“Please,” Maggie says with a roll of her eyes. “He has more money than God and can talk his way into just about anything. He’ll figure it out.”

And with that, she kisses Murphy and stomps out of the room.

Murphy whines.

Kane curses.

Bill sighs.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” I inform my best friend. “I told you to drop this a year ago. She doesn’t want to know. She made it clear, but you wouldn’t let it go.”

He drags his hands down his face. He’s pissed. But so am I.

“Look, I know that you want to protect her, but goddamn it, Kane, she’s not a child. She doesn’t want this.”

And anything else that he finds can only hurt her further.

Joseph Lemon was a grade-A son of a bitch.

“She’s pissed,” Kane mutters.

“Yeah, at me, as well. And if you fuck this up for me, I’ll never forgive you. I suggest you fix it.”

I turn and stomp out of the house and out to my truck. Everything in me wants to run after Maggie. I’m pretty sure she went straight to the pub, and by now, is telling Keegan and her parents and anyone else who’ll listen what just happened.

They’ve got her for now.

I need to figure out a way to diffuse her anger with me. Because, yes, I knew about the investigator. And, frankly, I know a hell of a lot more than that. But I can’t tell her—or anyone else—what I know.

And some days, that knowledge feels like it’s strangling me.

I spoke with my former boss and asked if I could tell Maggie, just Maggie, what I know, and he adamantly said no. This matter falls under the jurisdiction of the US government, and I’m legally bound to keep quiet. If I don’t, I could go to jail for up to ten years.

I’m not willing to do that.

Not today or any day.

Besides, Maggie insists that she doesn’t want to know, so it’s been no harm, no foul.

Until today.

I don’t think I can mend this with a bouquet of posies and some chocolates. She’s too angry.

Instead, I swing through the dollar store and buy a dozen drinking glasses, then I pull up to my house and haul an extra tin trash can from my garage and put it in the bed of my truck before driving over to Maggie’s.

I don’t have a key to her house, but that’s okay. For what I have in mind, I don’t need to go inside.

Chapter 8

~Maggie~

Goddamn it.

Goddamn it!

I should go straight home so I can stomp around and scream in frustration, then go to the pub once I’ve calmed down a bit.

That’s what I should do.