Chapter 25

The music got louder by the hour. More people arrived, filling the booths and spilling out onto the dance floor, fueling Liam’s irritation.

“One more,” he called to the bartender, who he’d noticed was an attractive young lady.

She smiled at him, poured his drink, and twirled her long blond hair as she said, “Haven’t seen you around. Are you new to town?” She grinned while her gaze raked over his left hand in search of a wedding ring. Liam looked up at her, his eyes still watering on occasion after the pepper spray incident almost a day ago. Man the stuff was potent.

“No,” he stated simply.

She stepped closer to the counter. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”

Liam gave a weak smile. “I’m fine, thanks. Now how about that drink?” He looked to the glass she had yet to hand over, the lights of the bar sparkled in the golden whisky as it swirled around the ice.

Her red lips pulled into a thin line before she said with a clearly bruised ego, “Yes, of course.” She bent down over the bar as she slid his drink over, her cleavage exposed.

As Liam snatched up the drink he rolled his eyes at the girl, who was almost young enough to be his daughter if he and his ex-wife had ever agreed on having kids. He opened his mouth to speak, wanting to tell her she deserved more than this place, when his phone rang, vibrating wildly on the wooden surface of the bar counter beside him. Feeling a bit hazy and numb from the drinks, Liam reached over and answered the call he was usually so determined to ignore.

“Well, look at that,” he said, his tone clipped with bitterness. Before taking a big swig of his drink he added. “You still know my number.” His eyes flicked to the bartender, who stood waiting for a tip. He waved her away and spun on his seat to face the dance floor.

“It’s only been a few weeks, Liam. Get a grip. I need to see you immediately.” His brother’s voice matched the resentment he felt.

Liam swallowed down another stiff sip.

“What is it this time? You call me to tell me how pathetic my life is? Rub it in my face that Natalie left me because I’m a drunk and my father is a murderer? Then add salt to the wound by telling me The Secret Service was right to fire me because I don’t serve justice like you?”

“I’m sure you’ve beaten yourself up enough.” His brother’s tone was surprisingly gentle, and Liam had to take a moment to wonder what angle his brother was playing this time.

“Liam?”

“I’m here.” He took another sip of his drink, his eyes roaming over the young men and woman gyrating to the pulsating beat. “You can find me at our old spot, where we used to come with our father. You know? The one you put in jail.”

“It’s dad I need to see you about. I’m on my way.” He ignored his brother’s bitter rant and ended the call.

Liam gave the phone a sharp disapproving look, and shook his head, a little surprised at the conversation. He placed his phone back into his pocket with a sigh. Taking one last gulp of his whiskey, he stared at the unfamiliar crowd. The revamped dance floor, fancy sparkling chandeliers, and polished wood floors that complimented the sleek white tables and couches, had at some point during his downward spiral replaced the Beach Bar.

The Beach Bar had been their family favorite for as long as he could remember, famous for the pizzas and cold fresh imported beer. Shoving the memories away, he noticed a regular waiter from back in the day come in with a group of his buddies. Their eyes met across the room, and Liam cringed as the man changed direction and headed his way.

“Hey, brother bear!” The man’s voice called out over the crowd as he started for him.

He felt a gentle slap on his shoulder as he spun back around to face the bar. “Hey,” his voice right behind him. “I saw the news.”

Liam stared at their reflections in the mirror behind the bar. “Yeah,” he said softly, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Many people watch the news.”

“Man!” The guy pulled a barstool closer.

Liam’s shoulders sank, giving the hipster a sideways glance. The guy called the bartender over and leaned in to speak to Liam.

“I know we, well, had our moments.”

Liam heard himself snicker at that, recalling the massive fight that landed him and his brother in jail for a night.

“But I liked your old man, he was good people.”

“Yeah he is.”

The young man stared at Liam. “I’m not judging or anything…”

“Sounds like you are.” Liam swirled the last drips of the remaining whisky in the glass. As much as he didn’t like the poser, he really could use the conversation, so he kind of turned his way.

The guy smiled at him. “He was a minister, right?”

Liam nodded. “You could say that.”

The guy frowned. “The news said he used to go and pray for the souls of the men on death row.”

Liam shrugged. “If the news said so.”

They both sat in silence for a while. The young man leaned closer, his elbow bumping Liam’s arm. “I’d like to believe everyone gets a second chance, or perhaps life is all about mistakes and forgiveness. I’ve made many mistakes. Tricked many people…” he was saying.

“You don’t say.” Liam rolled his eyes. “Kind of like what you did to our family when you tried to steal our wallets that night?”

“Look man, I got a second… third chance in life, and I’m all about the road to redemption. I don’t think…” He leaned in and whispered, “I can help your father get out of jail.”

Liam turned to look at him hard. “He’s not innocent. He did what he’s accused of doing.”

The young man took a big swig of his drink the second the bartender put it down and stood, sliding a hundred-dollar bill and a business card toward Liam.

“My mother gets killers and rapists off.” His lips drew into a tight line causing a deep furrow that marred his otherwise sweet baby face. “Good luck man,” he said, walking away.

Liam stared at the money and the card, then back at the young man wearing the trendy green and white floral shirt. He shook his head, mumbling to himself. Taking up the card, he got a better understanding of why the young man seemed so damaged. Couldn’t be easy being the son of a high-powered attorney whose job in life was to get criminals off. He could relate. But where he had a stepmom who got killers off, he also had a dad who served the Lord. Just then, he caught sight of his brother in the mirror before him and folded his arms over the card.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” his brother said, taking up the empty seat next to him.

“Hello, Aaron.”

He never so much as looked at his brother as he sat down beside him, his light, slightly curly hair and blue eyes catching the attention of a table of young girls nearby. His well-defined forearms rested on the table between them. His brother was the total opposite of him. Even though they both worked in the same field, that was as far as the similarities went. Liam was all dark skin and hair, with deep brown eyes, where his brother was fair. He was tall and bulky where Aaron was lean and of average height. And Liam had always had to try so much harder to get attention. Aaron seemed to have it easy.

“I gather you’ve seen the news.” Aaron said sternly.

Liam took a swig of his drink, mumbling into the glass. “Seems to be the ice-breaker sentence of the day.”

Liam gave him a sideways glance, intrigued. He stared down at his empty glass, feeling the light swirl of the alcohol in his head. “What do you want?”

“I had an interesting chat with dad.”

At that, Liam straightened. “You went to go see him and didn’t think of taking me with you?” His nostrils flared. “But of course, dad wouldn’t want to see his wash-out son.”

“I’m not here to fight, Liam. I need you to listen.”

Liam rolled his eyes.

“He told me something interesting.”

Liam stared. “And you’re sharing this with me? Why?”

Aaron’s light blue eyes searched his brother’s. “I need your help.”

Liam turned in his seat. In as long as he could remember, his brother had never asked him for help. This was going to be interesting.

“I went to go see dad because dad knew Valmer’s heart. I suspect, and dad agrees, that the new Devil’s Breath killer has only just begun. He’s taking over where his apprentice failed.”

“Apprentice?” Liam grabbed the glass from the waitress as she was about to hand it to Aaron. “You’re saying there were two killers?” he asked, downing the drink.

Aaron nodded. “It’s a theory we’re working with.”

“What do you need me for? You certainly didn’t need me when you were making the decision not to help our dad?”

“He didn’t want help.”

Liam narrowed his eyes on his brother. “And the obedient son listened.” He cheered him with the tilt of drink.

Aaron stared at him blankly.

“You killed us, Aaron,” Liam said, sadly.

A soft growl came from Aaron’s throat.

“All we had was each other,” Liam continued. “It was us three against the world. Two cops and a priest to serve and protect. Mind, body, and soul…”

“I didn’t come here to fight.”

Liam put the whisky back on the counter. “So you keep saying.”

“I need you to take a look at the crime scene photos, maybe you can pick up on something we missed.”

Eyebrow raised, Liam stared at his brother. “Such as?”

Well, since you worked for the Secret Service, you have insights we might be able to use.”

“Don’t be stupid…”

“Just listen. I found that girl the other night, it was meant to be a clean get in, gather information, get out kind of mission; but our intel was sabotaged. Satellite images falsified—someone is covering what seemed like a simple sex trafficking ring. And it has ties to Devil’s Breath killings.”

This surprised Liam, and for the first time, he really looked at his brother. His blue eyes seemed lost, as if he was teetering on the edge of a revelation but was missing one more crucial piece of a puzzle. He noticed the dark crescents under his brother’s eyes. He was looking old and drained of his usual arrogance.

“What happened?” he asked Aaron Aaron shifted, feeling uneasy but figuring the quicker he faced it, the quicker the results. “My partner is missing.” Aaron swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Her friend is dead because of me. I wanted so badly to find out what happened to.…” Aaron stared at his hands unable to finish.

“Heather.” Liam finished for him.

Aaron raked a hand though his hair. “I wasn’t thinking,” he continued. “I was the one who found her friend’s body, and I’m responsible for losing Makayla. I should have known when I saw the intel that it wasn’t a hundred percent. I just wanted to catch the guys who stole Heather.

Liam felt instantly sober. “Tell me how I can help?”

And just like that, the impossible-to—fix-rift between the two brothers began to mend.

Liam stared at Aaron; Aaron narrowed his eyes on his. “You know something?”

“Aaron, I have something.” Liam wasn’t quite sure how to put it, so he showed him, taking out his cell phone, and showing the images he took of Willow’s sketches.

“What am I looking at?”

“The drawings of a girl who recently had a heart transplant.”

The look of confusion deepened on Aaron’s face, not sure what his brother was trying to say.

“I have a hunch…” he showed his brother more of the images he took of the sketches. “Where is Valmer’s body?”

Aaron shrugged.

The images on the phone looked so much like the tattoo across Valmer’s chest. There was a sketch he recognized but he was struggling to digest the idea on offer. One sketch looked very similar to the room Lorel Palmer was killed in, even down to her blue dress, left on old gurney near the incineration shoot.

“Where did you get these, Liam?” Aaron scrolled through the pictures.

“Some of these sketches look like Valmer’s tattoo right, only, it has been added on to.”

Aaron scrolled back, “Like what it would look like if he had lived, if he killed and devoured more souls…” Liam added.

Aaron pulled a face, shaking his head. His mind didn’t work on weird; he was FBI—it was fact not fiction.

“Your odd conspiracies…” he began, but something inside of Aaron had changed recently. Perhaps his desperation to find a link, or the next lead in the quest to find his partner was the reason he was willing to go there with Liam. He looked his brother straight in the dark gleam of his eyes, raked a hand though his hair, before taking the leap. “Okay, let’s run with this crazy idea.” He gave an unsure smile.

“If I’m right, Valmer’s body is missing a heart.” Liam said and added, “These girls, the sisters involved in this… one of them had her room bugged. And the girl who drew these sketches, I’m beginning to think might be the recipient of Valmer’s heart.”

“Why would you say that?”

“How else explain these sketches, it’s like the artist is linked to the killer—intimately.”

Aaron snorted. “Anyone could get hold of crime scene photos these days. Then he thought back, shaking his head. “The blue dress, it was removed by someone on the team before phots were taken.

“You told me they never found the dress right?”

Aaron stood. “We need to talk to these girls.”