Read Online Circle Eight Millennium: Lazarus by Beth Williamson - Free Book Online

one thing that still remained from the first of the family to settle on the ranch was the table. It was a massive piece of furniture hewn from wide planks and sat at least fifteen people. The benches were also original. The elder Graham was setting down a carafe of coffee and three cups.
    “Do you take cream or sugar, Beatrice?”
    She nodded. “Both, please.”
    Laz stood there, gazing at the room with what she surmised was longing. He’d missed his home. and rightfully so. Perhaps this day would change his banishment, self-imposed or not, and he could come back where he belonged.
    The three of them settled at the table and busied themselves fixing the coffee just so. Beatrice pointed at the flyer.
    “Let me tell you why that expo is important.” She relayed the background of the five burglaries and the theory they were connected through the expo attendees.
    Mr. Graham frowned, his silver eyebrows in a sharp V. “You’re saying I invited a thief into my house?”
    “I don’t know, but if we could look at a list of the attendees, we can find out if we’re right about how the crimes are connected.” Bea looked at Laz, whose gaze had not left his coffee.
    The air almost shimmered with tension as the two Graham men sat across from each other. Neither one looked at the other and somehow she was stuck between them.
    “Do you have the records?” she prompted.
    Jeremiah nodded. “I do. It will take a few minutes to find it. Don’t use computers or nothing. It’s all in my filing cabinet.”
    “Maybe we could go look?”
    “Yep, I suppose we could.” The older man got to his feet, taking the cup with him.
    When he left the room, Bea met Laz’s gaze, his expression hard to read. “Do you want to stay here?”
    He shook his head. “No. I gotta see this through.”
    They followed Mr. Graham through the house and down the hallway. The man’s office had always been off-limits when they’d been kids. It was a masculine domain with dark wood paneling and a huge bookcase full of books of varying shapes and sizes. A fern that had seen better days sat on a plant stand by the big window where sunshine streamed in.
    A tall, black filing cabinet sat in one corner where Jeremiah stood, gazing at the open drawer. He sipped at the coffee as he walked his fingers across the manila folders.
    “Was anything stolen?” he asked.
    “Some, but the son of a bitch did more damage than he stole.” She was bitterer about the personal nature of the crime than the money. Insurance would pay for most of it, but it wouldn’t mend the pain at the destruction of her family’s store.
    “Then we need to find him.”
    “Yes, sir, we do.” Laz finally spoke. “If we’re right, he’s done the same thing to four other businesses.”
    “Is that right?” Jeremiah glanced at his son. “We, is it? You two partners?”
    Bea felt her cheeks heat while Laz cleared his throat.
    “Something like that. She was smart enough to figure out this lead.”
    This time his father turned completely to look at him, his gaze probing. “You wouldn’t have come out here if not for Beatrice?”
    To his credit, Laz didn’t blink or stammer. “No, sir, probably not.”
    Jeremiah went back to looking through the folders until he found what he was looking for. He handed it to her and left the room, coffee in hand.
    She pointed her thumb toward the door. “That’s your cue, Ranger. Take care of your past or you won’t get a chance at the future.”
    Bea sat at the desk, the creek of leather beneath her and the smell of pipe tobacco filled the air around her. She didn’t look at Laz but she heard him exit the room.
    Lazarus had never been a coward, or at least he never thought so. Facing his father had taken balls. Leaving the Circle Eight ten years earlier had been the act of a boy, scared and humiliated by his actions.
    Beatrice had bullied him into coming but he was glad of it. Or at least he would be after his gut settled down. The coffee he’d drunk