1
Dirk
“I have a bad feeling about this.” My older brother watches me, hands on his hips.
Standing in front of the half-renovated warehouse I call home, all my belongings fitting neatly in a large duffel bag, I’ve never felt so unmoored.
“Who are you, Han Solo?” I drop the bag in the back of my Jeep beside a smaller case.
“Sure, if that’s the analogy where you’re leaving the field in the middle of a battle.”
“That would make me Han Solo.” I exhale a bitter laugh, turning to face him and pulling a ball cap over my messy hair. “There’s no battle, Hutch. It’s been four years. The case is closed. Hell, even Hugh says it’s over.”
“You know we can’t trust what Hugh says,” he growls, refusing to let it go.
Hutch is an intimidating guy—a former Marine with too many muscles and the attitude to match. We’re three years apart in age, but he’s always had my back.
It was easy to say yes to joining his private investigation firm eight years ago. He’s the muscle, and Oskar Lourde, or Scar as we call him, is Hutch’s former military guide, scary as hell and an expert tracker. I’m the tech guy, tracking messages across the dark web, hacking into street cams and security networks to follow suspects throughout the city, often throughout the night. My hours are insane, but I’ve never been a nine-to-five guy.
All that changed after our last case.
“I won’t argue with you, but he paid his bill. We have no reason to keep pursuing it, whatever it would be now.”
Hugh van Hamilton is our richest client, and he has a bad habit of withholding vital information from the team he’s supposed to trust, a.k.a., us. When he hired us to protect his nieces, we discovered their safety was only the tip of the iceberg.
We spent the next year tracking down blackmailers, exposing a money laundering ring, dodging a Russian oligarch, and escaping a murder charge that almost sent Scar away for life (in a Russian prison, no less).
I won’t lie—it was fun. The challenge, the excitement, the cat-and-mouse game… we don’t get a lot of that in our tiny town, and now that it’s done, I’ve emerged from my tech-cave to discover I’m the only one waking up alone every morning.
“We have plenty of reasons to keep going.” Hutch shakes his head. “Their network is still in place. It’s only a matter of time before a new leader emerges, and it’ll probably be the guy who murdered Simon Petrovich.”
“Simon was the head. We cut off the head, and the body died.”
“We didn’t cut off the head, and whoever did cut it off is going to come back.”
That makes me laugh, and I football-charge him with my shoulder. “This isn’t a horror film. They’re not coming back.”
He easily blocks me, pulling me in for a brief hug. “Watch yourself. I don’t want to have to kick your ass again.”
“Like you ever kicked my ass.”
“Only because it would’ve broken Mom’s heart. You were her favorite son.”
“Whatever.” If that’s true, it’s because I acted like a son.
Hutch was born to play the dad role, unlike our real dad, who checked out when we were only kids. Our mom leaned on my brother for everything, all the way until she died.
Shaking away that dark memory, I grip his shoulder. “I haven’t seen any rumors of a resurgence on any of the chat boards. It’s time to let it go. You’re married, Scar has a baby on the way… ”
My voice trails off as I consider our broody Viking of a partner settled with a wife and baby. Hana’s pregnancy was the final straw that made me realize I had to make a change.
“It’s time for me to get on with my life.” Stepping back, I straighten my jacket, ready to get on the road.
“When we started the firm, we said we’d be partners til the end.”
“I’m still your partner.” I push back on the guilt his words trigger, icy tendrils creeping across my chest. “But I’ve been talking about doing this for years. You thought it was a good idea at one point.”
“When you wanted to teach one class at the community college in town. Now you’re moving to Miranda Bay and actually joining the faculty at Thornton.” He glances at my belongings crammed in the back of my vehicle, sounding for all it’s worth like a parent saying goodbye to his only child. “This is completely different.”
“I’m an hour down the road. I can keep up with anything that pops up, and if I need to come back, it’s an easy drive.”
“So stay in Hamiltown and commute the days you teach. You could keep your office hours here instead of breaking up the team.”
“I’m a faculty member. I don’t want to half-ass it. I want to be active in the department. This is the right choice for me, Hutch. I’ve spent too many nights chasing bad guys. It’s time for me to develop human habits, before I wake up at sixty and realize I’m alone.”
“Ah, fuck that. You’re nowhere near sixty.”
“Maybe not, but the last four years went by faster than I like.”
My brother runs a hand over his dark scruff. He’s quiet, which means he’s thinking. Hutch is stubborn, but he’s not inflexible.
Finally, he relents. “Just don’t get too comfortable around all those kids running around in wool blazers with their scarves flying over their shoulders.”
“It’s not Hogwarts,” I chuckle, gesturing to the warehouse looming behind us. “Anyway, I’ve still got to finish this dump. You think I’d let all my hard work go to waste?”
I bought the abandoned garment factory on the edge of town when I graduated from Columbia, and I’ve been slowly renovating it, turning it into an open-floor-plan loft ever since. So far, I’ve got the upper level completely livable. That just leaves the rest.
Hutch squints up at the massive structure. “You should hire a contractor to finish it while you’re gone. We have the money.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” It’s slow going, but I enjoy working with my hands. It’s a nice balance to being in front of a screen.
“How long is this teaching thing going to last?”
I slide my backpack off my shoulder as we climb into my Jeep. I’ll drive him back to our office in town before I hit the road. “I’m an adjunct professor, so for now it’s only a semester-to-semester gig. If they don’t like me, it could be a one and done.”
“They’ll like you.”
We drive for a few minutes in silence, and it bothers me that he could be angry at my decision. “I need to do this, Hutch.”
He blinks over at me, and the tension in his jaw relaxes. “I know.”
A few more minutes of silence, and we’re entering town. I parallel park on Main Street in front of our glass door, which reads Winston and Lourde in gold lettering. “You take care of yourself and Blake. Let me know when you’ve got a baby on the way.”
“Not sure Blake’s ready for motherhood.” A sly grin curls his lips, and my eyes narrow.
“I’m not sure if that look means you’re wanting to change her mind or you’re still enjoying being on your honeymoon.”