"When? All right, I'll be there." I folded into the media room as Jayson ended the call with a sigh. "Are we allowed to have bank accounts now?" he asked.
"Bree did."
"Yeah, I guess she did. Dad divided the estate three ways in his will. I'll have to bring Mom, I guess. We're supposed to meet at the lawyer's office in L.A. next week."
"Don't go alone," I said. "Take Bill and Lissa with you."
"Sounds like a plan." Jayson shook his head. "Never thought the old man would go like this. Can't help but think I'm partly responsible."
"Don't even start," Lissa walked in and held up a hand. "I'll go with you, for sure. Bill will come and I'll bring Merrill, too, just in case. Trajan can stay here with Kiarra, Adam and Opal. That ought to be enough, and we'll be mindspeech away if they need us."
"Somebody say my name?" Opal folded into the room. "Connegar taught me how to use nexus echo. Cool, huh?" Opal grinned at me.
"Very," I agreed. "Ashe taught me, long ago. I didn't use it much. We probably should all do it, now."
"You know what I like best, though?" Opal said.
"What?" Bill joined us by folding in next.
"Only using the bathroom to take a shower."
"A definite advantage," Lissa laughed. "That's the first thing I appreciated about being vampire."
"I have a question," Bill said.
"What's that?"
"Who else knows about the reading of your father's will, Jayson?"
"The lawyer, his staff, Jamie, his wife Laurel and probably half of L.A. if Laurel's been talking," Jayson sighed.
"Are you thinking we could be ambushed?" I asked.
"Yes. Your brother, his wife and your mother are vulnerable, Rome. If the enemy knows anything, they know that," Bill pointed out. "What they won't know is who might be coming with you, or that you're more than mortal, now."
Our conversation was interrupted by Jayson's phone ringing a second time. "Hello," he answered after checking caller ID. Everyone else listened in as Bob Sullivan, Ross Gideon and Rome Sr.'s private investigator, told us he had a line on someone who had information about their deaths.
"Why are you contacting me instead of Jamie?" Jayson asked.
"Because I called him first," Bob Sullivan snorted. "He said your old man was dead and that was the end of it. That the police were doing their job and for me to stay out of it."
"So he isn't paying you?" Jayson asked.
"Nobody is paying me for this. I got pissed when I kept getting the runaround from the police, so I started looking into it myself."
"Where can we meet?" Jayson asked, cutting his eyes toward me. I nodded. We'd check this out, in case Sullivan was now obsessed or coerced. I wasn't the one who could tell whether there was an obsession, though.
"Yeah, I can be there in an hour," Jayson agreed before ending the call. Well, we were about to meet with a private investigator. Hank? I sent. We need your help .
* * *
An hour later, Hank, Jayson and I sat in a booth at a coffee shop just outside Hollywood, waiting for Bob Sullivan to arrive. He was likely having difficulty parking—the lot was nearly full when we folded in.
"Jayson," Bob Sullivan nodded to him before taking the open seat. "Here's what I have on Marc Cummings." He handed a file folder to Jayson.
"You tracked down Marc Cummings? I'm impressed," Jayson said after flipping the folder open. "Look," Jayson handed a photograph to Hank, who in turn handed it to me. It showed Marc Cummings talking to a waitress at the all-night café in Tyrone, New Mexico.
"Did you approach him?" Hank's eyes were darker than usual as he studied Bob Sullivan.
"Hell, no. I heard what happened to Ross and Jayson's dad. We had no idea we were in over our heads on this one. Cummings never knew I was there."
"Does anybody else have this information?" I asked.
"No. I would have given it to Jamie, but he wouldn't talk to me."
"What else do you have?" Hank asked.
"This," Jayson handed over a second photograph. Hank held it up to cover the smoke flying from his nostrils. "Calhoun," he
"Bree did."
"Yeah, I guess she did. Dad divided the estate three ways in his will. I'll have to bring Mom, I guess. We're supposed to meet at the lawyer's office in L.A. next week."
"Don't go alone," I said. "Take Bill and Lissa with you."
"Sounds like a plan." Jayson shook his head. "Never thought the old man would go like this. Can't help but think I'm partly responsible."
"Don't even start," Lissa walked in and held up a hand. "I'll go with you, for sure. Bill will come and I'll bring Merrill, too, just in case. Trajan can stay here with Kiarra, Adam and Opal. That ought to be enough, and we'll be mindspeech away if they need us."
"Somebody say my name?" Opal folded into the room. "Connegar taught me how to use nexus echo. Cool, huh?" Opal grinned at me.
"Very," I agreed. "Ashe taught me, long ago. I didn't use it much. We probably should all do it, now."
"You know what I like best, though?" Opal said.
"What?" Bill joined us by folding in next.
"Only using the bathroom to take a shower."
"A definite advantage," Lissa laughed. "That's the first thing I appreciated about being vampire."
"I have a question," Bill said.
"What's that?"
"Who else knows about the reading of your father's will, Jayson?"
"The lawyer, his staff, Jamie, his wife Laurel and probably half of L.A. if Laurel's been talking," Jayson sighed.
"Are you thinking we could be ambushed?" I asked.
"Yes. Your brother, his wife and your mother are vulnerable, Rome. If the enemy knows anything, they know that," Bill pointed out. "What they won't know is who might be coming with you, or that you're more than mortal, now."
Our conversation was interrupted by Jayson's phone ringing a second time. "Hello," he answered after checking caller ID. Everyone else listened in as Bob Sullivan, Ross Gideon and Rome Sr.'s private investigator, told us he had a line on someone who had information about their deaths.
"Why are you contacting me instead of Jamie?" Jayson asked.
"Because I called him first," Bob Sullivan snorted. "He said your old man was dead and that was the end of it. That the police were doing their job and for me to stay out of it."
"So he isn't paying you?" Jayson asked.
"Nobody is paying me for this. I got pissed when I kept getting the runaround from the police, so I started looking into it myself."
"Where can we meet?" Jayson asked, cutting his eyes toward me. I nodded. We'd check this out, in case Sullivan was now obsessed or coerced. I wasn't the one who could tell whether there was an obsession, though.
"Yeah, I can be there in an hour," Jayson agreed before ending the call. Well, we were about to meet with a private investigator. Hank? I sent. We need your help .
* * *
An hour later, Hank, Jayson and I sat in a booth at a coffee shop just outside Hollywood, waiting for Bob Sullivan to arrive. He was likely having difficulty parking—the lot was nearly full when we folded in.
"Jayson," Bob Sullivan nodded to him before taking the open seat. "Here's what I have on Marc Cummings." He handed a file folder to Jayson.
"You tracked down Marc Cummings? I'm impressed," Jayson said after flipping the folder open. "Look," Jayson handed a photograph to Hank, who in turn handed it to me. It showed Marc Cummings talking to a waitress at the all-night café in Tyrone, New Mexico.
"Did you approach him?" Hank's eyes were darker than usual as he studied Bob Sullivan.
"Hell, no. I heard what happened to Ross and Jayson's dad. We had no idea we were in over our heads on this one. Cummings never knew I was there."
"Does anybody else have this information?" I asked.
"No. I would have given it to Jamie, but he wouldn't talk to me."
"What else do you have?" Hank asked.
"This," Jayson handed over a second photograph. Hank held it up to cover the smoke flying from his nostrils. "Calhoun," he
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