Chapter 8 - The Brother at the Dinner Table
Callum Kavanaugh arrived at his brother's estate wearing an expensive navy suit and a smile that never reached his eyes.
He carried a gift.
A white porcelain music box.
“For Brinley,” he told Sully.
Sully accepted it without smiling.
“She's resting.”
“She's always resting.”
Callum removed his gloves.
“Where's my brother?”
“In his office.”
“Of course.”
He walked through the hallway as though the house belonged to him.
In some ways, it nearly had.
For fifteen years, Callum had managed the legitimate side of Kavanaugh Holdings.
Shipping contracts.
Storage facilities.
Property management.
Technology investments.
Renick handled the old family network, much of which he had spent years moving away from criminal operations.
Callum handled the businesses that looked clean on paper.
The division had once made sense.
Now Renick wondered what he'd allowed to grow behind his back.
“Brother,” Callum said, entering the office.
Renick did not stand.
“Sit down.”
Callum glanced at Nathaniel beside the desk.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“No.”
“Then why does it feel like an interrogation?”
Renick watched him.
“How was Providence fourteen months ago?”
Callum's smile faltered.
“What?”
“The night Elise died.”
Silence.
Then Callum laughed.
“That's a strange question.”
“Answer it.”
Callum slowly sat.
“I was meeting investors.”
“Which investors?”
“You know who.”
“Tell me.”
Callum leaned back.
“Why are we doing this?”
“Because your car left my estate four minutes after my wife.”
Callum's expression went blank.
Renick placed a photograph on the desk.
The black sedan.
The gold bird sticker.
Callum looked down.
Then back up.
“That doesn't prove I was driving.”
“No.”
“Someone borrowed it.”
“Who?”
“I'd have to check.”
Renick nodded.
“Then check.”
Callum stood.
“Renick, I know you're upset about Brinley.”
“My daughter almost died.”
“And I'm grateful she survived.”
“You haven't asked how.”
Callum paused.
“Your staff said a boy caught her.”
“A seven-year-old boy.”
“Yes.”
Renick leaned forward.
“Someone loosened the railing.”
Callum's face did not change.
“That's terrible.”
“Someone disabled the cameras.”
“Then your security department has a problem.”
“Someone also threatened the boy.”
Callum looked toward Nathaniel.
“Sounds like you should be asking him questions.”
Nathaniel said nothing.
Callum adjusted his cuffs.
“Look, if you want my advice—”
“I don't.”
Callum's smile disappeared.
Renick stood.
“Stay away from Brinley until this is resolved.”
For a moment, neither brother moved.
Then Callum spoke softly.
“You're making a mistake.”
“Possibly.”
“You've been making a lot of them since Elise died.”
Renick's gaze hardened.
“Careful.”
Callum took one step closer.
“Grief has made you paranoid.”
“Grief has made me patient.”
Renick lowered his voice.
“You don't want to find out what happens when that patience ends.”
Callum stared at him.
Then turned and left.
Outside, he paused beside Sully.
“Where is Dr. Voss?”
“No longer employed here.”
Callum's expression sharpened.
“Who dismissed her?”
“Mr. Kavanaugh.”
Callum looked toward the staircase.
“Interesting.”
He walked away.
That night, Belle was making dinner when Renick called.
“I need to speak with you.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Not over the phone.”
Twenty minutes later, he arrived at the cottage.
Belle took one look at his face.
“It's your brother.”
Renick stopped.
“What do you know?”
“Brinley drew him.”
He stared.
“She said 'uncle.'”
Renick closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he did not move.
Then he asked for the drawing.
Belle retrieved it from a kitchen drawer.
Renick examined every line.
The road.
The cars.
The gold bird.
The figure with the red stripe.
“Did she tell you anything else?”
“No.”
“Did Micah question her?”
“Only once.”
Renick nodded.
Belle hesitated.
“There's something you should understand.”
He looked up.
“Brinley didn't seem confused.”
Renick said nothing.
“She seemed terrified.”
He studied the drawing again.
Then noticed a small shape Belle hadn't understood.
Beside the car, Brinley had drawn a square.
Inside it, a tiny white bird.
Renick recognized it.
A storage building.
A logo.
One of Callum's companies used a white bird as its trademark.
Harbor Finch Logistics.
His brother's largest shipping business.
Renick lifted his phone.
“Nathaniel.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Get me everything we have on Harbor Finch.”
A pause.
“Why?”
“Because I think Elise discovered something there.”
Nathaniel's answer came immediately.
“Sir, we've already found something.”
Renick went still.
“What?”
“A payment from Harbor Finch to Dr. Voss.”
“When?”
“Every month for six months.”
Renick looked at Belle.
Nathaniel continued.
“And the payments didn't begin when she started treating Brinley.”
Renick felt a chill.
“They began fourteen months ago.”
“Before Elise died?”
“Yes.”
May you like
Renick closed his eyes.
His daughter's therapist had been paid by his brother since before the night his wife was killed.
