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The day seemed to go from bright to gray as a lone cloud passed over the sun. “Look, Nate, don’t you go all weird on me, too, okay? I have no idea what happened to Neville, but he’s not skulking around knocking off the rest of my family.”

“Why did he leave?” Travis asked.

“I’ve asked myself that a million times,” Shannon said wearily. “I think…I have to assume that he’s dead.” Neither man said a word. “Wait a minute…No. Even if Neville is still alive, he would never kill Oliver. Or Mary Beth. That’s enough of this! You,” she said, pointing to Nate, “need to talk to the police, tell them what you know and please, for the love of God, try not to incriminate my family!” She started for the door, wanting this conversation to be over, when Nate’s voice stopped her short.

“Didn’t Oliver tell you that he’d seen Brendan Giles recently?”

“Yes, but so what?”

“Brendan’s in Nicaragua,” he said as Khan trotted onto the porch.

“Oh, please. How do you know that?” She was starting to think Nate was going off his rocker.

“I talked to his parents.”

“And they told you?” She remembered that neither of Brendan’s folks had bothered to return her calls. Or had they? Had they called and Nate picked up the phone? “They refused to talk to me.”

“I visited them in person, told them I was a private investigator and that if they didn’t talk with me I would go to the police, have the cops come and start talking to them. So they decided to open up, tell me what they knew. I saw pictures and e-mails.”

?

?Which anyone could create from anywhere,” Travis pointed out as he leaned against the panels of the front door. “Fake photos are easy to come by, and with all the digital imaging and computers that are available now, it wouldn’t be hard to create an e-mail address that looks like it comes from a third world country. Not if you were technically savvy at all.”

Nate nodded. “That’s true, but I believed these people. I don’t think they were harboring their son. They told me that they haven’t actually seen him in over ten years.”

“And suddenly he’s contacting them. At this time? Damned coincidental, don’t you think?”

“They’ve been communicating with him for four years,” Nate said. “Even before Ryan was killed. Long before this new spate of fires. The Gileses just haven’t broadcast that they’ve been in contact with Brendan.”

“And why would that be?” Shannon asked.

“They didn’t say, but I think they’re worried that he’s involved in something illegal. Maybe drugs.”

“Oh, great,” Shannon muttered, throwing up a hand. “This is just getting better and better.”

“So the point is, why would Oliver lie to you about seeing Brendan?”

“He didn’t say he was certain, just that he thought he saw Brendan in church.”

“The Gileses aren’t Catholic,” Nate pointed out. “It was a smoke screen, Shannon. He was hiding something.”

She felt the need to defend her brother. “He isn’t…wasn’t the Stealth Torcher!”

“Agreed. Otherwise he’d still be alive. But I’m willing to bet that he knew who is and if Oliver knew, chances are that one of your other brothers knows as well.”

“Again with the conspiracy. Maybe you should apply for a job with the CIA.”

“Maybe I should.” Shooting her a killing glance, he reached into his pocket and yanked out his cell phone. “It’s a pretty simple matter to check out.” He held out the phone. “Let’s call Aaron.”

“What’s your plan?” Travis asked.

“Why Aaron?” Shannon demanded.

“Because he’s the firstborn. The oldest. Probably knows what’s going on.”

As he held the receiver toward her, Shannon could hear the dial tone. Her mind whirled. Firstborn. The oldest. Birth order. A cold sweat broke out on her skin and she felt a drip of dread. A recorded voice instructed the caller to hang up and try again, but what Shannon heard were the hushed whispers all the while she’d been growing up, the quickly stifled secrets. An icy chill sliced through her heart. Pieces that had been floating through her mind, teasing her, giving her headaches, started to tumble into place.

“Hang that up,” she ordered Nate, and when he didn’t immediately disconnect, repeated herself. “Hang it up now!”


Tags: Lisa Jackson West Coast Mystery