“But that’s so…” She scrunches her nose. “That’s disgusting! What the hell do they do with them? Keep them in a jar on the family mantel?”
“Well… no,” I chuckle. “That would be stupid.”
“So they just scoop them out? With spoons? With a damn ice cream scoop?”
Then she gasps. “Have you done that?” She pulls us to a stop and tugs me around. “You’ve killed on your father’s orders, Archer. Did you take anyone’s eyes?” She searches mine, desperate and imploring. “Have you ever—”
“No.” I lean in and smack a kiss to her stubborn jaw, then I tug her along and keep us moving.
It’s too cold to stay still for long, and discussing suchdelicatematters in public is a risky move.
“I was sixteen when I bolted, remember? He was working me up to it, but I didn’t go that far—no matter how many spoons I had access to.”
“Has Tim?” She lowers her voice just that bit more, while in my chest, my heart sprints faster.
“Your brother,” she clarifies. “He’s older than you, and you said he spent longer with the family. Did he do anything like that?”
I firm my lips and face the path straight ahead of us. “It wouldn’t be cool of me to snitch on my brother’s business like that.”
“So he did.” Her breath comes out on a gentle exhale. “Shit, Archer.”
“He’s seen a lot. He’s done a lot.” I take another bite of my burrito and lick my hand as oil and juice attempt to run free. “He probably loses sleep over the things he’s done, Minka. There’s a reason he won’t take Aubree to bed. I already told you that.”
“Oh my god,” she murmurs softly, disbelieving, as we continue our stroll.
We soon come upon a large garden of bushes. Trees grow in the middle, with dead underbrush that would make it impossible for a kid to run through without coming out the other side torn up with scratches.
“He’s just…” She shakes her head. “It’s so hard for me to acknowledge the sweet Tim I know is that…” She swallows. “Ya know. Like the killers on the news.”
“Some would probably say the same about you.” When we pass a trash can, I look down to consider my meal, then take one last bite and toss the rest away. “Sweet little Minka, the beautiful, nerdy doctor who wears a lab coat all day. The reason you get away with the shit you do is because no one would dare consider you a killer.”
“And the one time I did it for everyone to see, the mayor gave me a medal for bravery.” She snorts out an incredulous laugh. “Lawrence is seriously a strange man.”
“He might be old enough to be your dad, and maybe he’s married with kids, but he thinks you’re hot.” I wrap my arm over her shoulders and pull her in close as the wind picks up a little and the long strands of her hair whip backwards. “He thinks you’re the shit. You could come out publicly as the vigilante, and Lawrence would have merchandise made up for you.”
Of course Minka only smiles.
“I remind him of his daughters,” she counters. “Sure, he likes me—the way a father likes and tolerates his daughter’s shenanigans. It’s not a sexual attraction, but an acceptance that borders on blindness, the way he would let his girls get away with whatever the hell they want.”
Peeling back more of her dinner, she looks up at me and grins. “You might be right about the merchandise, though.”
“Not that we’ll test the theory and snitch you out to the authorities,” I add. “I don’t have room in my life for that shit.”
“Some things are best left unsa—”
“Wait.” I pull Minka back and reach down to where I would usually have a gun strapped to my thigh. But my pistols are back in the truck.
“What are you… Archer?” She tries to step around me. “What are you doing?”
“Over there.” I keep hold of her, keep her back and safe on my side of the path, but I nod toward the overgrown garden.
Because lying amidst roses and thorns and an ugly, berry-covered bush, are a pair of bare feet, exposed to the cold and sporting the grayish pallor of death.
“Shit.” Reaching into my pocket, I snag my phone and dial 9-1-1.
“Crap.” Tugging herself free of my grasp, Minka slaps her leftovers into my empty hand and crosses the sidewalk to come closer to the dead body.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”