“You okay?” Joe asked as we were driving back to the ranch.

“Yeah. I’m good. I just didn’t expect it to affect me quite so much.”

“I know. I felt the same way the first time I met Larry. It’s hard to believe he’s my uncle. He doesn’t look anything like any of us.”

“Well, just a half uncle,” I said.

“True. Still…” He sighed, watching the road. “Thanks for coming along.”

“I should have done it before now. I should have been there for Tal.” I shook my head. “My work is important to me. I live for the harvest and the winemaking season, but I put it ahead of my brother. I’m sorry, man.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Believe me,” Joe said.

I appreciated his sentiment, but I didn’t believe him for a minute. Right now, I felt like the lowest of the low.

“Hey,” he continued. “We’ll all appreciate it when we taste that amazing wine.”

“That wine won’t be ready for several years.” I sighed. “No, I’m feeling pretty fucking bad, Joe.”

“Don’t. Please.”

Please? That wasn’t like Joe.

He continued, “We’ve all been through enough, and it’s not over yet. Don’t invent reasons to feel bad, okay? We have enough real reasons.”

“True enough.” Though I got the feeling there was something Jonah wasn’t saying.

I’d been getting that feeling around my brothers since before we went to Jamaica. I’d shrugged it off as pre-wedding jitters, although they were both so head over heels in love with their wives that I had a hard time believing either of them were the least bit jittery.

We were quiet the rest of the way home. Joe asked if I wanted to come over for a drink, but I declined. I wanted to be alone.

Why? I wasn’t sure.

For some reason, I felt the need to think. About what? Again, I wasn’t sure. “Hey,” I said. “Do you have those yearbooks at your place?”

“No, they’re at Tal’s.”

“Okay.” No problem. I lived in Talon’s guest house. I’d walk over and borrow the yearbooks.

I wanted to get a good look at the future lawmakers.

One way or another, I was going to unravel the mystery of my father’s involvement with those men who’d tortured my brother…and who probably had wanted to torture me as well.

---

Armed with the yearbooks, I poured myself a glass of my aged cab and sat down in my leather recliner.

I hadn’t spent enough time in this chair lately, and God, it felt good. I flipped on the massager and closed my eyes.

And then shot them open.

Now wasn’t the time to relax. I didn’t want to associate combing through my father’s old yearbooks with my favorite chair. So I turned off the massager, got up, and sat at my bar where I could spread out the books.

First, I took a sip of my wine and let it linger on my tongue. The cab could use another year, but damn, it was good now too. Nice and dry with soft tannins and a blackberry finish.

But now wasn’t the time to pat myself on the back for making great wine, either.

I grabbed the book where my father was a junior. That was the only one that showed the future lawmakers club with all six of its members. Simpson and Mathias were seniors and had graduated after this book, and Wendy Madigan, a sophomore in this book, had moved after that year. Rodney Cates, Uncle Larry Wade, and my father were juniors.

I stared at my father’s photograph. It could have been my brother Joe staring back at me. The resemblance was uncanny. Jonah definitely favored our father the most of all of us. But Tal and I looked like him too, just a little less so. Not one of the three of us looked anything like our mother, other than our coloring. She was dark-haired and dark-eyed also. Marjorie had her face shape and nose, but none of us guys did.

Wait. Larry Wade had said I had her nose.

I touched my face. That wasn’t my mother’s nose. What the hell had he been thinking?

My nose was more like my brothers’ noses, although it was a little smaller. I had finer features than they had. It had bugged me when I was little. I didn’t like being a pretty boy. Now it didn’t bother me so much. In fact, it was kind of cool to be considered the best looking of the Steel brothers, since both Joe and Tal were great-looking in their own right.

Looking at Theodore Mathias made me cringe. This man had fathered Ruby. Other than the dark hair, she didn’t resemble him. He had a dark and Mediterranean look about him. Mathias was a Greek name, so that explained the look.

He was handsome. They all were. Tom Simpson looked exactly like his son, Bryce, had in high school, and while Larry Wade was graying and balding now, in high school he was good-looking and muscular. Rodney Cates was probably the least handsome of the lot, and even he looked good. Wendy Madigan was cheerleader-pretty with brown hair in the “big” style that was common back then. They hardly looked like the demons they’d turned out to be.

But my father wasn’t a demon.

He couldn’t be.

So why had he hung around these people? Why did he give them money? And what the hell did they do with it?

Future lawmakers? I scoffed. More like future lawbreakers.

I broke out in a chill.

Had I just stumbled onto something? Ice filled my veins. Was this what it felt like to have a premonition? Shit, I didn’t believe in that voodoo…but God, I sure felt like I’d come to some kind of correct conclusion.

Was the future lawmakers a deliberate misnomer?

Had my father broken the law?

No. Not possible. His integrity had been legendary.

But why had he swept Talon’s abduction under the rug, never allowing any of us to deal with the fallout?

The reason was out there.

And damn it, I was going to find it.