Diesel winced, reminding himself sternly that Laurel Masterson was Grant’s sister. “Yes,” he said, gentling his normally gravelly tone as much as he could. “We don’t know all the details, but it appears that Laurel was . . . trafficked.”

Grant’s throat worked as he tried to swallow. “Oh God.” The words were half moan, half whimper. “Oh my God.”

Dani slid her hand over Grant’s, her expression concerned. “Do you need to take a break?”

Grant shook his head. “No,” he rasped. “Tell me. Please.”

Diesel sighed. “His name was Anatoly Markov. He’s also dead. Killed in a home invasion, just like Detective Stuart.”

Grant closed his eyes. “Wesley,” he whispered.

“Okay,” Scarlett said, her frost thawing. “Now I get why you didn’t go to the police. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Diesel nodded, still watching Grant with concern. “Okay. Michael Rowland witnessed his stepfather’s murder on March ninth, at the hand of a bald guy.”

“Scott King, a.k.a. Cade Kaiser,” Deacon said. “Whose birth name is Cadeyrn, by the way, which means ‘king.’ His father is Konrad, which also means ‘king.’”

“Wow,” Dani murmured. “Hubris much?”

“Much,” Deacon said with a nod. “So, Diesel, you investigated Cade Kaiser.”

“Not at the beginning. I started out by following the money, all the way through, because I knew Michael hadn’t killed his stepfather. We were worried that the big bald guy would come after Michael because he’d seen his face, so I tried to find who else would have wanted to kill the stepfather. I checked John Brewer’s finances. He was broke, had cleaned out the boys’ trust funds, and had transferred the title of the house to LJM Industries.”

Grant stiffened. “LJM are Laurel’s initials, but I’ve never heard of that company.”

“We’re pretty sure your brother created it,” Diesel said cautiously, because Grant’s head had begun to wag side to side in denial.

“That’s impossible,” Grant said. “I do his taxes. I’d have seen it.” Then he closed his eyes again. “Unless he hid it from me, like he hid everything else.”

Oh. It suddenly made sense, why Wesley Masterson had named the businesses the way he had. Leaving the clues in plain sight had been a message to his brother, in case he wasn’t able to tell Grant himself.

Because Wesley wasn’t sure he’d survive whatever it was that he was trying to do.

Beside him, Dani sucked in a quiet breath, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye. She’d gotten it, too. He gave her a slight nod, silently telling her to continue.