style="font-size:15px;"> Beside her, Mark tensed.
Then Davis was glancing back at Ava. “You’re lucky that you weren’t in that room when the guy broke in. Maybe he wouldn’t have used that glass just to carve a message on a wall. He might have tried carving into you.”
She held her ground. “You think I don’t know that?”
Mark swore. “Stop it, Davis. You don’t need to scare her.”
Right. She was already scared plenty, with Davis adding to her terror.
But Davis fired back, “Maybe she needs to be scared. These incidents have been going on for weeks, and she didn’t tell us. She’s lucky she isn’t already dead.”
Ava flinched.
Mark surged toward her brother. “Don’t.” His voice was low and lethal. “Don’t you tell her—”
“Ava is my sister. What is she to you?”
Mark’s turbulent stare jumped to her. She thought of the kiss they’d shared in the guest room. Of how very close they’d come to sharing something else, too.
“Ava is—” Mark began.
“He’s my friend,” Ava said, her words clear and strong. She didn’t know what else he might prove to be to her, but on that point, Ava was certain.
Davis opened his mouth to say something else, probably to launch some kind of attack at Mark, but she wasn’t in the mood for that. “He was wearing a ski mask.”
Davis’s brow furrowed.
“A black one.” She inclined her head toward the study area. “One of the video cameras caught sight of the guy leaving, so now we know—”
“He’s big, probably about six foot one, maybe six foot two,” Mark said. “Fit. And far too familiar with my home.”
Because he’d just walked right in the door.
“We should get the cops out here,” Davis immediately said. “Get them to run a fingerprint check and use their crime-scene team.”
Mark’s shoulders tensed. “He was wearing gloves in the video, so I don’t think the guy left any prints behind. And after our last experience with the cops, I wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to get them here again.”
Our last experience. She knew just what he was talking about. For years, the McGuires had been friends with Austin police detective Shayne Townsend. Most of the cops had seemed to give up hope of ever finding the men who’d killed their parents, but Shayne had kept working the case.
Or so they’d all believed.
But when Brodie and his girlfriend had come under attack, they’d all learned the truth about Shayne. The police detective had accidentally killed an unarmed teen years ago, and he’d been covering up the crime ever since. He’d been blackmailed into breaking the law.
And maybe even blackmailed into covering up the identity of the men who’d killed her parents?
That was sure what some of her brothers suspected.
“You never know who you can trust,” Davis murmured, his head cocked as he studied Mark. “And who you can’t.”
There was something in his voice that put Ava on edge.
“We’re calling the cops,” Davis said. “And I’ll want to talk with your men.”
Ava shivered a moment, thinking about how close that unknown man had been to her.
Mark pulled out his phone. Spoke quietly.
Davis closed in on her. “Don’t trust him.”
“Right, I saw the message on the wall. I got it—”
“This message is coming from me.” His gaze slanted quickly toward Mark, then back to her. “I don’t know what you think is happening between you two, but there are things going on you don’t know about.”
Her back teeth clenched at that. She didn’t know about those things only because her brothers liked their secrets. “He’s your friend, too.”
“I don’t know what he is, not right now.”
The whole situation was insane. “He saved me that night.” She’d never forget her first sight of him. Terror had filled her, and then—Mark had been there.
Davis exhaled on a rough sigh. “Right before Shayne Townsend died I asked him who killed our parents.”
Her heart stopped before pounding again in a double-time rhythm. “What did he say?”
Mark was off the phone. And he’d—he’d closed in on them. “Yeah,” Mark said, voice roughening, “what did he say, and why didn’t you tell us before now?”
A muscle flexed along the line of Davis’s jaw. “I didn’t tell you because I know how Ava feels about her friend Mark.”
She hated the stress he’d just put on that word. “You’re friends, too—”
“Montgomery.”
“What?” Ava exclaimed. “I don’t understand—”
“The last word he said was...Montgomery.” Davis turned his attention on a still-as-stone Mark. “So I have to wonder...why did Shayne use his last breath to name your family? Unless...the Montgomerys are responsible for the murder of our parents.”
She hadn’t thought the situation around her could get any worse. But it just had—so very much worse. Because as she stared at Mark, Ava could have sworn that she saw guilt creep across his face.
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