"And he watched me ask. He watched me leave the chapter. He heard me say I couldn't keep riding under a man who treated people like property. He knew why I was angry, and he still let me think Evan had simply walked away."
Tuck said nothing. Briggs shifted his weight. The gravel made a small cracking sound beneath his boot.
Cole turned around. "What does Cain want me to do?"
"Meet him tomorrow. Listen to what he has. He says there are details you don't understand."
"He could have told me those details eight years ago."
"Maybe he couldn't."
Cole stared at Tuck. "You believe that?"
Tuck lowered his cigarette. "I believe there's more going on than either of us has been told. I don't know what to believe about the rest."
"Why send two people for one conversation?"
Briggs answered quietly. "Cain said you might be in a complicated situation. He said we should be ready to help."
Cole nearly laughed. "Help me. After eight years of silence."
"I'm repeating what he told us," Briggs said. "I didn't say I liked it."
Cole looked back at the diner window. Mara and Eli were visible through the streaked glass, the mother angled protectively toward her son, both waiting. He felt an immediate need to keep them out of a conversation that was beginning to look less like old grief and more like ongoing danger.
"Why did you look at the boy?" he asked Tuck.
Tuck's gaze flickered. "What?"
"When you came in, you looked straight at my booth. Not just me. Him. Then you looked at Mara. Who told you they would be here?"
"Cain knows Mara has been asking questions for months."
"That isn't an answer."
"He knew she was somewhere in this area. He didn't know she'd be sitting with you. Not until we saw her."
"Which means now he will."
Tuck did not deny it. Cole watched his old friend's face closely. The difficulty in Tuck's expression was real. It did not make the information less alarming.
"What questions?" Cole asked.
"I don't know the specifics. Cain said she was getting close to something."
"Getting close to what?"
"He didn't tell us."
"Then tell him he'll have my answer tomorrow. On my schedule, not his."
"He expects you in the morning."
"Expectations aren't orders. I don't wear his chapter patch anymore."
Tuck dropped the cigarette, crushed it beneath his boot, and gave Cole a weary look. "I know you don't trust him. I don't blame you. Just be careful about assuming you're the only person who wants answers."
"I'm not assuming anything. I'm looking at the people standing in front of me."
Briggs opened his mouth, then closed it. The smaller act of restraint told Cole almost as much as words might have. Something was wrong beyond what Tuck had admitted, and Briggs knew enough to be troubled by it.
"You're not just messengers," Cole said.
Tuck met his eyes. "We're the two men who came because Cain asked. That's what I can tell you."