Bear crossed the remaining distance and grabbed him.
The embrace was not gentle.
Bear wrapped both arms around his younger brother and pulled him against his chest, holding him so tightly that Michael let out a surprised breath.
For one second, Michael remained stiff.
Then his arms closed around Bear's back.
Bear felt his brother's shoulders shaking.
He heard a quiet, broken whisper near his ear.
“I'm sorry.”
Bear held him tighter.
“You should be.”
Michael gave a short laugh that sounded dangerously close to a sob.
Bear pushed him back just far enough to look at his face.
“Six years.”
“I know.”
“Six years, Michael.”
“I know.”
“I buried you.”
Michael lowered his eyes.
“I know.”
Bear's jaw tightened.
“I stood beside a marker with your name on it.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“I thought the last thing I ever said to you was that you were a coward.”
Michael's face crumpled.
Bear stared at him.
“You remember that?”
“Every day.”
For a moment, Bear looked as though he might strike him.
Instead, he pulled Michael into another embrace.
Mason turned away, wiping his face with the heel of his hand.
Cole suddenly became fascinated by a motorcycle tire.
Doc lowered his eyes.
The workshop was quiet except for the sound of the brothers breathing.
When Bear finally stepped back, he kept one hand on Michael's shoulder, as though he was afraid his brother might disappear if he let go.
“Where were you?”
Michael looked at Doc.
Then at Bear.
“Running.”
“From Harold?”
“At first.”
“And after that?”
“From whoever took over what he built.”
Bear's expression hardened.
“Harold is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you still running?”
Michael looked toward the open doors.
“Because Harold wasn't the only person involved.”
Bear felt a familiar chill.
“Who else?”
Michael rubbed a hand over his face.
“That's what I've been trying to find out.”
He glanced at Doc.
“Can we sit down?”
Bear shook his head.
“Not until you tell me one thing.”
Michael waited.
“Why didn't you come home?”
Michael's face changed.
For the first time since arriving, he looked genuinely uncertain.
“I wanted to.”
“Then why didn't you?”
“Because I thought they would use you to get to me.”
Bear's anger rose.
“You didn't get to decide that for me.”
Michael nodded slowly.
“No. I didn't.”
The absence of an argument weakened Bear's anger more than any explanation could have.
Michael continued.
“I know what I did to you. I know what it cost you. I can tell you why I made those decisions, but I can't make them right.”
Bear stared at him.
“Then start talking.”
Michael sat on the edge of the workbench.
He looked at Doc, who gave a small nod.
Then Michael began.
“Six years ago, I was working for a construction company that handled several projects in western Pennsylvania. I did the books, managed invoices, and kept track of payments.”
Bear folded his arms.
“You were a bookkeeper?”
Michael nodded.
“I was good with numbers. Better than I was with people.”
“That hasn't changed.”
Michael gave a faint smile.
“No. It hasn't.”
For the first time, Bear saw something familiar in his brother's face.
The same dry humor.
The same stubbornness.
The same ability to make a joke when everything seemed to be falling apart.
Then the smile disappeared.
“One of the companies we worked with started making payments to Northway Protective Services. The amounts were strange. Some payments were repeated. Others went to accounts that didn't appear on any legitimate business records.”
“Money laundering?”
“Partly.”
“What else?”
Michael looked at the floor.
“People.”
Bear went still.
Michael continued.
“Northway provided transportation services to hospitals and private medical facilities. They had contracts with several institutions, including St. Vincent Regional. Their paperwork looked legitimate. Their drivers wore uniforms. Their vehicles were properly registered. They knew how to move through a hospital without attracting attention.”
Bear thought of Daniel Voss.
“They moved patients.”
“Some patients. Some people who weren't patients at all.”
“Under false identities?”
Michael nodded.
“Sometimes the records were changed after the fact. Sometimes a person was admitted under a temporary identity and later listed as deceased. Sometimes the paperwork was arranged so that somebody could disappear without leaving an obvious trail.”
Bear felt sick.
“How many people?”
Michael shook his head.
“I don't know. That's what I was trying to find out.”
“Why?”
“Because at first, I thought it was fraud. Then I found a record connected to someone who was supposed to be dead but had been seen months later.”
Bear stared at him.
“And you started investigating.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling anybody?”
“I told one person.”
“Who?”
Michael looked toward Doc.
“Harold.”
Bear's face hardened.
“Why would you tell Harold?”
“Because he was the club president. He had connections everywhere. I thought he could help me figure out what was happening.”
“And instead?”
Michael's eyes darkened.
“Instead, he asked me to hand over the documents.”
Bear waited.
“I refused.”
“Why?”
“Because the records included names of people who were still alive. I didn't know who was involved, and I didn't want the evidence disappearing.”
Bear looked toward the boxes.
“You kept copies.”
“Yes.”
“And then the accident happened.”
Michael nodded.
“It wasn't an accident.”
The words were quiet.
But they changed the room.
Bear felt his hands curl.
“What do you mean?”
Michael looked directly at him.
“The brakes on my motorcycle had been tampered with.”
Mason swore.
Bear took a step forward.
“Who did it?”
“I don't know. I was riding through a rural stretch of road when the brakes failed. I went over the side of a hill. I broke several bones, damaged my face, and lost consciousness.”
Bear's voice became rough.
“You nearly died.”
“Yes.”
“Who found you?”
“Voss.”
Bear looked toward the open doors.
“The ambulance driver?”
Michael nodded.
“He was working for Northway at the time. He was supposed to transport me to a hospital under the name on my identification. But by then, he had already become suspicious of the records he was being asked to handle.”
Michael paused.
“He recognized my name from one of the documents he'd been told to carry.”
Bear listened without speaking.