Brody’s brow furrowed as he spoke the words, and I had an urge to smooth the wrinkles that formed there. “You don’t trust that she’s gone away quietly.”
“It’s pretty unlike her. But then again, I’ve never struck back at her. Maybe she finally learned her lesson.”
I hoped that was the case. The last thing Brody needed was someone else turning his life upside down. Things around the island had been quiet for the past week, but everyone was still on alert. No killer had been found. People traveled in groups at night, and everyone locked their doors instead of leaving them open as they often did.
We pulled our mail from the boxes and headed back out to the street. As we walked towards The General Store, my steps faltered. I felt heat on my face, an invisible energy pouring into me. I glanced around and came to a halt as I caught sight of Sam across the street. His eyes locked on Brody and me, his gaze zeroed in on the place where Brody’s arm rested across my shoulders.
“Ignore him and keep moving,” Brody instructed.
I forced my feet to take one step and then another, but they were robotic, as if I’d never made the movements before. “Have you heard whether he had an alibi for the second murder?”
The quick movement of Brody’s eyes told me that he had. I squeezed his side. “Don’t hide things from me.”
“Things have been good for the past few days. I didn’t want to sour the mood.”
He was right, things had been good. They’d felt lighter. As if the clouds had parted in the midst of a storm to give us a break. “I get it, but I deserve to know what’s happening.”
Brody pressed his lips to the top of my head as we rounded the store and headed for the dock. “You do. Griffin told me that Sam has an airtight alibi. And, unlike the first murder, he doesn’t have much of a connection to the victim.”
Disappointment flooded me, and on its heels, guilt. That I wanted Sam to be the one who had killed these men. Because it was somehow easier. Safer than some unknown person wreaking havoc on our little island. Bile crept up my throat, and I took slow, deep breaths to steady myself. By the time we reached the boat, my stomach had settled.
We set our haul of goods on the dock, and Brody climbed onto the Whaler so I could hand things over to him one at a time. As he stowed the bags below deck, I boarded. But my foot caught on a rope, and I stumbled, the mail in my hands sprawling across the deck. I muttered a series of curses that had Brody chuckling as he reappeared. “That’s enough to make a sailor blush.”
I scowled at the rope. “It was out to get me.”
“They usually are.” Brody picked up a few pieces of mail at his feet. “Here you—” He froze as his eyes zeroed in on a thick, padded envelope. “Hell.”
My stomach that had calmed just moments ago was a riot of unease again. I knew without asking, but somehow I couldn’t keep myself from giving voice to the question. “Michael?”
“I don’t want you to open it. I know you have to, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to throw it into the water.”
I crossed the boat, wrapping my arms around Brody’s waist and pressing my face into his chest. The sound of his heart, the feel of the beat against my cheek, it soothed. It didn’t take away the anger and fear, but it did let me know that I didn’t have to face those things alone. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. But that doesn’t mean I want you to have to handle it.”
I pulled back, taking the envelope from his hand. “Better to get it over with.” I tore at the seal before Brody could try and stop me. Pulling the paper free, I scanned the words.
Sissy,
You never wrote me back. You used to write me all the time. Visit, too. What changed? Did someone tell you lies about me? Aunt Georgie, maybe? Maybe I should pay her a visit and have a chat.
I hope you haven’t forgotten me, replaced me with other friends. That would hurt my feelings, and I can’t always control myself when I’m angry. See you soon, sissy.
Love,
Michael
My stomach twisted painfully. I’d have to call Aunt Georgie and warn her. She’d moved out of state once she knew that Michael would be released, but she needed a heads-up regardless. My gaze focused in on one sentence. “I hope you haven’t forgotten me, replaced me with other friends.”
I tipped the envelope again, and a broken violin bow fell out. It could’ve been any bow, but I knew what it was meant to reference. He’d even etched my name into the side. Since I was eight, my parents had started getting me personalized bows. I could still hear the snap of wood when Michael broke one. The flash of anger. The sting of a blow when he saw me enjoying my music too much.
I battled the fear. Concentrated on the sound of the water. The smell of the salt air. Brody’s arms around me. I didn’t want to let my brother win. But he already had a foothold.
Brody cursed and pulled the paper out of my hand, shoving it into his back pocket. “You don’t need that shit in your head.”
But it was already there. Michael had made a home in my brain from the time he could speak. Maybe before. Sometimes, it felt as if he knew my mind better than I did. My hand fisted in Brody’s shirt. “It’s like he can sense when I’m happy. He has a radar for it. And if he wasn’t the one who made me that way, he’ll do anything to destroy it.”
If Michael knew about my new friends, playing violin at The Catch, the barbeques and shopping trips, he’d rip them all away. But if Michael knew about Brody…he wouldn’t stop until Brody was dead.
33
Brody
I watched as Shay shut down. Felt powerless as all the light in her eyes, those dancing golden flecks, simply drained away. I steered the boat towards Harbor. I wanted her home. Our home. Where I could hold her in my arms and tell her that everything would be okay.
But I wasn’t so sure it would be. She’d have to be free of Michael first, and I wasn’t sure how that was possible. It wasn’t enough for him to have stolen her parents. To leave her with physical reminders of the loss that she had to look at every day. Reminders of the pain he’d carved into her flesh.
I gripped the wheel harder in one hand as I slowed our approach, easing the boat alongside the dock. Shay moved with a robotic air, helping me tie off the vessel and grab the bags and other supplies. She was completely silent as she walked up to the house. Not a sound passed her lips as we put the groceries away.
When we were done, she looked at me without actually meeting my gaze. “I’m going to work on prepping the garden beds.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She bristled at my tone. Good. Frustrated and angry was better than this zombie who’d been staring back at me for the past hour. She glared in my direction. “Is that an order from my boss?”
“It’s an order from the person who cares about you.” But care wasn’t the right word. I was so much more than that. “The person who hates that every ounce of life slipped from you as you read that note. The person who wants you to fight.”
The annoyance fled from Shay’s face, replaced by what I could only describe as bone-deep sorrow. “I don’t know if I can. I want to. But I don’t know how to even start. And everything just seems so pointless. Hopeless.”