him about HIV and drugs and anything else she could think of.
He sniffed, and Lily pulled a tissue out of her handbag and handed it to him without a word. He should be comforting her. “I’m sorry.”
“I think I’m out of tears. Now it just aches.” She stared straight ahead. “When I look at you, I get a spark of hope, and then it dies just as fast.”
He wanted to apologize again, but didn’t. “I didn’t think you were going to come.”
She worried at her lip with her teeth. “I nearly didn’t. Your father was at our—my—house this morning.”
“To do what?” It wasn’t like his father to make house calls to see how people were.
