Page 15 of Forbidden Need

“Wait, what?” she asked, her attention pinged between them. “No! We can’t.”

“They have to know we’re serious. Right? We show up, we show them we’re not afraid.”

“Them who?”

“The McDades,” Tulip said, dropping into the seat next to hers. “There’s a reason we were singled out to be escorted off the property.”

“A reason? What reason?”

“You tell me.” Tulip slid deeper into her chair. “We were escorted inside, past the line of people, the VIP way. And that bartender knew your drink.”

“I used to drink there a lot.”

“Yeah, and then they kicked us out. Either you pissed someone off or gave them a secret signal.”

“A secret…” Her focus went to Steeple. “This is not serious; she is not serious.”

The door opened again. This time as she began to turn something beyond the bullpen stopped her attention dead. Damn Steeple for his half-glass walls. Lach…

“I said no interruptions,” Steeple said to whoever had come in.

“This one you have to take. Sersha has to take.”

Colleagues stood gawping at the spectacle that included her father and a phalanx of cops. Lach. She fixated on her sibling there between the bullpen and the reception desk.

Her sinuses tingled as a chill swept around her. They were too solemn. Too serious. Something had happened and there was only one person missing from that squad. The eldest McLeod. Her grandfather.

Rising, she didn’t think about anyone but her brother. What had happened? People talked, watched, whispered. Her father’s voice did reach her ears before she got to them, but it was Lachlan she walked right up on.

“Heart attack?” she asked, resenting the heat building in her eyes.

“Why don’t you come with us?” someone else said.

Lachlan’s hand drifted down her cheek. “Murder.”

A short, sharp inhale stalled her breathing. How had she known this wasn’t…? The next time she sucked in air, a long yelp came with it. Her hand flew to her mouth, but Lachlan hooked the back of her head and pulled her against his chest, giving her cover for the tears and the terror.

Murder.

How could…? Her grandfather was an alderman, respected, protected… Though apparently not that well. Murder. She couldn’t process. Her family dwindled; the three men were the only blood left in her life. Two. Now there were only two.

SEVEN

THE REST OF THE DAY was a blur. Words were said. Condolences given. Somehow, she got back to her apartment with Lachlan, her father, and members of his faceless entourage.

“When did you last speak with him?”

Her hands were wrapped around a hot cup. Coffee? Maybe. She couldn’t focus.

“Leave her alone,” her father sniped. “She’s in shock.”

“We need her statement.”

“What happened?” Discarding the cup on the breakfast bar, she pushed through the two men crowding her to get to her brother at the dining table. “Lach, what happened to him?”

Other men, strangers, lay things out on the surface, papers and pictures.

“We don’t know yet,” Lach said. “That’s what we’re going to figure out.”

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