“We’re looking into people he knew before he went in.” Duarte quirked his mouth ruefully. “Family too, but so far, no one’s even wanting to admit they know the guy, much less be related to him.”
“Look, we know Rollins is probably the guy. One of the men he’d run with at the halfway house is a demolitions nut. Those smoke bombs were huge, nearly twenty-five pounds each. Too sophisticated for the average DIY, and Rollins wasn’t known for his science skills,” the senior inspector informed them. “We found one that didn’t catch. Rollins, or whoever’s helping him, had them on low-end auto-fuses. Chances are, he broke into the Sound to lay the one we found there and was surprised to find St. John and Mitchell there.”
“Most auto-fuses are good for what? An hour? Two?” Kane asked softly. “Think he stuck around to watch his handiwork?”
“More than likely. We’re asking around to see if anyone saw him or any of the other guys who bolted from the halfway house.” Kiki glanced at her father. “Captain’s given us leave to run up overtime on this. A lot of the uniforms are going door to door with photos.”
“Hell, he might even be in the area,” Duarte commented. “We’re hoping for a hit. They had to have transported the cylinders in something. Probably passing them off as rolled-up rugs. So it’ll be a van or something like that. There’s some camera shots the lab’s going through. That might help.”
“Do we know why he’s doing this?” Miki interjected. “Forest—you knew this guy for what? Five minutes?”
“Little bit more than that. I did some—” He made a face at the singer. “—some really fucking stupid things when I was a kid.”
“I still do stupid things,” Miki shot back. “Any clue why he’s stuck to your ass now?”
“Not a damned one,” he replied. “I haven’t thought about him in years. Rollins was some guy my mom’s friends brought around. That’s how I knew him. Frank knew him from before that, and it’s not like he went to jail for roughing me up. Shit, I didn’t even think he was arrested. Frank was the one the cops hauled in.”
“Yeah, Rollins’d been tagged,” Kiki said. “Then he had a few run-ins with parents about inappropriate behavior. Was logged in as a sex offender and was caught trying to molest a kid on a soccer field. That’s what sent him in, finally.”
“What about that kid’s family?” Con shifted his arms tighter around Forest’s chest. “You guys have an eye on them? If Rollins is after his past victims, he could hit on them too.”
“We’re in touch,” Duarte said. “Family’s left the state. So far, it seems like he’s only lashing out at Ackerman. It might be Rollins didn’t mean to murder Marshall, or maybe he thinks both of them are responsible somehow for his incarceration. I can’t speculate about motive right now. It’s not as important as finding him.”
“So what do we do?” Kane looked at his brother when they spoke at once. Connor shook his head, and Kane continued, “Short of killing this guy.”
“Totally an option.” Connor tightened his arms around Forest’s shoulders.
“I’d rather see him in jail, boys.” Donal spoke softly. “Let the courts have him and walk away.”
“Not that I don’t agree with you, Da,” Connor replied. “But I’m telling you, on this one, it’s hard.”
“I know. It’s hard on us all. This man’s hit at us, but we’re going to hit back.” Donal squared his shoulders. “In the meantime, go home. Take care of yer own and stay safe. And be on yer guard. No telling what this bastard’s got up his sleeve.”
“SIT DOWN,” Forest ordered Connor for the third time that evening, pushing his lover back down onto the couch after he came back from the kitchen. “The drops go in its eyes or it gets the hose.”
“I would pay money to see you try to beat me with a hose,” Con grumbled back.
It was late, and Connor’d been lounging in the family room, debating if he should call it a night and sleep. A look at his bare-chested lover in loose sweats changed his mind. There were other things he could be doing besides sleeping, most of them centering on Forest.
“I wouldn’t be the one doing the beating,” Forest countered. “I’ll call your mom and ask her to do it.”
“Oh, wickedly unfair there, boyo.” The man laid on his accent thickly, but he eased back, resting his head on the cushions. “Okay, do your worst.”
“Hold on. I forgot a towel.” Forest patted Con’s chest. “Do not get off the couch.”
He waited, still staring up at the ceiling, for Forest to return. When the man finally found a clean hand towel to use, he sat on the couch next to Connor, yelping when Con dragged him over to sit on his legs.
“Least you can do is ride me while you do this.” He stroked at Forest’s sides, spanning his hands around to the small of his lover’s back.