Van
“I'm telling you what the state patrol officer just told me," I said to Rob Landon, the private detective. “Julia's number is pinging in Ironwood, Michigan."
“It wasn't Phillip. I've been tailing him since this morning."
Letting out a long breath, I sat back against my desk chair. “You're sure? You have visual confirmation?" Yes, I wanted evidence. I wanted more than that. I wanted my brother's head on a f*****g platter. That sounded a little Old Testament. Nevertheless, it seemed appropriate—brother against brother.
“Unless you're staying at the DoubleTree," Rob said, “it's him."
My jaw ached from all the clenching. “And you haven't lost sight of him?"
“He went back to his room after lunch. I can tell you what he ordered."
“I don't give a f**k about his diet. I want to know h
