Chapter One
NOAH
I’m not exactly running. More like jogging. Running isn’t within my remit, no matter how much he pays me. In all honesty, I hate the fucker, but needs must, and when a tosser like Landon Broderick has one over on you, you do as you’re told. Not that he has anything over me, but he does over my brother. And guess what that means?
We need Landon.
I push a bush out of the way and duck under a huge oak, eyes scanning for, what appears to be, a little murderer. Who cares? Not me, that’s for sure. I’m just getting on with business as usual. Today seems to have turned from hunt information to hunt the pretty one.
More running, more searching, and I find myself trailing around the back of the main mansion-house and heading for the old stables. Vast, stone pillars line the entrance, a crest in the arch over the top to show its formidable stature back in the day. I mean, fuck, the stables are bigger than most council estates, and this is where the horses lived? Privileged wankers.
No little Neve Broderick to be found there, so I cut back out into the grounds again, making a wide arc across the outlying gardens. It’s nothing but more cash and manicured lawns, half of them striped up like a tennis court on acid. The fact that these people don’t even live here makes the final leg as galling as watching Landon work his magic in a courtroom. I wanted to hate him when he approached me with his Eton schooled accent all those years back. And then I wanted to punch the living crap out of him for his audacity when he changed the direction of an unwinnable case, but a deal’s a deal.
My brother’s safety came at a cost.
I’m still paying it.
At least I’m being paid for it.
I slow back to a walk as I approach the mansion, giving the ambulance a once over, and then turn at the sound of police sirens in the distance. They’ll be coming down the main drive soon, but there are other ways in and out of here. One old road comes out of the village for deliveries, and a rough track comes from the old servants' houses on the far end of the estate. I’ve got no way of assessing either of them on foot, and if she’s managed to get out of here by car – she’s long gone.
I might be smiling about it all as I cut around the back of the house. In fact, I am. Fuck it. Someone’s got something over the Brodericks. I don’t even care if it’s her or someone else. A nearly dead Broderick senior must be riling the living shit out of Landon. Having said that, maybe he’s fucking pleased. He’s a callous dick like that, barely any concern or thought to anything that doesn’t give him what he wants. Doubt he’d say any different either if he was truly honest.
Not sure lawyers ever are, though.
The eventual sight of the chaos still going on in the back gardens makes me shrink back against a wall, watching. There’s an old couple on the terrace, the woman crying. Staff I think. The young one is bawling and gripping hold of Scott, occasionally getting a word out through her tears. Ivy’s getting herself irate about something with Blake, as he tries to calm her down. The other woman – the fit one, Willow – is hanging around Landon, probably not sure what to do. And then there’s Landon himself, barely a fucking emotion on his face as he watches the paramedics do whatever they can. Not much, it seems. The old man is dead. No movement. No breathing.
Fucking gone.
I cross my arms and wait, certain there’s going to be some shit levelled at me for not catching the little murderer. Nothing I can do about that. She was either quicker than me or she had it all planned out. I'm going with the latter. She's smart. I know that because I've already tried to track her money. Can't find it - anywhere. There isn't one Broderick on this planet without money. They're loaded. So that means she knows how to hide shit. Well. I can't remember the last time someone managed to hide something from me. Which is probably another reason why I'm thinking about smiling in the middle of this shitstorm. Either way, I’ve got nothing good to report back with.
After a few moments, Landon clearly hears the sirens and then slants his gaze to me a way behind him. I shake my head, letting him know what he needs to. Guess he’ll be processing that now, trying to work out who needs to say what to the police when they get here, and if he wants to say anything about Neve at all. He probably doesn’t. Whatever they are to each other, these Brodericks stay tight most of the time, and it’s his job to keep that seamless as best he can irrespective of blame.
He moves over to me quickly, a fucking glower etched in that could scare the gods.
“Nothing?” he asks.
“Not a trace. Grounds are clear from what I can see. She’s gone.” He looks back at the paramedics, then sweeps his gaze over the family around him.
“Did you find a weapon?”
“No.”
A handkerchief gets pulled out of his pocket, and he gets on with wiping the blood from his hands without another word. He’s still looking at them all, though, still sharp as a fucking razor as he assesses his own situation. He’s right to. They’ll all be questioned, all be hauled over the stones about what happened here and who the fuck did it. Maybe he’ll say they didn’t see anything. Or maybe he’ll tell them all to keep quiet, not say a fucking word.
“Where the hell is she?” Ivy spits. I look over at her, watching as she makes a direct line for me and wipes her eyes. “You didn’t catch her?”
“No.”
“How could you not have fucking caught her and-”
“Ivy. Shut up and calm down,” Landon cuts in. Good job, too. I can't be doing with hysterical dramatics.
“Calm down? Father’s dead, and Neve was over him with blood on her hands, and you want me to calm down?” Blake goes to her side, his arm trying to go around her. She bats it off, revs herself up for more arguing and looks straight at me again. “Get back out there and look again, Noah.”
“He’s staying here for the moment, ” Landon says calmly. “And you’re going to keep your mouth closed until I can work out what we all need to say.” Her head spins to look at something, eyes widening at the loud scream of sirens on the drive. Yeah, she’s got it. The police are nearly here. And explanations need giving. “No one saw anything, Ivy. Do you understand?”
He walks down to the young one and Scott, talking quietly. Telling them what to say, I guess. And then he’s back up here telling Ivy and Blake and the fit one the same as he’s told them. And then the old couple. Not that they were here, but I guess they need filling in, too.
