Upstairs, Lucian was still awake.
When Tarquin showed up at his door, Lucian didn’t look the least bit surprised. He ushered him in, set the kettle on, and poured two mugs of steaming black tea.
“I’m guessing you’re here about Verity’s son?” Lucian’s voice was hoarse, his whole face tired and drawn.
Tarquin nodded. “I just found out he’s your son.”
Lucian’s eyes went glassy with unshed tears. “Yeah, he is. Or—was.”
“But… I never heard about you and Verity being together.”
Lucian let out a long, shuddering breath. “It was never supposed to happen. It was an accident.”
“After your father cut ties with the Bradfords, only Verity kept in touch. She’d visit him in Europe all the time.”
“That kid—my son—was conceived during one of those trips.”
“There was a dinner, too much wine, and… well, one thing led to another. Suddenly Verity was pregnant.”
“I didn’t know about the baby. Not until someone came knocking, using the kid to blackmail me—threatening that if I ever talked about Hill Valley, there’d be consequences. That’s when I found out he existed.”
“I tried asking Verity, but she refused to tell me where he was or let me have anything to do with him. So I hired a private investigator, kept the search quiet. Only just found out where he was a few days ago. That’s why I rushed off to the hospital.”
Tarquin’s brow furrowed. Whoever had threatened Lucian—that had to be the mysterious stranger. Only that person would want to keep Hill Valley’s secrets buried, to poison Keith Garcia against Kendrick.
He pressed, “Do you know who threatened you back then?”
Lucian shook his head. “No idea. Never met him. He only called. Used a burner phone, too.”
“Albert—did my dad have any brothers? Half-brothers, maybe?”
Lucian blinked, then shook his head. “Nope. I grew up with your dad, know him better than anyone. No brothers.”
Tarquin’s mind raced. So the stranger must have disguised himself to frame his dad. But why go to all that trouble?
The stranger had spent years grooming Keith, manipulating Lucian and Verity with the existence of the secret son—all because of his father.
What grudge did he hold against his father? Or… was Tarquin chasing the wrong lead entirely?
He pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked up. “Albert, do you know how my parents really died? I know they were murdered. Verity was involved, but she didn’t mastermind it.”
Lucian’s expression hardened, and he let out a ragged breath. “It had something to do with a research project. That much I’m sure of.”
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