Sticks and Stones by Madeleine Urban ; Abigail Roux Read Free Book Online Page A

and smiled. “You can get a car up here, but you better hope the weather sticks.” Then he frowned and slowed the truck further. “Here we go,” he murmured as they topped the steep incline and a house came into view.
    Zane’s lips compressed. Ty was still edgy, and it was getting to him. He leaned forward to look out the windshield at what awaited them.
    The house was a classic old farmhouse, but well-kept, with a stone foundation, white siding, dormer windows on the second story, bright red shutters, and a matching tin roof. A porch wrapped around the entire front and side of the house, complete with an array of old rocking chairs and oversized stairs leading up to the front door. The outbuildings were in worse shape, the paint peeling slightly on the clapboard frames; some of them tilted precariously. Several of them were nothing but cedar beams and tin, while a few were cinderblock and much sturdier.
    In the gravel driveway were four other vehicles: a crew cab Ford F-150, a Chevy Blazer, an old Ford Ranger, and a brand new black Lexus coupe. Ty parked beside the Lexus and cocked his head, peering at it curiously.
    A man drew Zane’s attention when he came out onto the porch, pushing through the screen door and shielding his eyes as he stepped into the morning sun. He was young, much too young to be Ty’s father. He still bore a striking resemblance to Ty, though his hair was a little longer and lighter, and he was taller and thinner. He had to be Ty’s brother. The man thumped down the stairs, walking with a pronounced limp, and Ty opened up his door and slid out of the Bronco as he came closer.
    Taking his cue from Ty, Zane got out as well but stood just inside the door as he looked around at the towering trees that surrounded them. He tore his eyes away from them to watch Ty approach the house. He felt like he should hang back for now, at least until after the reunion.
    Ty grinned as he and his brother embraced. He gave the man an affectionate pat on his cheek and then turned and gestured for Zane to come closer.
    “’Bout time y’all got here,” Ty’s brother said to them.
    “Shut up,” Ty grunted at him. “Zane, this is my brother, Deacon,” he said with a wave of his hand at his brother. “This is Zane Garrett.”
    “Special Agent Zane Garrett, I assume,” Deacon said with emphasis as he stepped forward and took Zane’s hand, pumping it hard. His voice wasn’t as deep as Ty’s, but it still had that gravelly, drawling quality to it that Zane liked. “You can call me Deuce.”
    “Okay, Deuce,” Zane agreed. He liked him already; he seemed like a friendlier version of Ty. “Nice to meet you.”
    “Likewise,” Deuce drawled, grinning. “Come on in,” he invited as he turned and threw his arm around Ty’s shoulders. “Mom’s fluttering,” he said to his brother, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh.
    “As long as she’s cooking while she’s doing it,” Ty muttered. “I’m starving. Did you get a new car again?”
    “You like it?” Deuce asked.
    “No,” Ty answered candidly with a shake of his head and a glance back at the Lexus.
    “It has Bluetooth,” Deuce answered with a grin, unperturbed. Ty groaned and shook his head.
    Zane walked up the steps behind them, rubbing his hands together to ward off the slight morning chill. He’d pulled the jacket off when they’d gotten in the truck at the last rest stop. He’d known it would be cooler up here, but it had to be a good twenty degrees cooler here than in DC. He spared another look around and shook his head. It was so totally different from any other place he’d been—Washington, LA, Baltimore, New York. Texas. Especially Miami.
    Ty stopped at the door and looked back at him. “Welcome to West Virginia,” he murmured as he held the screen door open. The smell of frying bacon and fresh bread wafted out to them.
    Zane nodded and followed Ty inside, where it was quite a bit warmer, and the smell of the bread made his stomach