Convergence Zone by Elle Keaton

Author:Elle Keaton [Keaton, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dirty Dog Press LLC

Eighteen

The Bailey residence was… appalling. One of those fake Southern Antebellum-style mansions, possibly influenced by too many viewings of Gone with the Wind while drinking, that had no business anywhere close to the Pacific Northwest. Even the property had been infused with a plantation-like air, with a carriage house and a few other matching outbuildings used for god knew what. Weir wondered if there were household help, but quickly decided he didn’t want to know.

To make matters worse, the Bailey house wasn’t the only one in the area with a nod to false Southern heritage. The gated community had several of the monstrosities. Sterling had the gate code from prior visits to see Raven, so they arrived somewhat stealthily. Sterling’s practical little car chugged up the pretentious driveway where he parked next a gleaming Lexus and a Tesla, both of which looked freshly washed and waxed.

Sterling came around to help Weir out of the car. As quickly as he was recovering, his right arm was still weak, and his fancy crutch was in the back seat. Dana had said he would be able to run again—maybe not ultramarathons, but long runs for certain. The sense of relief he had felt when she said those words was so strong he almost cried.

Once out of the car and certain he was stable, he joined Sterling for the journey to the front door. Even though he hadn’t known Sterling for very long, he could tell by the set of his shoulders and the grim line of his mouth that the man was ready for war.

His first impression that Sterling judged and found the rest of the world lacking had been replaced by the understanding that Sterling held his true self aloof out of self-preservation. Sterling was most comfortable feeling separate from the crowd; it had become his safe place. It made sense that Sterling was a bartender. Bartending allowed for a very controlled sort of interaction with people.

They were both pretty fucked up, that was the truth. At least Weir had had Ben. Ben was gone now, but in the short time they were a family he had made a big impact on Weir. Ben had been a person who cared, and who did the right thing because that was the way he was built. His actions had always reflected his words. Ben had made sure Weir went to therapy, helped him to understand that what happened to his bio-family was not his fault—even if Weir didn’t always believe that.

Becoming an investigator had been part of his journey as well. Helping victims and their families find closure healed him a little, too. Selfish? A bit, but it worked for him.

“Are we knocking, or do you have a key?”

Sterling shot him a look that said everything. There was no chance either of his parents would give him a key. If Weir weren’t halfway through recovery he would be tempted to do something stupid like kick the door in.

The door opened before Sterling had a chance to knock, and a petite, fiftyish woman stood before them.

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