Why hadn’t I killed him yet? A devilish smile and tempting eyes came to mind, and I was instantly hit with anger. The glass broke in my hand, and I stared down as it cut into my flesh. Something other than anger swirled in my chest. I shoved it all away.

No more distractions.

Guess it was time I finished the list. “Ramada’s partner was James Till. How in the hell were they the ones to bust Dillan?”

Blake looked at my bleeding hand and moved to grab a towel. I took it and placed it on the table, ignoring it and focusing on what was before me. Answers.

“Till was out on paternity leave. Ramada and Chandler were temporary partners,” Carter said.

No wonder I hadn’t put them together. They were in the same precinct but from what I had gathered, they were never together. I chastised myself for missing something that I normally would never overlook. Glaring mistakes one after another, all because I’d allowed myself to be distracted.

“Sir,” Blake said, pointing to my hand. “You should—”

“You two can leave.”

Carter pulled Blake, and they turned and headed for the door. They stopped just shy of leaving. “You want us back on Caster?”

Hearing his name sent a violent reaction through my body. I clenched my fist, and the glass pieces bit further into my flesh.

Yes. “No, he’s not important right now.” The lie was like ash on my tongue, but if I kept saying it, I was bound to believe it even when I buried him.

I raised a hand and hesitated before I knocked on the door. What was it about coming home that always made me pause? I sucked in a breath. Every alarm bell rang. I should turn around and leave. If my father wasn’t threatening to go to my Sargeant about the missing files, I would have. There was no way to get around what I’d done.

My knuckles rapped against the screen door. I stood up a little straighter, staring ahead. One ounce of weakness, and he’d be on my ass even more. The door creaked open. I stared down at my mother. The older I got, the tinier she looked.

“Hey, honey.” She smiled, but the look was forced. “What are you doing here?”

“Is Dad around?” I already know he is. When does the old man leave?

“Yes, he’s in the living room.” She opened the door and let me in. “What’s going on with you two? He won’t tell me anything.”

My lips pressed together. I didn’t know what to say to her that wouldn’t make her look at me with disappointment in her eyes.

“Nothing,” I said shortly. “I’ll go talk to Dad.”

“Oh. Okay.” She frowned. “You two play nice.”

I suppressed the scoff that threatened to break free. Nice. There was never any nice when the two of us were left alone. One of us always ruined it. I walked into the living room, and he looked up, a sneer twisting his lips.