Chapter 20

Caleb followed his brother around the displays of rings as Murphy tried to choose one. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he leaned over to peer in the glass, raking his eyes over the rows of glittering stones and gold bands.

“I know the cops are doing the best they can, but if Ryan’s the one who created this entire mess, we need to find him. Maybe if he tells the cops where the money is and helps the feds get the Malatoa cartel, they’ll go easy on him.”

Murphy looked over his shoulder, annoyed. “Dude. I’m shopping for an engagement ring. Can we not talk about our dead, or not, brother for a couple hours? Especially since the engagement ring I intend to buy is for his widow?”

“Is she his widow now that he’s not dead? And was she ever his wife if he was married to someone else at the same time? Will she have to divorce him?”

“I should have brought Jax. He keeps his mouth shut.”

“Which is precisely why you brought me.” Caleb smacked his brother on the back. “You wanted an opinion, not silent acquiescence. And you wanted someone who knows Beck as well as you do. Jax spends too much time out on the boat for that.”

“Then let’s focus on the opinion I want, which is what ring to buy for Beckett. I royally fucked it all up by springing this on her the other night, and now I need to buy her something to make up for it.”

Caleb scowled. “That insinuates Beckett cares about the ring. She doesn’t, and you damn well know it. She wouldn’t have agreed to marry you if she didn’t love you, and she certainly isn’t going to call it off if you pick an oval cut when she wanted round.”

A salesman smoothly cut into the conversation. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Can I help you find something?”

Murphy stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m looking for an engagement ring.”

Beaming, the man ushered both men to a row of jewelry cases. “Excellent! Is there a budget we’re trying to stay under?”

Murphy whistled when he saw the tag on a ring. “Umm, less than a car?” When Caleb laughed, he frowned. “If you can’t take this seriously, I’ll take you home and bring Jax back. He just smiles and nods.”

“No, I was just thinking Beckett would have your head if you spend twenty grand on a ring.”

“I’m not going to, so it’s a moot point.” Turning back to the clerk, Murphy mentally went over the money in his personal account, the shop account, and the room on his credit cards. “Let’s shoot for somewhere between a go-cart and a compact.”

Nodding, the salesman opened a case and withdrew a tray of rings. “Here are what we have in diamonds in your price range. If you’re willing to consider other gemstones, the budget is considerably less. Is your lady wanting a diamond?”

Murphy racked his brain for what jewelry Beckett normally wore. “She tends to wear colorful stuff. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear a diamond. Even when she was married to Ryan, she just wore a band.” Catching the look the clerk gave him, he explained. “She was widowed. Her husband was killed in action. He was Army.”

Sympathy flashed in the man’s eyes. “My condolences. Did you know her husband?”

Caleb snorted. “He was our brother.” Pointing to a case on the opposite side, he grabbed Murphy’s arm and dragged him across the store. “I think Beck needs some fire and flash. She’s not cool enough for a diamond. That’s more Savi’s looks. I picture Beckett wearing a ruby or an emerald.”

Murphy resisted, pointing to a ring in the first case. “That one.”

The ring had three stones, all a creamy yellow in color, surrounded by tiny diamonds on a yellow gold band. Smiling, the clerk withdrew the ring and passed it to Murphy.

“Yellow diamonds. Canary is what they’re called. These are unusually pure, and the color is exceptionally clear. The center stone is three-quarters of a carat, and the side stones are a quarter each. Total weight is two carats. A nontraditional choice for an engagement ring, but a lovely one. It’s a size six. Do you know your fiancé’s size?”

“That should fit.” Murphy looked to his brother. “Well?”

Caleb grinned and slapped Murphy on the shoulder. “It’s perfect. Can you afford it?”

The clerk chuckled when both men looked at him with questioning eyes. “To put this into the terms you used earlier, this is more than a Mule, less than a Kia. Closer to the Mule side.”

Walking out with the ring-box tucked into his jacket pocket and his bank account emptier than it had been since college, Murphy felt better than he could ever remembered. Casting a look both directions as they prepared to cross the street, he slapped a hand on his brother’s chest.

Annoyed, Caleb swatted it away. “Dude, what?”

“There. Look. Across the street, halfway down the block. Brown leather jacket, jeans and boots, hat pulled down low.”

Caleb followed his brother’s gaze, his eyes focusing on the man Murphy described. “Mother fucker. It’s Ryan.”

By silent agreement, the brothers split up, Murphy pulling his phone out to call Jax, and Caleb staying behind rows of cars to disguise himself. The man looked up and Murphy found himself staring into his older brother’s eyes. With a salute, Ryan stepped off the curb and headed down the street, weaving in and out of the mid-afternoon foot traffic on Bar Harbor.

Murphy picked up his pace, working his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on Ryan’s hat. Trusting Caleb to cut him off at some point, Murphy stuck with the tail, tracking Ryan three blocks down and four to the west. As they moved, Murphy gained ground on his brother, getting within thirty feet at one point. With a furtive look over his shoulder, Ryan spotted a yellow cab and shoved the woman waiting out of the way, hopping in and slamming the door. With a squeal of brakes, the car rounded a corner and disappeared into traffic.

Swearing, Caleb jogged over from the other side of the street, his face tight. “Dammit! If he’d have cut across, I’d have had him. I was even with the fucker.”

Murphy turned in a circle. “The building he was standing in front of, what was it?”

“Weston’s Inn, why?”

“That might be where he’s staying. We could catch him back there when he tries to get his shit, or we figure out his room and break in.”

Caleb nodded and struck out back in the direction they’d come from. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“After we know what we need to know. My truck is at the jewelry store. I’ve got gloves in there. We’ll use them to keep from leaving prints. I want to know why he’s here and what he has.”

Together, with latex gloves stuffed in their pockets, Caleb and Murphy strode into the Weston Inn. Striding up to the counter, Murphy pinned his most charming smile on the desk clerk, vaguely recognizing her from high school.

“Afternoon, Vanessa.”

Preening when Murphy remembered her name, Vanessa put a hand to her hair and puffed it up lightly. “Well, Murphy McKenzie, and Caleb, too. How did I get so lucky to have two handsome men come in here on a Saturday afternoon?”

Murphy leaned against the counter, pinning his tawny golden gaze onto hers. “Well, Vanessa, Caleb and I need your help.”

Blushing, Vanessa tapped her fingernails on the counter. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about Beckett, and that she’s been in some trouble lately, haven’t you?”

Nodding, Vanessa’s eyes widened. “I heard you got knocked out and that there’s all sorts of trouble with Ryan—bless his soul. But I don’t know how I can help with.”

“Well, there’s been a guy giving Beckett trouble. Coming into Vive, bothering her at work, calling the house, that sort of thing. The police can’t do anything because Vive is a public place and he hasn’t committed a crime, but we think he’s involved in everything.” Smiling conspiratorially, Murphy withdrew the ring box from his pocket. “I was across the street at the jewelry store a little bit ago buying this for Beckett. When I came out, I saw the man who had been bothering her coming out of the Inn. I was hoping you might be able to slip me a key to his room and Caleb and I could take a quick look around. We won’t take anything or bother anything, but I want to see if there’s something in there the police might need.”

Vanessa pressed her hands to her ample breasts and sighed over the ring. “Oh, Murphy! I’d heard you and Beckett were seeing each other, but I never dreamed it was so serious!” She smiled at him with damp eyes. “It’s beautiful. She’ll love it. Why, I’m going to schedule myself a full day at Vive just to listen to all the girls coo and sigh over Beckett and her ring.”

Wondering why the hell Vanessa thought that even remotely sounded like fun, Murphy played what he hoped was a trump card. “Well, I’m sure I could speak with Beck and make sure you’re well taken care of on whatever day you go in at no charge. On account of you helping us with her troublemaker and all.”

Swept away with the romance of it all, Vanessa moved the mouse to wake up her screen. “What did this man look like?”

“Tall, lanky, brown leather jacket, jeans, and a hat. Short hair, mid-forties. Just came down and left not half an hour ago.”

“That would be Mr. Bethel. He arrived two weeks ago, paid in cash, and keeps to himself. Never even smiles or waves at any of the staff and always has the ‘do not disturb’ sign out. He comes to get sheets and towels himself, then leaves the dirty ones out in the hall. Management is getting a little concerned what the state of his room is.”

“I’d be happy to report back on it for you.”

Vanessa pursed her lips and opened a drawer, pulling out a key card. Clicking several times on the computer, she placed it into a machine and then handed it to Murphy. “I’ll call the room if he comes back. Six-nineteen. Be quick about it, and whatever you do, don’t mess anything up.”

“I won’t.” Murphy leaned over the counter and planted a smacking kiss right on her mouth. “You’re a lifesaver. Pick a day for the Vive trip and I’ll make sure Beckett knows.”

****

From across the street, Ryan watched the scene with ire, his face flushing red with anger as his two brothers got on the elevator. Cursing his bad luck, he pulled the cap down lower over his eyes and withdrew his wallet, counting the bills to make sure he had enough to get him to Boston and one more identity. Disappearing into the throng of people, he sighed and shook his head.

Things were going to end one way or the other, and they’d have to end soon.

****

Murphy opened the door and flipped on the light, not at all surprised to see the room was ruthlessly neat. The bed was made, not a speck of dust adorned any surface, and not one thing was out of place. Scowling, he jerked open the closet.

“Definitely Ryan. No one else is capable of living this neatly.”

Caleb chuckled and went to the dresser, pulling on the latex gloves before beginning to rifle through things. “You only say so because you are a constant slob.” He opened the top drawer and pulled out the toiletries case, dumping it out onto the dresser. “What do you think the odds are Ryan still keeps everything exactly like he did when he was nineteen and we were torturing him by messing with his shit?”

Murphy gestured to the color-coordinated shirts. “I’d say pretty damn good.” He methodically went through the pockets of the garments, not surprised when he found nothing of interest. “Dammit, there has to be something.”

Caleb struck gold in the bottom drawer, pulling it open and revealing a leather duffel bag. Hefting it, he placed the bag on the dresser and unzipped it, whistling when piles of money were revealed.

“Holy shit.”

Murphy elbowed his brother out of the way. “Hot damn, that’s a lot of cash.” He stuck his hands in the bag. “Hey! Here we go.”

Pulling out a manila envelope, he dumped the contents onto the dresser and flipped open the passport to look at the photo and name.

“Wilson Bethel. Age forty-six, address listed as Brooklyn. He’s changed his hair and eye color. Contact lenses, I’m sure. There’s no surgery for that unless it’s new.”

Caleb snorted. “I think we’d have heard about something like that.” He rifled through the rest of the papers. “Resume, diplomas—damn, everything you’d need to completely start over. This is insane.”

Murphy pulled out his cell phone and took pictures of everything. “Let’s call Sheriff Rogers and get out of here. I think we should go down to Brooklyn and see what’s in the apartment listed as his address.”

Caleb frowned, the expression putting furrows between his eyebrows. “Probably another wife and a couple kids.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if we found another set or two.” Murphy dialed the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Clint? This is Murphy McKenzie. Ryan was staying at Weston’s on the Harbor. I saw him when I was coming out of a shop across the street. I’m standing in his room right now. There are piles of cash and a passport for Wilson Bethel, a man who happens to be wearing my brother’s face.”