We were driving again before I brought it up.  "You're getting into that habit again.  Keeping things from me.  I know you think it's to protect me, but I want to know the truth more than I want to be protected, and I think you owe it to me to start respecting that." 

He just nodded, mouth tight.  "I do.  I know it.  And I'll bring you up to speed on everything tonight.  If it makes you feel better, I don't even know some of it.  Bastian's been doing some dirty work of his own, but he seems to think he has a solution for us."  

It was becoming clear that Dante had nothing on Bastian in the scheming department.  It was almost impressive.  One thing was for sure, they were both, without question Durants.

The hotel was only twenty minutes away.  Bastian was on the top floor, and he didn't have a room, he had a penthouse suite.  And he wasn't alone. 

He opened the door for us and led us straight into a large room with a bar. 

A bar and a drunk Leo. 

"Oh God, why is he here?" just sort of slipped out.  Because Leo.

He shot me a very unfriendly look. 

I returned it in spades. 

"You can all hate each other later," Bastian said reasonably.  "Right now, you need to work together.  Leo has some pieces of this puzzle and a vested interest in seeing justice done.  Isn't that right, Leo?" 

He glared at his favorite son.  His normally styled, dirty blond hair was sticking out all over the place, eyes squinting, his clothing askew.  He looked ridiculous.  "Em your dad.  You're s'posedta call me Dad."

I arched a brow at Bastian.  "Oh yeah, he seems to be in a very helpful state." 

Bastian grinned and shrugged.  "He'll sober up eventually.  In the meantime, we have a whole lot of ground to cover without him.  So Adelaide tried to grab you off the set?" 

"More or less," I said tensely. 

Dante and I still hovered at the entrance of the room, not advancing, not sitting, just standing side by side with near identical poses, arms crossed over our chests. 

When I realized how we'd copied each other, I almost smiled. 

Bastian was even more amused.  He waved a hand back and forth at the two of us.  "Feeling a little defensive?  There's no need to be.  Come on in.  Make yourselves comfortable.  Have a seat.  Have a drink."

Well, he was certainly in good spirits.  I sincerely hoped that meant he had some good news for us all.  

Dante and I looked at each other. 

"We're fine."

"We're fine."  We said it almost in tandem. 

My mouth twisted wryly.  Dante grinned.  We'd been spending a lot of time together lately, and it was starting to show.  Like old times.

"Have it your way."  Bastian waved us off.  "But don't say I didn't warn you; you might want to be sitting down for some of this."

He took a deep breath and began, "I strongly suspect, and have since it happened, that Adelaide killed Gram.  Or at least, had her killed." 

I was floored.  The thought had never even occurred to me.  I don't know why.  No one had ever accused me of not being paranoid and suspicious. 

But it had still never crossed my mind.   

I looked at Dante and found some comfort in the fact that he looked just as floored.

"It is a very hard thing to prove, but I have found a lead that's given me some hope that we'll see justice done for this.  There's just one small hiccup in my plan.  Or there was.  I think I've got a handle on her now, but you're going to have to trust me here."

His wording was off, wrong somehow, but that wasn't what either of us focused on.

"I thought it was proven that Gram had a stroke," said Dante.

Bastian's mouth twisted.  "It's complicated.  There was extreme trauma to the back of her skull, and the coroner told us this was done post-mortem, meaning she had a stroke, fell, and hit her head, which is on its own suspect, because according to experts, generally you'd fall forward, not backward, so I certainly had some questions.  But said coroner has since disappeared.  Whether he was buried in the woods for knowing too much or given enough money to retire in Fiji, we have not been able to figure out."

"Adelaide," I breathed, feeling murderous. 

"That fuckin' cunt," Leo said from the sofa where he was still drunkenly sprawled.  "She was ne'er even worth the trouble.  Terrble inbed."

"Nice contribution, princess," I told him, because Leo. 

"You're a fucki—" he began. 

"No," Dante was shaking his head.  "Not fucking happening.  Say another word to her, Leo, and see how much I don't have a problem beating your drunken ass." 

Leo glared at me for that.  "She started it." 

He had a point. 

Bastian sighed.  "Back to the point, I've been chasing that trail since the funeral.  Exhaustively.  I'd just about given up hope.  But then something even better came along."  He smiled and there was triumph in it.  "I've secured some additional insurance.  For both of our issues, ironically enough.  It wasn't cheap, but some things are worth paying heavily for."  For some reason his eyes were sad and on me as he said it.  He cleared his throat, and called out, "Tiffany!" 

CHAPTER

THIRTY-NINE

"Enemies are so stimulating."