The doctor in Nate rose to the surface. “Did Wilson have a history of heart problems?”
Howard shook his head. “No, but according to the toxicology report, he was speed-balling. Not long before he died, he shot a massive dose of heroin and snorted a nose full of cocaine. There was also a health amount of diazepam in his bloodstream, probably from the same batch he used on your dog.” He snorted. “Being a hit-man probably wears on the nerves.”
Brandon gave Howard a puzzled stare. “The only thing found in that room besides a suitcase and Wilson’s clothes was a half-full bottle of Jack Daniels and an empty glass. I went over the report myself.”
“That’s true, but the clerk said Wilson went out earlier in the evening. He could have gotten doped up while he was out. Combined with all that whisky, the junk in his bloodstream was too much for Wilson’s ticker.”
Nate noticed that Brandon didn’t disagree, but he still seemed skeptical. Nate turned to Howard. “So what happens now?”
Howard’s expression softened a little. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you, Doc. Did Nash tell you that Wilson had a brother?”
“Yeah. He said the brother called the night Wilson’s body was found.”
“That’s true. They’re half-brothers, actually. Same mother, different fathers. We got the phone company’s records and tracked him down. His name’s Patrick Malone. He had a lot to say about his brother.” Howard’s face took on that sympathetic glaze that Nate was starting to dread. “He also had a few things to say about your father, Doc.”
Brandon’s hands tightened around Nate’s waist. Nate said, “Let’s hear it.”
“Malone works for Mor-co. He says he was the one who introduced Calder to Wilson. He claims Calder told him he needed some muscle, but didn’t tell him what for. He’s willing to make a deal in exchange for his testimony against your father.”
Nate looked back and forth between Brandon and Howard. “Can he do that? Even after what happened to Amy?”
Howard said, “That’ll be up to the local DA, but I’d say chances are good that Malone will get immunity in exchange for his testimony against Calder. To prosecute him as an accessory to murder, the DA would have to prove he knew ahead of time what the plan was. That’s gonna be damn hard to do since we aren’t even certain exactly what the plan was ourselves.” He turned his attention to Brandon. “Wilson’s death is officially listed as an overdose. I spoke with my boss not an hour ago. We’re off the case as of now.”
Brandon helped Nate to his feet and then stood up himself. He extended his hand to Howard. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but I will say I couldn’t have kept Nate safe without your help. I owe you, Howard.”
Howard shook his hand and said, “You’re wrong about that, Nash. I was glad to help you, but you had it covered long before I got here.” Howard shook Nathan’s hand next. “Sorry about your dad, Doc. I wish things had turned out differently.”
Nate reached for Brandon with his left hand. “I’m sorry my father is a worthless bigot. And,” his voice cracked, “I’m more sorry than I can ever say about Marjorie and Amy.” He moved his gaze from Howard to Brandon. “But there are some things I’ll never regret.”
Brandon kissed his palm and returned the look, his gaze full of heat. Howard said his goodbyes and slipped out of the room with a smile.
* * *
Being in love with someone didn’t necessarily mean loving everything about them. Brandon accepted that. He knew he and Nate were always going to have their differences. Brandon never said a word about Nate’s obsessive neatness, or the fact that he chewed exactly thirty-two times before he swallowed his food. He even glossed over the fact that Nate talked baby-talk to their dog. But no way in hell was he going to ignore Nate’s callous disregard for one of America’s greatest inventions.
“It’s just a car, Bran.”
Brandon clutched his hand over his heart. “Just a car? Just a car, he says. Was the General Lee just a car to the Duke Boys? Was Kit just a car to Michael Knight inKnight Rider? And what about James Bond and all his different spy cars? Or Batman? Where would Batman be without the Bat-mobile?”
Nate started buttoning his shirt. “Walking?”
Brandon shot him a dirty look from his seat on the bed and continued lacing up his boots. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, you can find someone else to take you car shopping.”
Nate tucked his shirt into his jeans. “Brandon, it’s not that big of a deal.” When Brandon gave him another withering stare, Nate said, “If I get the urge to fight crime or join an international spy ring, I promise you I’ll consult only the top experts before I buy a car. And since I’m already sleeping with the local sheriff, I don’t think I’ll need a car like the General Lee.” He grinned and slipped his belt through the loops. “If I do decide to start bootlegging whiskey, I won’t need a special getaway car. I’ll just slip you about six inches and ask you to look the other way.”
Brandon threw a pillow at his head. “Six inches, my ass. More like eight. And I still say you should put a little more effort into this. Hell, you don’t even know what kind of car you want.”
Nate sat down beside Brandon and pulled on his socks. “I told you, Bran. I don’t care what make or model as long as it gets good mileage and runs decent. I want something serviceable, like my old Honda.”
Brandon made a gagging sound. “If you look up ‘serviceable’ in the dictionary, it says, ‘See boring.’ You’re twenty-eight years old Nate. You have the rest of your life to drive something dependable. Don’t you want to live a little? Have some excitement?”
“I think I’ve had enough excitement in the last two months to last me a lifetime.”
Brandon said, “That’s not the kind of excitement I’m talking about, and you know it. Look, in a few years, after the kids come along, we’ll get you a nice, quiet mini-van. Right now, don’t you want something a little bolder?”
Nate narrowed his eyes. “How bold are we talking, here?”
Brandon was all but rubbing his hands together with glee. “As it happens, I know a guy who sells just the kind of cars I’m talking about.”
“I thought we’d just go to some of the dealerships in Chicago.”
Brandon shook his head. “We talked about that last night, Nate. Those places are all the same. Cookie-cutter operations selling the same old thing. The place I’m talking about has character. No one will ever accuse Cain Lucas of being a conformist.”
As soon as Nate sighed, Brandon knew he’d won. He leaned over and kissed Nate’s cheek. “I’ll pick you up after work this evening and we’ll head over there.”
Nate said, “I’m breathless with anticipation.” Brandon ignored him and finished getting ready for work, whistling as he went.
* * *
The minute Brandon pulled the Camaro from the paved street onto a gravel road leading into the woods, Nate knew he was in trouble. When Cain Lucas’s place came into view, he fought down the urge to beg Brandon to turn the car around.
“When you said you were taking me to buy a car, I thought you meant you were taking me to a dealership.”