Page 40 of Distress Signal
“Wanna check on her before we leave?”
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head, swiping my wallet and keys off the sideboard by the door and stuffing them into my pockets. “She’ll be fine.”
Still, I shot her a text.
ME
House is open if you need anything that’s not over there.
ARIA
Love you.
ME
Love you too, Ari.
I grinned. I’d take “love you” over “thank you” any day.
“What’d she say?” West asked as we moved through the house in the direction of the door to the attached garage.
“That she loves me and I’m her favorite brother.”
West snorted. “Bullshit.”
“Okay, only half true. I’ll let you guess which half.”
“You’re annoying.”
“Get moving, baby bro.”
“Don’t call me that,” I mimicked as he said it.
With a laugh, he shoved me hard as we made our way to the truck.
On a Tuesday, the dirt-packed parking lot in front of the local bar was nearly empty. Tourist season wouldn’t kick up for another three weeks or so. The rest of Dusk Valley’s residents were home, enjoying some R&R, likely preparing for bed.
Trey was already there, climbing out of his SUV when West and I parked. We walked in together, pausing right inside the door to allow our eyes to adjust to the dimness. Four sets of eyes turned in our direction when the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind us.
Unsurprisingly, three men who were permanent fixtures in this place were seated side-by-side-by-side at the far end of the bar. Benny, the owner, stood on the bar’s other side, elbows leaned on the counter as he chatted with them.
“Well, well, well,” he said, moving to our end and placingnapkins on the bar top in front of us as we took seats. “The brothers Lawless. You want IDs?”
We all murmured affirmation, and he quickly poured our beers.
“Normally don’t see you guys here on weeknights,” Benny mused. “I assume there’s a reason?”
Cutting right to the chase, Trey said, “I need your security footage.”
“I heard about that girl that went missing. Shame shit like that keeps happening in this town.”
“Shame shit like that keeps happening right outsideyourbar,” I growled. “First Aspen, now this woman?”
“Tell me, Benny,” Trey said almost conversationally, “am I going to find anything worthwhile on those exterior cameras I installed, or are they going to be as useless as they were when Aspen was taken?”
Benny, who was younger than us and had taken over the bar when his father passed last fall, didn’t particularly like me or my brothers. But he put up with us for two reasons.
First, my sister was an amazing fucking singer and brought in huge crowds every time she performed here. Fucking with us meant Aria taking her talents elsewhere, which wasn’t something his business could afford.
