Duncan frowned at her and stepped back.

She couldn’t help chuckling. “Don’t worry. It’s not contagious. I think weird things from time to time. You won’t catch it by being in the room.” She stopped babbling and cleared her throat. “As to my brother, he doesn’t live here.”

Duncan frowned. “But this is his house.”

Was it just her or was Duncan not the brightest bulb? “He doesn’t live here,” she repeated, speaking more slowly. Maybe it was all the muscles. Too much blood in the biceps and not enough in the brain.

“I got that, Ms. McCoy. Does he own the house? He told me he did.”

Annie didn’t like the sound of that. She crossed to the club chair by the door and grabbed hold of the back. “No. This is my house.” She felt more than a little panicked and slightly sick to her stomach. “Why are you asking?”

“Do you know where your brother is?”

“Not at the moment.”

This was bad, she thought frantically. She could tell it was really bad. Duncan Patrick didn’t look like the kind of man who dropped by on a whim. Which meant Tim had done something especially stupid this time.

“Just tell me,” she said quickly. “What did he do?”

“He embezzled from my company.”

The room tilted slightly. Annie’s stomach lurched and she wondered if she was going to join little Cody in throwing up on her skirt.

Tim had stolen from his employer. She wanted to ask how that was possible, but she already knew the answer. Tim had a problem. He loved to gamble. Loved it way too much. Living only a five-hour drive from Las Vegas made the problem even more complicated.

“How much?” she asked in a whisper.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

Her breath caught. It might as well be a million. Or ten. That was too much money. An impossible amount to pay back. He was ruined forever.

“I can see by the look on your face, you didn’t know about his activities.”

She shook her head. “The last I heard, he loved his job.”