"Speak No Evil" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brennan Allison)

FOURTEEN

AS SOON AS HE ARRIVED BACK at his brother’s apartment, Nick confronted Steve. “You lied to me.”

Steve frowned, rubbed his chin. “I’ve never lied to you, Nick.”

“Bullshit.” Nick had been harboring anger for the entire drive back from the police station. Partly because of the unnerving information he’d learned about Angie’s torture and death, and partly because his brother wasn’t the man he’d always believed him to be.

“You lied to me about Angie being the only college girl you dated.”

“I think you have it wrong.” But Steve averted his eyes. Lying.

Nick sat down. This wasn’t going like he had planned. He tried to remain as calm as possible. “Steve, sit down. Please.”

Steve stiffly sat in the chair across from Nick. Nick saw the lines framing his brother’s eyes, his tanned skin looking dry and leathery. Too much fun in the sun. Steve still had a full head of hair, but it was starting to recede at the temple, a few silvery strands mixed into the sandy blond.

“Steve, I want to help you. That’s why you asked me to come down here.”

“Not to accuse me of lying.”

“It’s not an accusation, Steve. You did lie to me. You said Angie Vance was the only girl at the college you had a relationship with. I know for a fact that you also slept with Jodi Carmichael.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “It was just once. Twice. I know I should have said no, but she’d just broken up with her boyfriend and I was consoling her and one thing led to another…”

Nick glanced around Steve’s apartment, unable to look him in the eye. The medals, newspapers, commendations. Once upon a time Steve had been a hero, on top of the world. After being injured, what had happened to him?

“You haven’t grown up,” Nick said, surprising himself when he heard his voice. He hadn’t meant to voice his fear. Fear that his brother was spiraling down into a fantasy life that only existed in his mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about you, Steve.” He waved at the walls. “You’re living in the past. You’re still savoring the best part of your life, a part that ended fifteen years ago. You were a hero-you still are a hero. But an older hero. You haven’t lived since you’ve returned to the States. You haven’t done anything with your life except wish you were still twenty-one years old. And that’s what you’ve been acting like.”

“How would you know? You don’t know me.”

“You’re wrong, Steve. I know who you were, and I know who you are now. But you’re not the same brother who left Montana twenty years ago.”

“Everyone changes.”

“True. They usually grow up.”

“The Butcher really did a number on you, didn’t he?” The abrupt change of subject startled Nick. He hadn’t expected Steve to attack, and he was speechless.

“That’s why you’re ready to believe the worst of me,” Steve continued, standing, pointing a finger at Nick. “You’re the one with a problem. Just because you lost the only woman you ever loved doesn’t mean I can’t find someone to love.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Nick rose, slowly, his anger rising. His own past relationships had nothing to do with his brother’s current situation.

But Steve was on a roll. “That’s what this is about. You’re ticked off because I have meaningful relationships with women who care about me.”

“Meaningful? How many of these meaningful relationships have you had in just the last six months?”

Steve continued as if Nick hadn’t spoken. “And you’re still pining after the woman who got away. Who’s pathetic here, Nick? I have what I want, do you?”

Deep down Nick knew Steve had changed the subject to avoid talking about himself. Going on the attack was a standard ploy to keep the attention off him, but Steve’s question startled Nick and he couldn’t help but think about what he’d gained, and what he’d lost, after the Butcher investigation.

He pushed those thoughts aside. “Steve, you lied to me and you lied to the police. How can I trust you?”

“Maybe you never trusted me.”

“Don’t twist this around, Steve.”

“I can’t believe this,” Steve said, avoiding the conversation once again.

Nick had just about had it with his brother. “Just tell me you didn’t kill Angie.”

Steve jerked his head back, staring wide-eyed at Nick. “You sound like you think I did it.”

“I don’t think you killed her, but I want you to look me in the eye and tell me the truth for once. Did you have anything to do with Angie’s death?” Nick didn’t believe his brother was guilty, especially after Dr. Kincaid’s analysis, but Steve had goaded him, and Nick had reacted.

He also wanted to hear it from Steve’s mouth, without excuses, without lies.

Steve started pacing. “You think…you think I could do something so cruel? That I would rape a woman?”

“You lied to the police about what time you were at the Sand Shack on Friday night.”

“I forgot.” Again, he was lying.

“Dammit, Steve!” He took two steps across the room and spun his brother to face him. He held him by the shoulders, forced him to look in his eyes. “How can I help you if you keep lying to me?”

“Whose side are you on?” Steve asked through clenched teeth.

“I want to be on yours. But do you know how bad it looks to the police if you lie to them?”

“It’s not important.”

“Hell yes it is!” Nick released Steve. “I think you should get a lawyer and talk to the police. Tell them everything-everything-about your relationship with Angie, why you broke up, when you knew about her journal, how much time you spent there, what you know about deleted comments…”

“Deleted comments?”

“Yes. Everything. If you cooperate, maybe we can catch her killer.”

“Cooperate! I’ve been cooperating from day one.”

“You’ve been lying through your teeth so that you look like the hero you used to be, not the man you are today.”

Nick wanted to take the words back. The shock, the hurt, on Steve’s face hit Nick in the gut.

They stared at each other in silence. “I’ll talk to them. Tomorrow morning. Set it up.” Steve turned and walked toward his bedroom. Looking over his shoulder he said, “You might want to find another place to stay. My couch isn’t very comfortable.”

He slammed his bedroom door.

That certainly hadn’t gone as Nick planned.

As he packed up his laptop, Nick realized Steve didn’t think of himself as a thirty-eight-year-old man. He held close to the image that he was a young, twenty-one-year-old war hero who fit in at college. And in some ways he did, because he certainly acted like an irresponsible, immature kid. Dating college-aged girls was Steve’s way of holding on to the illusion that he was young. Since he’d given up his own college years to the military, this was Steve’s way of changing the past.

But fifteen years was a long time to grow up.

How could Nick help Steve see that he was living a lie? Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe it would take a severe jolt to his ego to make him realize that he didn’t fit with the college crowd, that he needed to grow up, get a job, do something other than go to school for the rest of his life.

Nick just didn’t know how he could help.

As he walked out the door, Nick felt a deep chill penetrate his bones, and not from the late-afternoon breeze.

Steve had never answered his question about whether or not he’d killed Angie.