Page 119 of Last Seen
“She’s disappeared. Her Jeep was dropped off in Nashville. But she wasn’t the one driving it.”
Noah struggles to sit up. “Who? Who drove it?”
“Catriona Handon.”
Noah goes limp, staring at the ceiling. “What have I done?”
Theo narrows his eyes at Noah. “What the hell is going on here, man? If it wasn’t Halley, who shot you? Was it Cat?”
“No. It was a dead man. My half brother, Ian.”
That’s the second person who’s used a dead man’s name. “Do you know a woman named Donnata Kade?”
Noah nods. “Used to live here. She’s disturbed. Dad let her stay because he was worried about her. You know what they say.”
“Keep your enemies close?”
Noah frowns. “No. Charity starts at home. But she became too volatile, and he had to ask her to leave.”
“Oh. Well, I met her, and she said some rather damning things about your brother, and your father, and your family. This town. All of it. Seemed pretty convinced you people are the devil incarnate.”
“Not me. But Ian, yes. Though I swear to you, I thought he was dead. He and my dad got into an altercation years ago, and Ian was killed. But apparently that wasn’t the truth. Apparently, my father let him go with the caveat that he never return. He unleashed hell into the world to save us. Our town. My family.”
“Your dad told you that?”
“He did. He thought that was the best way to protect us. My God, he was so naive. He always has been. Naive and idealistic and easily led.”
“Goodness. Those are not exactly the words you want to hear from your youngest son.”
Miles Brockton stands in the doorway.
Noah looks at the ceiling again. “Sorry, Dad. But it’s true.”
“Idealistic, definitely. Naive, maybe. But never confuse compliance with knowing which battles to fight, my boy.” He strides to Theo’s side, hand out. “Miles. You’re Halley’s husband.”
Noah flinches at this statement, but Theo squares his shoulders and shakes with a modicum of distaste, knowing his only chance here is to appear unthreatening, to make them think he’s really the bumbling idiot they believe him to be.
“Yes. You don’t have any idea where she is, do you?”
“I don’t, no. She certainly did a number on my boy here.”
“Dad. I told you. It was Ian.”
Miles moves to Noah’s side. Pats him hard on the shoulder, making the man wince. “Son. I’ve told you a hundred times. Ian is dead. You’re imagining things.”
“He’s not. He was in Brooke Cottage, he shot me, and he took Halley.”
Miles has Noah’s shoulder in a tight grip now.
“You’re mistaken. You’ve had a trauma. You need rest. Mr. Donovan—”
“Agent. Agent Donovan.”
A glint in Brockton’s eyes. “My apologies. Agent. We need to let my son rest. He’s been through a lot.”
“You’re not going to gaslight me any longer, Dad. This has gone too far.”
“Stop now, son. Agent Donovan, after you.”
