Chapter Three

Dylan

Sure enough, Uncle Paddy was at Malloy’s, the little hometown, hole in the wall bar Jimmy won in a poker game off of one of our cousins, Frankie. Kid had too much money and not enough sense.

Outside the bar, a cop was taking down the tape blocking off the entrance, and the patch of sidewalk in front of the darkened bar. The front window was shattered, shards of glass laying all over the ground like glitter. The door was riddled with bullet holes and divots. All from the inside. I’d gathered the bare bones of the events from the news report and file from my CIA buddy. In the early morning hours, someone had called the cops when the neighbors heard gunshots. By the time they got to the bar, four men were dead. Jimmy, Tommy, Petey, one of Jimmy’s bartenders, and a customer. No witnesses. At least, none willing to talk.

I paused on the sidewalk, not ready to go inside. I cast a glance up at the Malloy’s sign decorated with the Malloy family crest hanging from a rod above the door.

A fresh wave of emotion swelled and threatened to drag me under. I drew in a quick breath and held onto it. When I exhaled, a soft question followed. “Damn, brother, what did you get yourself into?”

“Dylan!”

I turned at the sound of my name and found Uncle Paddy rushing across the street. He didn’t pump the brakes and slammed into me at full speed. He wrapped both arms around me and squeezed tight. He was forty years my senior, but retained the strength from his own Navy days. Hell, he could probably still go toe to toe with any man in my unit and have fairly decent odds.

“My boy,” he said, his voice thick. “Ya don’t know how good it is to see ya.”

“You too, Uncle Paddy.”

We broke apart and turned to look at the front of the bar. “Have you been inside?” I asked him.

He gave a quick nod. “They’ll be turning things over to us soon enough. They said there wasn’t much to collect in the way of evidence.”

I pocketed my hands. “Security cameras in this place?”

Paddy frowned. “Nothing they can use.”

“What was he doing in there, playing pool at four in the morning?” I shook my head. “It doesn’t make sense. Was he getting into trouble?”

“Aye. My boy,” Paddy said with a sigh. He clapped me on the back. “You and I will have a long talk. But first, we need to get things settled here.”

I didn’t argue as I followed him into the bar. I’d seen the aftermath of battle more times than I could possibly count, but there was something about the site of my own flesh and blood’s death that gave the scene in front of me the power to swallow me whole. The blood itself had been cleared away, but the stains remained behind, marking the places the victims fell. A pool table was splattered with it. The wall behind it. All obviously indicating where two had fallen. I didn’t ask which one belonged to Jimmy. I didn’t want to know. Not yet. Chairs were overturned. Tables riddled with bullet holes.

“Looks like something outta the damn wild west,” I said to Paddy.

An officer met us halfway across the room and gave us both a solemn look. “We’re done here. Do you need the name of a biohazard service to do the rest of the cleanup?”

Paddy shook his head. “We’ll manage.”

The cop gave us a swift nod and headed for the front door. Another pair of officers followed and the only people left were a small crew boarding up the front window. Paddy spun slowly, taking it all in.

“Did you see it before . . .” I paused and drew in a shaky breath. “Before they took them away?”

Paddy’s gaze drifted to one of the bloodstains on the floor, a ring only a few shades darker than the thin carpet. I didn’t have to ask. My guts coiled and twisted together, and for a moment I thought I might throw up right there in the middle of the room. I swallowed hard a few times and managed to get myself back under control.

“Where do we start?” I asked him.

Paddy pivoted on his heel. “Tomorrow, lad. We’ll start tomorrow. You go be with your parents’ tonight. They need you more than this place.”

I nodded but couldn’t get my feet moving in the right direction. “I think I need just a minute. If you don’t mind?”

“Of course, these guys need a few more minutes on the window. I’ll see ya back at your parents’ house. After, I’ll give ya a decent trim.” He scowled at my military buzz cut, and I grinned. Paddy was a barber and took a personal interest in our haircuts. He handed me a set of keys and gave me another big hug then turned and left the bar. “You can lock up.”

Only when I was alone did the damn finally break. I’d nearly lost it completely when Emma clung to me, but I’d held onto a shred of control. It was ripped away as soon as the window crew closed the door behind them. I grabbed a battered chair and slammed it against the opposite wall, hurling it so hard it shattered into a dozen pieces. Sobs twisted into animalistic sounds as I lunged for the next piece of busted furniture and tore it to shreds with my bare hands. I kicked a table over, slammed glasses and plates at the wall, and upended half a dozen bar stools before all the energy and rage drained away, and I crumpled to the floor beside the bloodstain where my baby brother had taken his last breath.

“Fuck, Jimmy, how the hell did it end like this?” I bellowed. “You were supposed to be safe. I was the idiot charging into war. Putting myself in danger. You were here. You were safe. What the fuck happened?”

I shook violently. None of it made sense. Sitting among the rubble, I couldn’t put it together.

My fingers dug into my scalp and I rocked forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. It was fucked up. I had no idea how I was ever supposed to get my head around the situation. A few years ago, I’d left Jimmy right here in the bar after he’d thrown a party in my honor. It wasn’t my scene, but he’d insisted. There’d been hot women, free-flowing booze, loud music, and we didn’t stop until two in the morning. I’d never had such a shitty hangover in my life.

I’d been home on leave twice in the early days, but had no idea the last time was when I’d ever see my brother alive.

The memory made me ache all over again, and more tears broke loose.

Something clattered in the kitchen, and I jolted. I pushed up from the floor and hurried to identify the source of the noise. No one was supposed to be here. The cops were all gone. Paddy should be the only other person who had keys. I pushed through the door just in time to see a sliver of pink disappearing in the stairwell.

“Shit,” I breathed, raking my hands back over my head. I’d forgotten about the apartment over the back of the bar. The tenants in the regular apartments entered through the front doors at the top of the stoop, just like all the other apartment buildings on the street. Jimmy lived in an out of the way place accessible by a staircase behind the bar. I hurried forward and climbed the stairs. I reached a small landing with a silk potted plant and a door. I knocked and waited.

“Who is it?” a voice called from the other side.

“It’s Dylan. Jimmy’s brother.”

The locks on the door clicked, and a delicate face greeted me.

“Tara, right?”

She nodded and pulled the door open wider. “I’ve seen your pictures.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with a ball of tissue in her hand.

“Likewise.”

After another moment of consideration, she opened the door wider and waved her arm. “You can come in, if you want.”

I didn’t want to. I was having a hard enough time wrapping my own emotions into a tight enough ball I could stash away. Taking on someone else’s pain wasn’t a load I wanted to carry. But I felt bad. I’d probably scared the shit out of her, tearing everything up downstairs.

The apartment was small but well organized from the look of it. The furniture wasn’t the same battered and worn frat house cast offs I remembered from my last visit. A nice suede loveseat sat behind a wooden coffee table that had intricate scrollwork on the legs. It looked expensive. The kitchen and dining room were open to the living room and also looked like improvements had been made. The kitchen cabinets were white, the countertops quartz, the dining room had been painted and instead of a card table with folding chairs, a proper, four-person dining set was arranged with a styled centerpiece.

My eyes roved through the room and then back to Tara. She was wrapped in a silk robe—the flash of pink I’d caught going up the stairs—and wore her dark hair up in a knot on the top of her head. Her eyes were red from crying. So was her nose. Other than that, she looked just as she had in the picture Jimmy had sent to me when they first started dating. She’d also been in a series of pictures from a cousin’s wedding that had been posted all over social media.

“Sorry about all the noise,” I started, slipping my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.”

Tara nodded and dabbed at her face. “It’s all right.”

“When did you and Jimmy move in together?” I asked, looking around the apartment again. Looking at her was too painful. I didn’t have anything to offer her, no comforting words or platitudes.

“A few months ago. We had some renovations done and then I moved in.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Last time I was here this place looked more like it was ready for an all-night beer pong tourney, not a dinner party.”

Tara laughed lightly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” I chuckled. A spark caught my eye as she ran her hands up and down her arms. “That’s quite a rock,” I said, glancing at the doorknob-sized ring on her finger. “Were you two . . .?”

Tara looked down at the ring and twisted it on her finger. “We hadn’t told anyone yet.”

“Damn. I’m really sorry, Tara.” I swallowed hard. “I know you made him very happy. If that helps.”

“It does.” She nodded and offered a weak smile. “I just wish I understood what happened. Why Jimmy? Who wanted to kill him?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea, but I plan on finding out. And believe me...when I do, whoever it is, is going to wish they’d had the decency to put a bullet in their own head after what they did.”

Tara’s eyes went wide, and I winced at my own thoughtlessness. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

She held up a hand. “No need. I hope you do.”

An awkward silence stretched between us for a long moment. Tara hitched a thumb over her shoulder, pointing toward the bedroom. “Listen, I was actually heading out. I’m going to be staying with my sister for a few days until things are...settled.”

“Right. Yeah.” I tracked back to the door. “Sorry about the noise. Please call if you need anything, all right?”

“Thank you. I will.”

After locking up the bar, I took a walk past Emma’s diner, not ready to go upstairs yet. I wondered if she might still be inside, but found the windows dark. A strange feeling shivered through me but I dismissed it and hurried back past her building and up the front steps to my parents’ apartment. I averted my eyes from Jimmy’s bar; I couldn’t look at it right now. My time back in Brighton was limited, and I had a very clear mission. I didn’t have time to go digging up the past.