19
Laney
We got backto the Connery estate a little before three o’clock. Adam’s bedroom door was locked, and he didn’t answer when we knocked, so we assumed he was still at school or out with Trinasomewhere.
Just as we were about to call him, one of the maids passed us in the hall outside hisroom.
“Are you looking for your brother?” she asked, brows raised as she looked atHunter.
He nodded. “Yeah, but I think he’s still atschool.”
She shook her head. “No, he’s home. That’s why I asked,” she said. “He’s up in the rooftopgarden.”
“Of course he fucking is,” Hunter muttered under his breath. “Returning to the scene of thecrime.”
The maid looked confused. “Sorry?”
“Nothing. Are you sure he’s still upthere?”
“Yes. I took some snacks up to him about fifteen minutes ago, and I haven’t seen him comedown.”
Hunter gave her a tight smile. “Thanks.”
We hurried up to the third floor, and he directed me into a room on the western edge. A narrow balcony outside led to a steep stone stairway. We headed up the steps, staying as quiet aspossible.
The evergreen garden lay on the left and right sides of a flat sandstone surface between two of the mansion’s elaborate spires. A few pieces of furniture sat in the middle—a wooden loveseat, a velveteen lounge, and a lowtable.
Adam was standing by the edge of the roof, peering into the distance. The carved stone balustrade barely reached his knees, and I was sorely tempted to run up to him and push him right over. I couldn’t, though. That would only drag me down to hislevel.
He turned his head over his shoulder when he heard us, and he flashed a bright grin in our direction. “Hey, come and look at this!” he said, turning back to look into the distance. “There’s a snowstorm in the mountains over there. You can see it fromhere.”
When we didn’t reply, he turned his head over his shoulder again. “What are you guys doing up here,anyway?”
“We came to talk to you,” Hunter said flatly. His hands were curled into tight fists at his sides, and I could tell by the hard set of his jaw that he was only seconds away from beating his brother into apulp.
Adam stepped over to us, still smiling and blissfully unaware. “Oh, cool. Help yourself to some food,” he said, motioning to a fruit and cheese platter on the table. He looked at me, brows knitting. “Did you hear anything from the police about yourcar?”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think his soft brown eyes were filled with genuineconcern.
“No,” I saidstiffly.
“Shit.” He scraped a hand through his hair. “They better fucking catch someone soon. It’s horrible knowing that there’s still someone out therewho—”
“Cut the shit, Adam,” Huntersnapped.
“Huh?” Adam’s eyes darted from his brother to me. “What’s goingon?”
Hunter pulled out Lindsay’s necklace and held it up in theair.
A flurry of emotions passed over Adam’s face as he looked at the dangling pendant. First there was confusion, followed by surprise, and then there was a mixture of worry, anguish anddesperation.
“You spoke to your mom?” he said in a low voice, looking at meagain.
I pursed my lips andnodded.
He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. His whole upper body seemed to deflate, shoulders drooping and chest sagging. “How much do you know?” he finally asked, opening hiseyes.
“I know you killed Lindsay,” Hunter said, taking two slow, deliberate steps forward. His hands were shaking with anger now, and his lips had flattened into a grimace. “I know you tried to kill Laneytoo.”