Page 88 of Wasted
Twenty-Five
“No, no, no!” Treese scooted to the farthest edge of the ottoman she sat on, looking like she would fall off as she interrupted Robert. “It’s gotta be the nephew.”
Cillian chuckled as he carried his soda can and a mug of tea to the chairs where he and Victoria were sitting together on the opposite side of the small living room. Treese sure got passionate about debating her brother.
“One at a time, Patricia.” Victoria raised her eyebrows at her youngest sister, then accepted the mug from Cillian as he sat on the chair beside her.
Robert grinned. “It’s okay, Vicki. If she wants to parade her false theory out in public, I won’t stop her.”
Treese stuck out her tongue at her brother.
“Oh, please.” Spring rolled her eyes as she wheeled into her living room and set a refilled bowl of tortilla chips on the coffee table that was surrounded by a white and blue patterned sofa, two armchairs, and the wooden chairs they’d pulled from her dining room, so everyone had a seat. “We do have some non-Westons here, so let’s try to act our age for once.” She aimed a pointed look at Robert and Treese.
“Oh, we are.” Robert’s tone stayed teasing as he answered her. “It’ll be years until we’re as old as you and Vicki.”
Hank guffawed as Treese and Robert laughed. Spring and Torin laughed, too, along with Cillian.
Victoria shook her head slowly back and forth, but the set of her mouth was soft, and fondness lit her eyes as she watched her siblings. “Treese, you were saying you believe Ryan might be the killer.”
“No might about it.” Treese uncrossed and then crossed her legs, once again wearing a tight, super-short skirt. Did she ever wear anything else? The rest of her family members were more comfortably dressed in jeans or even sweatpants, in Robert’s case. Though Victoria never dressed down that much, of course. She wore her usual dress pants and a green cardigan that highlighted the color of her eyes.
“I talked to the staff at the gym and some of the regulars there.” Treese extended her hand in a sweeping motion. “All of them said he has a terrible temper. Really combustible over the slightest things. And he’s been worse lately, they said. Since his uncle’s death.”
“You didn’t talk to him, did you?” Victoria’s tone held concern.
What an awesome big sister she was. She hadn’t even mentioned what Ryan had done to her that day, but she was all over the possibility that her little sister could’ve been hurt.
“Sure, I did.” Treese smirked. “And I can tell you he’s a total cheater. Definitely not faithful to his wife, and I wasn’t even trying.”
“My check on him showed he’s separated.” Torin emerged from the kitchen, carrying a glass of water that he handed to Spring. “They’re in the process of getting a divorce.”
Treese snorted. “Big surprise there.”
“What is surprising is he doesn’t have any assault charges, despite his temper. At least none that stuck. A few calls to the police, but no one would press charges in the end.”
“Do you think he paid them off?” Cillian aimed his question at Torin, then took a sip of soda.
“Possibly. Turns out he and his sister had trust funds from their uncle, set up for them when they were kids.”
“That’s right.” Victoria nodded. “I recall Thomas spoke about that once, saying he’d already given them far more money than they deserved. He also said they had depleted the funds, and that was their fault.”
“So Ryan is violent and desperate for more money.” Cillian crossed his arms over his chest, holding the soda in one hand. “Seems more than capable of having knocked off his uncle. And he doesn’t want us to find something, maybe the evidence that he killed Thomas.”
“What do you mean?” Robert angled his head toward Cillian from his seat on one end of the sofa across from Cillian and Victoria.
“He threatened Victoria today.” Cillian felt, rather than saw, Victoria swing her head toward him. Man, he wished they’d gotten the sofa before Robert and Hank took it. He would put his arm around her now, try to remind her through his touch that he was on her side. That she could trust him. But their chairs were too far away to make the move casual and natural. “He tried to rough her up.”
“What?” Hank jumped to his feet. “Vicki? Are you okay?” His blue eyes sharpened with the concern that shaped his features.
“Yes, Hank, I’m fine.” Her tone was calm and firm. “He did surprise me and told me he wouldn’t let me ‘do this.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “I’m not certain precisely what he meant. But he was extremely angry and intimidating.” She paused.
A tense silence filled the room as all her siblings stared at her.
“I’m thankful Cillian was there.” If she’d reached over and knocked him off his chair, she couldn’t have surprised him more. Had she just given him credit for protecting her in front of her whole family? Well, the part of her family that counted.
Amazement and pride ballooned in his chest, threatening to pop his ribs. Wow. Now he really wished they were sharing the sofa. Maybe he could subtly scoot his chair closer to hers.
“Thanks, man.” Hank gave Cillian a nod.
