My Brother's Keeper

My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux

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“IT was a lovely service, dear.” “Thank you, Mrs. Hapscomb.” “If you boys need anything, you know where to come.” “Yes, sir, Mr. Fitzgerald, thank you.” “Such a shame, Brayden dear. It’s just such a shame.” “Yes, ma’am, Miss Mattie, it is.” The line went on and on; each of Coral Gables’ finest and, apparently, oldest, offering their condolences to the two brothers as they droned by in a procession of black lace and heavy tweed. During the first lull in the line, as Mr. and Mrs. Henderson VI tried desperately to disentangle Mother Henderson’s oxygen line from one of her wheelchair wheels, Addison Satterwight turned to glare at his half-brother. He pulled at his tie, betraying his twitchiness. “Told you we should have done a private ceremony,” he growled disconsolately under his breath. Brayden Bainbridge merely smiled serenely in response and wondered what the social repercussions would be for laughing hysterically at your own dearly departed father’s funeral. He thought it might be frowned upon, especially

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux when the object of hilarity was a little old lady slowly suffocating because she was too stubborn to take her hand off the “Forward” button on her high-tech, pedestrianflattening, motorized wheels. “Are you laughing?” Addison asked him incredulously through gritted teeth. “I’m honest to God trying not to,” Brayden answered in a high-pitched, wavering voice as he fought back the laughter. He covered the lower part of his face with one hand and lowered his head as the line began to move again. “Oh, my dear, the grief will pass,” Mrs. Henderson soothed as she took Brayden’s free hand and patted it with a sorrowful shake of her head. Brayden nodded and closed his eyes, covering his snorting with what he prayed was a believable sniffle.

ADDISON and Brayden sat alone in the back of the Town Car, lingering long after the funeral had ended and the other mourners had dispersed. They sat staring past the front seats and out the windshield blankly at the darkening coastal sky, both of them mentally and physically exhausted after the past several days of hectic scuffling and very public mourning. “Ready to go home?” Brayden finally asked his brother softly. Addison nodded silently, and Brayden knocked on the window to let Wilkins know they were ready to go.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “You want to join me for a drink?” Addison asked, his tone of voice saying he knew Brayden would turn him down. “Not tonight,” Brayden murmured. “Got a club to run.” He sighed, turning to look at his half-brother. Addison merely turned his head and leaned his forehead against his hand, watching the scenery pass silently.

ADDISON Satterwight lay back on a wooden lounger and watched the iridescent waves beat relentlessly against the dark sand, his sweating glass held to his temple. His dark hair had become wild and unruly with the long exposure to the salty sea air, and his lithe body was draped ungracefully across the wooden lounger. “Let’s just… take the boat and go disappear off the edge of the world,” he grumbled. “I see two problems with that little plan,” Micah Parrish remarked happily as he walked up behind Addison and sat down on the lounger next to him. Addison peered through the darkness at the club’s tennis pro and sailing instructor, taking in the blue polo shirt and white shorts the man wore. He raised an eyebrow at him, briefly leering at the tanned, muscular view for a moment before it sank in that Micah was wearing his club uniform. “Did you work today?” he asked incredulously. “Who were you talking to?” Micah asked without answering as he looked out onto the ocean.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “The sea,” Addison answered with a distant, slightly drunken smile. “Why are you in uniform?” “I’ve been working,” Micah responded in an equally incredulous tone. “The whole place didn’t get the day off, you know.” “Day off,” Brayden Bainbridge drawled darkly from where he had been sitting in the shadows, drinking and watching his younger brother talk to himself. Micah was immediately on his feet with his hands behind his back, head lowered as he tried to peer into the shadows for his boss. “Jesus, Brayden,” Addison breathed after they had both finally spotted him where he sat in the deep shadows of a palm tree. “Are you skulking in the shadows?” he asked with a hint of amusement. “The only father I’ve ever known is dead,” Brayden murmured as he eyed them both. “I’m drowning my sorrows,” he said grimly. Micah shifted his feet nervously and cleared his throat. Brayden raised his chin and narrowed his eyes at the man before he could speak. “How were your lessons?” he asked deliberately. “Uneventful, sir. Mostly the vacationers,” Micah answered curtly. “Teaching their debutantes and trust-fund babies how to play a little tennis for all the free time in their futures,” he muttered almost under his breath. “You seem to be awfully condescending when referring to the people who help pay your salary,” Brayden observed

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux coldly. He saw Addison turn his head and sigh audibly, and he watched Micah raise his chin defiantly in the silhouette of the moonlight. “My apologies,” the man murmured in place of the vitriolic comment Brayden had expected from him. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he added with just a hint of sarcasm before half-turning to Addison. He petted him on the top of the head and then walked away, down the moonlit path and back toward the clubhouse. “You’re a real fuck sometimes, you know that?” Addison said to Brayden as soon as Micah was out of earshot. “You keep talking to the ocean, I’m going to have you put away and steal your inheritance,” Brayden responded before taking another sip of his drink. “Hmph,” Addison offered sulkily, but he didn’t respond otherwise. Brayden smirked triumphantly and sighed contentedly. It wasn’t often that Addison couldn’t come up with a smartass response to something he said. Even though he knew it was the liquor at fault, he still counted it as a point for him on their imaginary chalkboard. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the cool night breeze and tried to enjoy the sound of the ocean. The country club pretty much ran itself day to day. When they’d returned to the club after the funeral, there really hadn’t been much for Brayden to do. He just hadn’t wanted to go home to a house that would echo his footsteps in the darkness. Why Addison hadn’t gone home either, Brayden couldn’t guess. He had long ago stopped trying to

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux keep up with his brother’s mind. He’d come out here, knowing this was where Addison would eventually show up if he was still at the club, and he’d sat down with his drink to wait. Just in case. “How long were you sitting there?” Addison asked after a while. “Actually, I was sitting here when you came stumbling out,” Brayden answered as he picked up his glass and turned it around through the air until the melting ice inside was going in circles. “Did you see me face-plant into the sand?” Addison asked with a drunken laugh. Brayden huffed and answered, “I did. I thought briefly about helping you up, but watching you wallow was more entertaining, in the end.” Addison responded with a disgruntled huff, leaning back in the lounger and flailing briefly when the thing almost tipped him out of it. He wound up wearing what was left of his melted ice and cursing softly as he brushed at it. Brayden chuckled. His half-brother was probably the only person in the world who could fall out of a lounge chair that was literally bolted to the deck. In the distance of the still night, there was a shuffling sound on the wooden boardwalk, as if someone had started down the path toward the beach, heard Addison and Brayden out there talking, and turned around. Brayden knew that the cleaning crew was still out and about, and he figured one of the janitors had expected to find Addison

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux sitting out here alone. One thing Brayden knew about his brother was that he was generous with his stash of pot. Addison turned to look, peering into the darkness to try to see who it had been. He looked back at Brayden, shrugged, and then settled back into his chair. Brayden watched him, knowing what was running through his brother’s mind. “Hey, Brayden?” Addison murmured after a long silence in which they both sat with their own thoughts. “Why do you think he did it?” he asked softly. “Huh?” Brayden asked in feigned confusion. He shifted uncomfortably and swirled his drink nervously. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing. The less of it he could do, the better off everyone was. “Father. He killed himself, didn’t he?” Addison responded with a certainty Brayden had rarely heard in his capricious brother’s voice. “Why, do you think?” Brayden sat up and blinked through the dim light, squinting to see past the blurry vision of his whiskey. Sometimes Addison still surprised him. “What makes you think he killed himself?” he asked, his voice laced with morbid fascination. “He was in good health his last checkup,” Addison pointed out. “He was also a heavy drinker, and his kidneys finally gave out, man,” Brayden countered as he leaned forward into the light, glancing back down the path with a frown. He

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux wasn’t sure if they were being overheard. He supposed it wasn’t really important, though, in the end. Addison glanced at him with a shake of his head and then looked back out to the sea wordlessly. Brayden sighed and flopped back onto the lounger. His younger brother had always been the black sheep of the family: flighty and hot-headed and restless. He had even taken his mother’s maiden name just to piss off their dad when he had turned eighteen. But Addison had never been one to come to conclusions hastily, nor was his mind easily changed once he reached a decision. Everyone in Coral Gables knew that. If Addison believed their father had killed himself, then he would believe it until the day he died or someone proved him wrong.

“MR. BAINBRIDGE, you have a guest waiting at the reception area. Mr. Bainbridge….” Brayden looked up at the cleverly hidden speaker when the announcement started and then back down at the club member with whom he had been chatting for one last word and a smile. “Excuse me, will you, Mr. Graham? It seems my brother is nowhere to be found today, and suddenly I’m needed everywhere,” he said in a honey-smooth voice as he shook the old man’s hand.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “You’re doing a fine job, young man, fine job. It’s as if old Reggie were never gone,” Mr. Graham assured him with a manly pat to his shoulder before he stuffed his cigar between his thick lips again and turned back to the game of cards he and his cronies had been enjoying. Brayden smiled as he straightened and said goodbye to the group of some of the club’s oldest, most important members. He smiled right up until he had turned away and made sure no one could see him. Then the smile dropped off into a snarl as he stalked toward the reception area of the country club. He glided up to the greeter’s desk and pinned Julie with his dark eyes. “How many times must I go over the not using the PA system for anything but emergencies?” he asked sarcastically, his voice a soft, threatening growl. “I know, sir. I’m very sorry, but—” “There are no three strikes here, Julie,” Brayden snarled as he held up one finger and pointed it at her threateningly. “I… I think you need to see these gentlemen,” the timid little brunette stuttered desperately. “I didn’t want to keep them waiting, and no one could find you,” she protested. Brayden narrowed his eyes and snarled a little more before turning around to head for the Hospitality Room, the room in which all things unwanted were stored: hats, coats, umbrellas, children, non-members. He stopped short when he entered the atrociously decorated room. It was intended to dissuade anyone from staying past their very short period of welcome. It had always

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux worked on Brayden, anyway. He never got used to just how ugly it was. Once his eyes had gotten past the pink carpeting, the blue flowers on green wallpaper, and the frilly green-and-pink-striped furniture, he saw that Addison had indeed disappeared, right into the Hospitality Room. He had apparently been found first and sent here to babysit two men who could be nothing other than police detectives. They were different stereotypes, Brayden thought with some amusement, but they were stereotypes all the same. They were complete opposites. Black and white. Smiling and frowning. Casual and uptight. The happier of the two wore a crisp white shirt and faded jeans, with a badge hanging on a chain around his neck. He was a large man, possibly as tall as Brayden himself if he’d been standing, and obviously fit as well. His head was completely shaved, making the top of his dark head shine with the light from the gaudy art deco chandelier. The other one was blond and tanned from hours and hours in the sun. Brayden guessed it wasn’t the type of tan one got while lying on a beach. He sported a worn brown suit that seemed to have wilted in the hot Florida summer, and he had a badge attached to his belt where it couldn’t be seen unless he pushed back his suit coat to reveal it and his gun. A uniformed officer stood near the coat rack in the corner, trying not to stare at the green and blue wallpaper. Probably trying to keep his corneas from being seared. Brayden took them all in quickly and then looked at Addison with alarm clear in his dark eyes.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Gentlemen,” he greeted in a stunned voice as he edged further into the room and closed the door behind him, glancing again at Addison questioningly. “Brayden,” Addison said in a low voice as the two detectives stood and turned toward him. His brother’s tone and expression were both unreadable, and that more than anything made Brayden very nervous. Addison’s thoughts and feelings were almost always hanging right out there for all to see. “Mr. Bainbridge, thank you for joining us,” the black detective said, showing his badge briefly and then sliding it back onto his belt. “I’m Detective Morgan; this is Detective Walker,” he informed Brayden with a wave of his hand at his silent partner. His voice wasn’t as deep as Brayden had expected it to be. “Is there a problem?” Brayden asked in a still slightly stunned voice, looking from the detectives to Addison with a frown. “I’m afraid there is,” Morgan answered with a sorrowful nod. “It seems that your father may have been murdered, Mr. Bainbridge.” Brayden blinked stupidly and looked at Addison again to see if this wasn’t some sort of sick joke. “Murdered,” he repeated in an incredulous voice. “Yes, sir,” Morgan responded. “We’re going to try and keep our investigation as far from the eyes of your members as we can, but we expect full cooperation in return for our troubles,” he said sternly.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Investigation?” Brayden echoed with a frown. “If you’re not willing to cooperate,” Detective Walker murmured in a low, growling voice, “we can make the club a very unsavory place to spend time at this summer.” Brayden blinked and then bit back the snarl the threat almost elicited. “Detectives,” he gritted out, “we are, of course, willing to cooperate with any investigation you deem necessary. But… he wasn’t murdered,” he protested with a helpless little gesture of his hand. “He drank himself to death. His heart and his kidneys gave out. It’s as simple as that.” “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as all that, Mr. Bainbridge,” Detective Morgan corrected gently. “Your father’s death was not due to natural circumstances, and we suspect the perpetrator may have been one of your employees or guests.” “What?” Addison blurted out as he stood up from the ruffled and striped green and pink monstrosity upon which he had been seated. “That’s preposterous; no one here could be a murderer! These are good people!” “Sonny,” Brayden snapped as Addison’s voice threatened to carry past the soundproofing of the world’s most hideous wallpaper. There was also soundproofing in the walls, but Brayden was nothing if not thorough. Addison glared at him but remained silent, beginning to pace restlessly instead. Walker flipped open a little notepad and began scanning handwritten notes in the ensuing silence, and finally he read

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux what he’d been looking for. He looked up at Brayden and asked, “When did your father begin drinking heavily?” “I’m sorry,” Brayden asked with a hand held up, as if asking for a timeout. “But what makes you think he was murdered?” “Mr. Bainbridge, please answer the question,” Walker responded in a near monotone. “It was about two months ago,” Addison interjected. “He started showing up to events drunk; slurring his speech and falling all over everything. Why?” he demanded. “Did he exhibit signs of confusion?” Walker inquired without answering any questions of his own. “The only thing our father was ever confused about was the difference between a bishop and a rook. Please answer our questions,” Brayden demanded, getting angrier and frustrated with their officious attitudes. “I’m afraid we can’t divulge the particulars behind our investigation as yet,” Morgan answered after a moment of silence. “We’ll need to question all your employees who were working the party the night your father died.” “Fine,” Brayden allowed with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And we would also like permission to exhume the body,” Morgan added. “No,” Addison said immediately. Brayden looked at him in surprise as the two detectives gave each other a pointed look.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “I’m not going to bury him again,” Addison told them. “You do your investigation or whatever, but you’re not digging him up,” he stated defiantly. Brayden gave the kid a closer look, seeing determination that was rarely present in Addison’s eyes, and he remained quiet because of it. “Very well,” Morgan acquiesced. “I must warn you, however, we may have to come back with a warrant.” “You do that, then,” Addison responded with a nod. “Until then, may he rest in fucking peace,” he spat, stalking out of the room and exiting with a resounding slam of the door against the wall before anyone could reply. Brayden watched him stride down the hallway toward the reception area and then turned back to the two detectives, completely mystified. “I apologize for my brother,” he offered. “It’s been quite an emotional time around here. I hope you understand,” he said smoothly, finally hurtling over the shock and turning on the ever-present inner switch that forced him to be an ever-gracious host. “Of course,” Morgan answered with an ingratiating smile of his own. “Can you tell us, Mr. Bainbridge, what the Country Club of Coral Gables does with the five gallons of ethylene glycol it orders every month?” “With the what?” Brayden asked, nonplussed and a bit thrown off by the sudden change in questioning. “Ethylene glycol,” Detective Walker answered with a smug smirk. “Antifreeze, Mr. Bainbridge.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden blinked at the man and cocked his head. “Well,” he started slowly, “I would assume we use it to keep shit from freezing,” he answered sarcastically. “What is the size of the club’s motorcade?” Morgan asked before Walker could respond. “I’m not sure, right off hand,” Brayden answered honestly. “There are a few dozen vans and utility trucks. Several hundred golf carts and roughly a dozen of those damn green all-terrain things. I can get the numbers for you.” “That would be very helpful,” Morgan replied with a nod. “We’ll also need a list of everyone who was present the night your father died.” “You mean at the party?” Brayden asked. “The people who worked it?” “And the club members present,” Walker added. Brayden stared at them incredulously. “The guest list?” he asked “Yes, sir,” the two detectives answered simultaneously. “Do you realize how many people that is?” Brayden asked, aghast. “I’m afraid we do, sir,” Morgan answered drolly. “Or who that list will include?” Brayden added as his mind whirled through just how much family money these two detectives were about to rifle through. “You don’t plan to question them all, do you?” he asked in horror.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “I’m afraid we can’t say, Mr. Bainbridge. We will, of course, attempt to remain subtle,” Walker responded insincerely. “We’re also going to need to see where you store your automotive products. Today.” “Right now,” Morgan added grimly. “Of course,” Brayden murmured with one last shellshocked look at them both as he tried to process all they were asking for. “Please follow me,” he requested as he turned on his heel and headed out of the room. They received several odd looks from the few members of the club’s staff they passed as Brayden Bainbridge led Detectives Morgan and Walker through the upper halls of the club. It was obvious from the stiff way Brayden held himself that he was not pleased, and it was obvious, too, that the two men following in his wake did not belong in the club. He asked them to wait in the antechamber of the private office that was still filled with all of their father’s things while he went in to find the information they had requested. Brayden looked around the antechamber for a wistful moment, remembering all the times he and Addison had been relegated to the old leather couch as punishment for some youthful misdeed. “Just a moment, gentlemen,” Brayden murmured to the detectives as he shook off the memories and turned to the office. “What the hell, Brayden?” Addison demanded of him as soon as he pushed through the heavy oak door and stepped inside.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux It didn’t click closed behind him, but Brayden was too distracted to pay much attention to it. He had expected Addison to be skulking in their father’s office. His office, rather. But he hadn’t quite expected Addison to be in his face as soon as he stepped through the door. “Calm down,” he urged quietly as he went to the huge desk in the center of the room. “No, no. Why are they here?” Addison asked with a random point in the general direction of the door. “Why are they saying that Father was murdered?” “Sonny, just be calm, okay?” Brayden hissed. He was distantly impressed with himself, with how much better he was handling this conversation than the last one they’d had regarding their father’s death. He moved toward the desk and shushed his brother as he thought of how easy it was to hear what they were saying. He and Addison had always been able to hear his father’s arguments with his various girlfriends through the air vent that connected the office to the private antechamber. His father had never known, and it was one of the first things Brayden planned to have fixed after this was over. “I don’t know what information they’re going on,” he told Addison. “But they’re asking very specific questions, and since they’re not going to find anything, they’ll be gone soon. Just… hey, why don’t you take a vacation or something, huh?” he suggested distractedly as he thumbed through a file, looking for the numbers the detectives had requested. “What?” Addison snapped, looking at Brayden in horror. “You want me to pick up and leave after being questioned by

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux the police about the possibility of my father’s murder?” he asked in a high-pitched voice that wavered incredulously. “Jesus, Brayden, if you want the inheritance I’ll give it to you, but don’t send me to jail!” he shouted sarcastically. Brayden looked up with a blink and shook his head. “Christ, you’re right,” he muttered. He set the file down and pushed away from the antique teak desk. “Sorry,” he offered weakly as he walked over and put his arm around Addison’s shoulder to calm him. Addison huffed in return and crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw setting defiantly. “It’ll be okay, little brother,” Brayden soothed with a pat to Addison’s arm. “We’ll just have to give them whatever they ask for and make sure they’re gone before anyone starts getting wind of trouble.” “If it gets out that they even think Father was murdered, the whole place will implode,” Addison responded grimly as he shook off Brayden’s hand and began to pace. “We just won’t let that happen then, will we?” Brayden murmured.

“SETH, isn’t it?” Brayden called to a short, scruffy man in khaki shorts and sunglasses who was shoveling a load of bright white rocks out of the back of a club car into an empty flower-bed.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux The man started violently when he saw Brayden approaching and quickly reached up to his ear to dislodge an ear-bud that was attached to a small MP3 player. “Yes, sir,” he answered as he set the end of his shovel on the ground and straightened up. He glanced from Brayden to the two men who flanked him and licked his lips nervously. Brayden knew it was always a fright for a club employee to see the bossman with a uniform or with anyone even resembling a cop. There was never any telling which little rich girl had called foul for no other reason than to fuck with the locals or which bitter old widow had made an advance and been rebuked only to scream that her pearls had gone missing. Then there were the occasional few employees who ended up being led away in handcuffs, but Brayden and his father had always managed to keep those incidents quiet. “You do some work with the motorcade, yes?” Brayden asked Ramirez curtly, looking down at the rocks with a frown as he removed his own sunglasses. “No, sir,” Ramirez answered as his eyes darted to the cops one more time. “You’re looking for Mr. Grace, sir. Is there a problem, sir?” he asked worriedly. “These gentlemen need to see our… what was it again?” Brayden asked in annoyance as he turned around to the detective beside him and waved a hand for assistance. “Ethylene glycol,” Morgan supplied.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden nodded and looked back to Ramirez. “Can you take care of that for me, or do you need to find Mr. Grace?” he asked in a tight voice. “You’ll need to get into the storage shed, sir,” Ramirez answered immediately as he reached for the two-way radio on his belt. “I’ll call Mr. Grace for you, sir,” he said smartly, obviously relieved that he would no longer be needed. He pushed a button and put it to his mouth. “Hey, Daniel? Mr. Bainbridge needs you at the back shed,” he said into the radio, his eyes on Brayden and the detectives. Brayden could unintelligibly.

hear

a

little

voice

responding

Ramirez put the two-way radio back to his lips, his eyes still on them as if they might attack him if he looked away, and he answered Daniel Grace’s question with a muttered, “I would think right now.”

BRAYDEN stood off to the side, watching worriedly as the police questioned the head of his maintenance staff. Daniel Grace, a wiry blond who had the unnerving habit of meeting your eyes when you spoke to him and never looking away, stood answering the questions the two detectives asked with curt nods and precise, one-word answers. Brayden was frowning unconsciously. He had his head cocked to the side, straining to hear and watching out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t make out any of the questions

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux or answers, but he was wildly curious as to what Daniel was saying to the two detectives to make them look so annoyed. As he struggled to overhear the conversation, he caught sight of Addison moving through the shade of the palm trees that lined a nearby service path. Addison being in the vicinity of the two detectives made him very twitchy. His brother was, in a word, volatile. He cleared his throat and shifted nervously, looking back at the detectives as Daniel stood in front of them like a brick wall and stared at them expressionlessly. His back was ramrod straight, his feet were set a shoulder’s width apart, and his arms were crossed over his chest. He looked like an Army drill sergeant. It would have been amusing to watch the little interrogation if Brayden hadn’t been so tense. He wondered what they were making of Daniel Grace’s body language. He glanced back at the path. It was a service path, hidden with strategic landscaping and fencing. Addison stood off to the side in the shade of the palm trees with his arms crossed, frowning as he watched the detectives through the palms. Brayden began to amble his way over to his brother. “What are you doing?” he asked softly, barely moving his lips as he slid up to stand beside Addison. “Observing,” Addison snapped quietly. “What the hell are they doing? What are they looking for? Have they told you anything yet?”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden shook his head, opening his mouth to answer and then closing it again when no answers came immediately to mind. Detective Walker glanced over at them, raising an eyebrow as they spoke. The radio at Addison’s belt crackled with static. Then Micah Parrish’s voice spoke questioningly. “Sonny?” he ventured, sounding worried. “They’re looking for your brother all over the place. Some of the guests—” Addison snatched the radio from his belt and put it to his mouth, his eyes never leaving the detectives. “Take care of it, Micah,” he said quietly, his voice low and serious. Brayden did a double take, looking at his brother as if he had never seen him before. He had never heard Addison use that tone of voice with anyone, much less someone he considered a friend. “What?” Micah responded with a squeak in his voice. “But—” “Micah,” Addison snapped quietly. “Take care of it.” “I’m the sounding as around him. unless it’s an

fucking tennis pro, Sonny,” Micah hissed, if he were trying not to be heard by those “I don’t take care of members with problems ugly backhand!”

Addison clicked the radio off and slid it back onto its clip with a sigh. He turned and looked at Brayden blankly. “I’ll escort the dicks around,” Brayden murmured to him. “Go take care of our members,” he urged softly. Addison’s jaw tightened and he turned his body slightly to face Brayden. “Addison,” Brayden said quietly, his voice

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux authoritative and persuasive, “what’s the first thing Father taught us?” Addison’s eyes flickered and he looked away, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “Never let the surface ripple,” he muttered grudgingly. Brayden nodded silently. Addison inhaled deeply and then exhaled once more, giving Brayden another frown before turning away. “Let me know as soon as they leave,” he demanded before turning and stalking back down the pathway. Brayden watched him walk away, worrying about why his brother was so twitchy, and then turned back to see the detectives just finishing up with Daniel. Daniel caught his eye and gave him a questioning tilt of his head. Brayden merely shrugged and shook his head in answer. This would all be over soon, he told himself. No need to worry. No need at all.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux

II

“WHAT the hell is wrong with you today?” Micah demanded as Addison sat staring morosely at the glass top of the coffee table. When Addison didn’t answer, Micah sat down in the chair opposite him and examined him closely. He looked worn out and irritated. Addison always tended to look worn out when he spent too much time at the club, but he rarely looked irritated. Addison was an easygoing guy, even when he wasn’t high on this or that. To see him so out of sorts and moody made Micah worry more than he usually did. They were sitting in Micah’s little studio apartment that was situated just steps from the Miracle Mile in downtown Coral Gables. The place screamed beach bum—or more accurately, swamp rat—from the rattan furniture to the ceramic tile floor to the bamboo window coverings. The yellow, orange, and red surfboard hanging on the wall over the couch and the strings of green and blue alligator-shaped tiki lights that illuminated the small balcony were the only splashes of color in the place. Everything else was sandtoned. It suited Micah just fine. He had been to Addison’s bungalow on the beach. He had seen the sumptuous leather and heavy wood furnishings and the stainless steel and marble kitchen and the gated entrance and the expensive

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux teak deck furniture. He wondered what it would be like to live like that, and it never failed to amaze him when Addison insisted that they come to Micah’s place whenever they were together. It was as if Addison desperately wanted to taste what normal life might be like. At least that was what Micah hoped. He didn’t want to think that Addison might be ashamed of being seen with a swamp rat like him. Coral Gables was a small, rich community. They could smell the salt on you when you walked past. And Micah had learned that the more money some people had, the meaner they got. It was easy to be shunned if you didn’t stay in the main-stream with all the other brightly colored fishies. Micah didn’t think that was the case, though. Not with Addison. Addison had never cared what anyone thought of him. With Addison Satterwight, what you saw was usually what you got. From the little Micah knew of Addison’s life, he had been seeking normality since he was old enough to think for himself. He had tried to break from his family, a family that was one of the oldest in Miami; one that had founded the Country Club of Coral Gables—the oldest country club in Miami-Dade—in 1923 and had lived like kings on the coasts and canals of Florida for literally centuries. That pedigree alone could get Addison anything he wanted. Addison and Brayden’s father, Reginald Bainbridge, had been a bit of a cad. He had married five times, divorced four times, been widowed once, and seen many mistresses and girlfriends in between. He had never made any secret of the fact that he liked to roam. Brayden was fond of joking that

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux he probably had siblings everywhere and that every time he saw a pair of brown eyes like his and Addison’s, he wondered if he might be related. Addison, Micah had observed, never found the joke funny. He was an entirely different animal from Brayden or his father. He had taken his late mother’s maiden name when he turned 18 and then promptly disappeared into the world for four years. His multi-million-dollar trust fund had remained untouched the day he turned twenty-one, the day he could legally access it. He had returned to Coral Gables at twenty-three with the intention, it was said, of signing over his share of the inheritance to his brother. The rumor was that Brayden had managed to convince him not to do it and then guilt him into the family business by claiming that he and his father could not run the club on their own and needed Addison’s help. Many suspected that Brayden had simply been desperately trying to save Addison from himself, hoping to ground him and keep him from dissolving into the world. It was commendable, if it was true. Brayden had given up several million dollars of trust-fund money that his brother had been trying to give him just to keep him close and safe. Addison had calmed over the years, appearing to accept his role in the club’s business and in what was left of his wealthy family, but Micah knew that the man was still too wild for his brother’s taste. His father had tried to keep him under his thumb, but Addison had always managed to elude the old man’s attempts. Most of what Micah knew of the family, though, was simply a compilation of rumors. He had yet to make up his

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux own opinion of either brother, even though he and Addison had become considerably closer in the past few months. “Sonny,” he whispered as he watched the other man. Addison didn’t outwardly respond to him. “Do you want to go out?” he asked, his tone of voice quiet and careful. “We could go dancing,” he offered half-heartedly. Addison’s eyes moved slowly to meet Micah’s. Micah cocked his head, waiting for a response. Finally, Addison gave a barely discernible shake of his head in answer. “Do you want to go to your place?” Micah ventured as he sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I could drive you home; you could take some valium maybe, relax a little?” “Micah,” Addison muttered with a frown as he closed his eyes in apparent exhaustion. “Well! It’s been a rough week,” Micah insisted with a defensive shrug. He knew Addison wasn’t shocked by his suggestion. Coral Gables wasn’t very different from the rest of the Miami-Dade area. The drugs were just more expensive and dramatically colored. And Addison had definitely seen more daring venues than his current one. “I don’t want to be seen over there right now,” Addison muttered as he put his face in his hands. Micah pursed his lips and watched him silently. “You want me to call you a cab?” he finally offered neutrally. “You don’t have to be seen with me.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Addison’s head snapped up, and he glowered at Micah with a mixture of anger and hurt. “Where the hell did that come from?” he asked in a wounded voice. Micah shrugged and shook his head. “If I were embarrassed of my friends, I’d have different friends,” Addison informed him coldly, standing up and crossing his arms defiantly. “Sit down,” Micah sighed, looking up at Addison with a small smile. “You know the only reason you’re here is because I’m the only one who’s not afraid to smack you around, and you like it.” He laughed. Addison huffed and flopped back down, holding his face in his hands once more. “Now,” Micah muttered, “you want to tell me what’s gotten up your craw?” he inquired. Addison was still for a moment. Then he peered through his fingers at Micah, his normally soft brown eyes now dark and unreadable. “Two detectives came to the club today,” he told Micah softly. “They said they thought Father had been murdered.” “What?” Micah breathed in shock. Addison merely nodded and dropped his hands into his lap, looking down at them distantly. “But… why do they think that? How would they know? Do they have suspects?” “They said they suspect someone at the club. Maybe even one of the members,” Addison murmured as his brow furrowed. He looked back up at Micah and fixed him with an eerily emotionless stare. “They’re going to be looking for

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux motive,” he pointed out softly. “I can’t think of a motive better than instant inheritance, can you?” Micah blinked at the man and swallowed with difficulty. “Your father was a bastard, Sonny,” he whispered suddenly, leaning forward and meeting Addison’s eyes determinedly. “Plenty of people would have wanted to kill him. You certainly won’t be the first on their list.” “Maybe not,” Addison sighed. “But I’ll be on it, all the same.” Micah bit his lip and looked down at Addison’s hands. He reached out slowly and slid his fingers around one of Addison’s and then looked up at him uncertainly. Addison was watching him with an unreadable expression. “What can I do?” Micah asked him in a low whisper. Addison cocked his head, looking into Micah’s eyes and then down at their hands. He moved his hand until he was grasping Micah’s, and he looked back up at Micah with a small smile. “You’re doing it,” he said softly. He tugged at Micah’s hand gently, and Micah stood and stepped around the coffee table to sit beside him. Addison waited until he was settled, and then he curled up beside him and rested his head in Micah’s lap. Micah froze, looking down at him in consternation. Addison was never the type to hide his affections, but he wasn’t exactly what Micah would call a cuddler, either. He rested his hand carefully on Addison’s shoulder, patting him worriedly.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “You take a lot of shit because of me,” Addison observed as he stared out the balcony doors at the sickly yellow streetlights that filtered through the haze of humidity in the night. Micah immediately shook his head, even though Addison wouldn’t see it. He ran the fingers of his other hand through Addison’s hair, curling a lock around his index finger absently. “Not really,” he responded in a low voice. “Liar,” Addison accused affectionately. “Coke fiend,” Micah returned easily. Addison chuckled softly. They sat in silence for a long time, the noise from the street outside the open balcony doors the only thing impinging upon the comfort of their companionship.

BRAYDEN sat in his father’s office—his office—and stared at the thick oak door without really seeing it. Addison had disappeared promptly at eight p.m., leaving Brayden alone to deal with the night owls. He didn’t blame Addison, though. The kid wasn’t even supposed to work on Mondays; he had every right to go running off to wherever tonight and take some time to himself. Brayden didn’t blame his little brother for leaving. He did, however, need to know where he was disappearing to. Addison had a tendency to end up in strange beds with strange people on his good nights. On his bad nights,

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden usually found him in the morning, stoned out of his mind and sitting on the beach in front of the club, staring at the ocean. Brayden sighed and turned his thoughts back to the night. The morning could wait. The club closed its doors at ten, and it locked them at midnight. But there was a lounge in the basement of the club, a lounge covered with dark wood paneling and worn leather and well-polished brass. It was a lounge that you could only get to by opening a door hidden in the intricate molding of the club’s main entryway and following a winding staircase down into a swirl of Cuban cigar smoke and the smell of Louis XIII Black Pearl cognac. Only the wealthiest of members frequented it or even knew of it, the sons and grandsons of the club’s first members, playing hands of poker that would have paid the year’s salary for most of the club’s employees. And those were the men who you just didn’t say the words “last call” to. They tipped their servers well, though, and Brayden trusted the people who worked in the downstairs lounge to take care of them and be discreet. He wouldn’t be needed down there unless someone specifically requested to see him. He was free to lock himself in his father’s office—his office—and hide. A soft knock on the door drew Brayden from his reverie. “Come in,” he called softly. He leaned back and rubbed at his eyes, making the leather of the expensive executive’s chair creak comfortably. He rocked forward again in surprise when Daniel Grace stuck his head into the room. “Daniel,”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden greeted in a slightly stunned voice. “It’s late,” he observed, feeling stupid as soon as the words were out. “I’m just finishing up,” the man murmured in his oddly soft, gruff voice as he stepped into the room. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he started. Brayden was already shaking his head. “You’re not,” he assured Daniel with a wave of his hand. In fact, it was almost a relief to have a distraction from his worries. “What can I do for you?” “I was on my way home and saw this sitting on the front step of the club,” Daniel explained as he held up a manila envelope and stepped closer almost hesitantly. “It has your name on it,” he murmured as he handed the envelope over the top of the antique desk. Brayden looked from Daniel to the envelope, examining it discreetly to make certain it was still sealed. Daniel stood with his arm outstretched as Brayden stared at the envelope, and finally he wavered slightly, the envelope shaking in his hand as he pulled back uncertainly. Brayden looked back up at him and finally leaned forward in the chair and took the envelope. “I didn’t open it,” Daniel assured him softly, backing away and nodding his head as Brayden looked back up at him carefully. “Thank you, Daniel,” Brayden murmured as he held the envelope carefully in his hand. He didn’t look down at it or even turn it over to examine it. He knew where it had come from. He stood and met Daniel’s eyes. “I’ll show you out,” he murmured.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Daniel opened his mouth to protest, but then he seemed to sense that it wasn’t for his benefit that Brayden had offered. He pressed his lips tightly together and nodded, sliding his hands into his pockets as he turned on his heels and let Brayden open the heavy oak door for him. They walked silently through the halls and down the stairs, Brayden walking with his head down and Daniel giving him the occasional uncertain glance. “How have you been doing?” Daniel finally asked him in a low voice just as they reached the ornate wooden entrance doors of the club. Brayden looked over at him as he opened one of the doors. “Better than I thought I would be. A little undue stress, but I’m handling it,” he answered honestly. “Sonny?” Daniel asked with a frown. Brayden nodded and pressed his lips together into a thin line. “He’s holding up okay,” he answered, though his tone of voice said he was uncertain. Daniel nodded and looked out into the parking lot. “Well,” he said with a small sigh. “If you need me,” he offered vaguely. Brayden nodded and thanked him, and Daniel headed out into the warm night without another word. Brayden stood in the entryway to the club as he watched Daniel walk down the cobblestone drive toward the employees’ lot. He pulled the front door closed, locked it, and then walked over to the security pad to punch in his code. He stood there staring at the keypad for a long time, the

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux envelope heavy in his hand. He dreaded the trek back up to the office, and he was tempted to call Daniel to come back and have a drink with him just so he’d have an excuse not to open it. Finally, he couldn’t make himself stall any longer, and he turned woodenly to walk back up the stairs. He was sitting back in his chair before he really knew where he was going or what he was doing. It was like he was working on mental auto-pilot, he mused to himself. He wondered if that was how Sonny functioned all the time. His small smile fell quickly with the thought. He licked his lips and looked back down at the envelope in his hand. His name was written on it in block print. The package wasn’t very thick or exceptionally heavy, but the contents worried him. He set the envelope down as if it might contain something explosive and pushed out of his chair, walking slowly to the door like a man whose muscles were too sore to be used. He stood with his hand on the knob and his head cocked, listening. The click of the lock as he turned it resounded in the silence of the nearly deserted club, and Brayden’s stomach turned over nervously. Ever since he’d been a little boy, Brayden had both loved and despised being alone in the club at night. It was somehow freeing to feel like he was breaking the rules or seeing something after hours that no one else got to see. But it could also be oppressively lonely, like he was the only person left in the world. Walking the halls that were normally so full of life and sound in the silence of darkness

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux left a hollow feeling that Brayden had never been entirely comfortable with. His best memories from childhood were of the nights when he and Addison had snuck off the grounds of their home together and come to the club. They would creep across the golf course, feet and ankles getting wet from the dew on the grass, holding hands so as not to lose each other in the darkness, one of them clutching the key swiped from their father as if it would unlock a treasure chest full of gold rather than a massive old country club door. They would spend all night snooping through the hidden passages and nooks of the club, playing in the areas that were supposed to be out of bounds to them, pretending that they ran the place and soliloquizing about what they would do when they really did run it. Addison’s plans had always included hiring someone else to run it and sailing off into the sunset. That had been before the high-tech security had been installed, of course. Brayden and Addison had been clever kids, but they wouldn’t have been any match for the motion sensors. Brayden blinked away the fond memories and headed back for the desk and the responsibility he had inherited from his father. He sat down heavily and picked up the envelope once more. He allowed himself another long moment to worry over what he would find. Then he reached for the antique, ivoryhandled letter opener at his wrist and sliced through the seal.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux

III

ADDISON heard the commotion before he pushed through the heavy oak doors of their father’s office. Brayden knew he would, but he still looked stunned when he stepped through the door and saw all the people milling about inside. “What the hell?” he questioned as he looked around. Several men in uniforms were rifling through the shelves that lined the hexagonal room, and two more were going through the antique ship captain’s desk that sat in the middle of the floor. “Sonny,” Brayden murmured as he waved him over. Addison dropped his duffel bag and looked around in outrage. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded. “They’ve got a warrant,” Brayden said to him calmly as Addison walked over to him, his eyes never leaving the people going through their father’s papers. “Terribly sorry for the intrusion, Mr. Bainbridge. We’ll be done in no time,” Detective Walker told them with a smile that said he was enjoying the intrusion a little too much. “Perhaps if you would tell us what you were looking for, we could be of some assistance,” Brayden said through gritted teeth. His voice was still pleasant, though.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Don’t you have the warrant?” Addison asked him as he reached for the sheet of paper Brayden held in his hands. “It just says they can look through the office and all his papers,” Brayden mumbled to him as Addison scanned the document. “Sir?” one of the uniforms called as she held up her hand. “I think you should see this.” Walker and his partner both moved to look over the woman’s shoulder as she knelt in front of the desk. Brayden craned his head to see what the woman had found. He saw her reach into the top drawer on the left side of the desk and put her hand up into the top of it. There was a loud click from inside the drawer. Addison shifted beside Brayden restlessly. “It’s a secret compartment of some sort, Detective,” the uniform murmured. Walker straightened up and looked over at Brayden and Addison inquiringly. “You know anything about this?” he asked neutrally. Brayden found himself surprised that the man’s tone wasn’t more challenging or suspicious when he asked the question. “That’s a ship captain’s desk from the mid-1800s,” Brayden answered grudgingly. Addison turned to look at him warningly. Anything they said to these men could hurt them; they both knew that. But Brayden knew that helping them went a long way to ending

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux this sooner. And judging from the physical state of his brother this morning, the sooner this was over, the better. “It’s full of secret compartments and hidden drawers,” Brayden continued as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the desk with a frown. “We used to sneak into his office as kids and search it, looking for them all. I doubt Father even knew where they all were,” he murmured. “Well, he knew where this one was,” Detective Morgan murmured as he knelt and reached into the drawer with a gloved hand. He rummaged for a moment and then stood once more with a thin file of papers, bound by two rubber bands, in his hand. The room was silent as he removed the rubber bands and opened the folder to read the top page. After roughly two minutes of examining the documents, the man looked up at them with an unreadable expression. “What is it?” Brayden demanded finally, tired of playing the game the detectives seemed to be enjoying. “It’s what we were looking for,” Morgan answered almost regretfully.

“SO, what’ve we got?” Captain Adelio Gonzalez inquired as Detective Sam Walker sat at his desk and rubbed his eyes. Sam glanced up at the man and sighed. “Two very sneaky brothers,” he answered in a low, rumbling growl.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Talk to me,” Gonzalez requested as he sat opposite Sam and cocked his head. “All right. We got a victim who was poisoned with ethylene glycol—antifreeze,” Sam started with a huff. “On the surface, it looks like the man drank himself to death. That is until the autopsy is performed. All the people we interviewed claim he wasn’t a heavy drinker—just a bourbon every night before he left the club to go home—until about two months ago. Even the sons confirmed that. Then, about two months ago, he starts showing up in public uncoordinated, confused, slurring his speech,” he rattled off as he counted off the points on his fingers. “All are symptoms of ethylene glycol poisoning. As are tachycardia, headaches, decreased visual acuity.” “All of which Bainbridge was diagnosed with during his last checkup, two weeks ago,” Sam’s partner, Detective Ray Morgan, supplied. “According to his medical records. All are relatively minor problems and pretty common in a man of Bainbridge’s age, so they weren’t followed up immediately.” Gonzalez nodded to signal he was following and motioned for them to continue. “Another result of ethylene glycol poisoning is kidney failure,” Sam went on. “Which is ultimately what the man died from. Acute, pretty damn immediate kidney failure. The ME says the stuff metabolizes fast, and in small enough doses it would wear off before anything could be done to reverse the effects.” Morgan was nodding as he chewed his mouthful of sandwich. He swallowed heavily and pointed at the report on

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Sam’s desk. “He also said that the shit has no smell and a sweet taste to it, so it could be slipped into a drink without anyone ever noticing. So, basically, every little dose did a little bit more damage to his insides. They were mimicking the damage done by years of heavy drinking, which we’ve established the victim never did, in just a few months.” “Sounds like a pretty decent plan, if you’re patient and your victim’s predictable,” Gonzalez murmured with a frown. “Which it sounds like they were. So why, if the killer was slipping it to him a little at a time—” “Killers,” Sam corrected. “Okay, why did they suddenly dump enough poison into him to show up on the ME’s tox screen during the autopsy?” Gonzalez questioned. “We wondered that too.” Sam nodded. “Then the doc told us that when someone ingests antifreeze, the standard procedure to combat the poisoning is to give them an alcoholic drink,” he told his captain with a grin. Gonzalez raised one expressive eyebrow but remained silent, waiting for the rest of the explanation. “The alcohol binds with the shit and ushers it out of the system,” Morgan explained. Gonzalez gave them both a confused frown. “Okay,” he said slowly, “so we think they did just enough research to know how to kill him, but not enough to know that when they slipped him antifreeze in his nightly bourbon it was actually saving his life?” he asked, more to sum up the report for himself than anything else.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Pretty much, yes,” Sam answered with a shrug. “For God knows how long, they patiently waited for the old man’s kidneys to give out, then they either realized their mistake or they ran out of time or patience or both. We think two months ago they started slipping him bigger and bigger doses.” “The motor pool manager,” Morgan interjected as he turned the page of his file. “Grace? He said that he had noticed last month the club was a half-gallon short on antifreeze at the end of the month.” “This guy is ex-military,” Sam added with a nod. “He runs that place tight as a drum. He knows what his people are doing before they do it, and he keeps stringent records of all his supplies.” “He says they’re going to need a gallon a week, they need a gallon a week. No plus or minus,” Morgan added before biting into his sandwich. “And he said that this month they were a whole gallon short. Plus,” Morgan said through another full mouth of sandwich, “he said the supply shed has security.” “You remember that rash of robberies a few years back? Million-dollar houses around the golf course getting jacked, and no one saw nothing kind of thing?” Sam asked Gonzalez, who nodded. “Well, during that deal the club set up all their outbuildings with keypad security systems. Reggie Bainbridge, Daniel Grace, the two brothers, and a few other high-level maintenance people at the club are the only ones with access to the outbuilding’s security codes.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “But the club missing antifreeze is flimsy,” the captain pointed out. “I mean, you can buy it at any auto parts store in Miami. Who says he was—” “They,” Morgan interrupted with a smirk. Gonzalez glared at him briefly. “Who says they were using the country club’s antifreeze?” he asked. “Forensics matched the chemical makeup,” Sam told him grimly. “Makes murmured.

the

list

pretty

damn

short,”

Gonzalez

Sam nodded and leaned back in his squeaky chair. “We like the brothers for this, Cap,” Morgan asserted confidently. “They had motive, they had opportunity—” “If you plan to arrest two of the community’s wealthiest, most influential sons within weeks of their father’s death, you’d better have a water-tight case, got it?” the captain told them seriously. Both detectives nodded obediently. “What else is there?” Gonzalez asked. “We found the old man’s will,” Morgan told him with a grin. “Is it not a matter of public record?” Gonzalez asked dubiously. “Not this one,” Sam murmured as he pulled out a scan of the original document they had found hidden in Reggie Bainbridge’s desk. He slid it across his cluttered desktop and pointed at the date.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “It’s hand-written,” Gonzalez said incredulously as he reached for it and picked it up. “Right,” Morgan agreed with a sage nod, concealing his grin with another bit of his sandwich. “This is far from official,” Gonzalez muttered with a troubled frown. “Granted,” Sam agreed. “But it’s also the last known version of his intentions, if you’ll notice, and his intentions are clear,” Morgan responded through his last bite of sandwich. “This was a rough draft of a letter he was sending to his lawyer. He wasn’t planning on leaving his sons a dime of his fortune,” Sam stated grimly. “Can we prove that they knew that?” the captain asked keenly. “The lab is trying to lift prints off it. If we find either son’s prints on those pieces of paper, we’ll have them. We’re waiting for the results,” Sam answered with a shrug. “Anything else?” Gonzalez asked, obviously not yet convinced of the validity of their case. Sam didn’t blame him. If they went after those boys and fucked it up, the captain would be hanging from the gates of the country club as a piñata before sundown. “When we visited the club that first time, we heard them talking in their office,” Morgan offered. “They thought we couldn’t hear them. And then again when we were questioning Grace. The older one was pretty calm about the

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux investigation, but the younger was freaking out. I mean really freaking out. Watching us like hawks and twitchy as all hell.” “He’s also blocked us from exhuming the body,” Sam added. “I thought we had all we needed from the body,” Gonzalez said with a frown. “We do,” Sam affirmed with a smile. “But the kid didn’t know that.”

THE sound of the waves crashing against the strand of white sand was the only thing impeding upon the buzz Addison had created with his stash of pills and booze. He lay sprawled in a lounge chair he had dragged out onto the beach, his half-empty bottle nestled into the sand at his fingertips. The fragrant smell of the cigar he held mingled with the salt air and the booze to make an oddly pleasant scent as Brayden approached him. But the smoke of his cigar haloed around him in the moonlight, creating an eerie aura around him that Brayden found himself hesitant to intrude upon. Finally he cleared his throat and moved forward out into the sand. “There you go,” Addison drawled, “skulking in the shadows again.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “There you go,” Brayden responded bitterly, “stoned out of your mind again.” “Go fuck yourself, Brayden,” Addison muttered without moving. Brayden shook his head and walked slowly over to sit on the end of the lounger. Addison pulled his legs up to give him room and blew an impressive smoke ring into the night as he rested his head on the cushion. “Talk to me, brother,” Brayden pleaded softly. “Our king is dead, Brayden,” Addison murmured grimly as he closed his eyes and rested his head back, squirming in that languid way that only someone trying to sustain their buzz could manage. “Long live the fucking king.” “Jesus, Sonny,” Brayden spat angrily as he looked away at the white tips of the waves in the distance. “Are you trying to destroy everything we’ve worked for?” he asked. “Worked for?” Addison spat. “Brayden, we’ve never worked a day in our lives. I don’t think we’d even know how,” he claimed as he closed his eyes. “You know how closely we’re being watched right now?” Brayden shot back at him as he reached into his neatly tailored suit jacket and pulled out the manila envelope he had been carrying with him since the night before. He tossed it at Addison angrily. Addison jerked in surprise and flailed as the envelope hit him in the face. Brayden felt a mixture of regret and satisfaction when he saw that the edge of the heavy paper had sliced a thin cut along Addison’s tanned cheekbone.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “What the hell, man?” Addison muttered, apparently too stoned or drunk to have felt it. He reached into the envelope and extracted a handful of glossy eight-by-ten photographs, squinting at them in the low light. Even in the moonlight, though, it was obvious what the pictures showed. Addison inhaled sharply and looked up at Brayden in outraged confusion. “Where did you get these?” he demanded in a hurt voice. “A friend took them,” Brayden muttered in answer. “You’re having me followed?” Addison cried as he held up the fuzzy black-and-white prints and waved them through the air. Brayden looked away from the photos and shook his head. He didn’t need to see his brother like that, especially not with someone like Micah Parrish. “You were always about the sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, Sonny,” he said softly, “but does it have to be so fucking blatant? What if that had been the cops taking those pictures and not someone I trusted?” “You’re having me followed?!” Addison repeated in outrage as he tossed the photos at Brayden. They scattered as they hit him, fluttering to the sand around them in a collage of illicit activities. “I’m trying to protect you!” Brayden shouted at him as he picked up the photo that had landed in his lap and crumpled it up in his hand. “I’m trying to protect both of us!” “I don’t need your protection!” Addison shouted as he struggled off the lounger and to his feet. He wobbled slightly

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux in the soft sand, going to his knees and hanging his head as he tried to stop his world from spinning. Brayden slid off the lounger and knelt beside him in the sand, resting his hand on Addison’s back and bending over him to peer at his face. “Addison,” he murmured worriedly. “Please….” Addison stared at the picture on the ground beneath his hand. “I’m framing that one,” he stated suddenly, calm and nonchalant once more. The change in moods was jarring, and Brayden found himself staring at his younger brother with his mouth hanging open. It wasn’t any effect of the drugs or alcohol. Addison had always switched gears with a rapidity that made Brayden dizzy, even when they had been little. Addison looked back at him and pointed down at the photo. “That position is hard to get into,” he told Brayden defensively. Brayden couldn’t help himself. He snorted in amusement and flopped onto his ass beside his brother, all his anger inexplicably draining away. Addison shifted and rolled onto his back, spread-eagle in the sand and looking up at the stars as he rested his head on Brayden’s shin. Brayden was hit with an array of memories. His chest tightened, and he cocked his head to watch Addison sadly. How many nights had they done this as children? How many nights had they stared at the stars together and wondered where this life would lead them? How had it gone so horribly wrong for them both? His brother a junkie, and Brayden was

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux stuck in this fucking place, miserable and mean just like his father had been. Addison swallowed heavily and closed his eyes as Brayden watched him. When he opened them again, a tear tracked down his tanned face and disappeared into his hairline. He didn’t seem to notice it. “Don’t leave me, okay?” Brayden asked him in a hoarse voice. “Stick with it just a little longer,” he pleaded. “I’m not going anywhere,” Addison murmured. He reached up and swiped the sleeve of his white linen shirt over his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Sonny?” a distant voice called from the direction of the club. Addison sat up slowly and hung his head, not looking in the direction of the voice. “We have to stick together, Sonny,” Brayden whispered to him urgently. “We have to button it up and stop doing stupid shit,” he hissed. “By stupid shit, do you mean Micah?” Addison asked in a low voice. “Sonny, man, if you’re out here drunk again, I’m going to bury you and make you up like a fucking mermaid in the sand!” Micah Parrish’s voice threatened softly. He was obviously searching Addison’s usual haunts as he moved, and Brayden was surprised to find that the man sounded genuinely concerned.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “You think I have to buy real friends?” Addison asked him bitterly. “Just because that’s how it’s always been,” he murmured as he looked out into the sea. Brayden opened his mouth to protest, but Addison was right. The only true friends either of them had ever had growing up had been each other. Too much money could isolate a kid just like having nothing could. “He’s different, isn’t he?” he whispered to Addison suddenly. “He’s different,” Addison nodded, his voice hoarse and strained. Brayden squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. “He could hurt us, kiddo,” he reminded. “Badly.” “He can’t hurt us any more than losing him would,” Addison argued softly as Micah called out to him once more. “Where have you gone, Sonny?” Brayden pleadingly. “What have you done to yourself?”

asked

Addison turned his head to look at him, and even in the moonlight Brayden could see that tears were still flowing. Brayden couldn’t decide if he was crying or if he was just too stoned to realize his eyes were watering. “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, Brayden,” Addison murmured as Brayden studied him. “Micah’s not one of them,” he said softly as he pushed himself to his feet with difficulty and looked down at Brayden “And that’s that?” Brayden asked him in defeat.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “That’s that,” Addison confirmed. He nodded his head suddenly and then turned and made his way with difficulty through the sand, toward the sound of Micah’s voice.

MICAH had tried unsuccessfully to veer Addison off his current path, but when Addison wanted something, he got it. End of story. Micah merely stuck to him like glue as they weaved through the sweltering nightclub, hoping to prevent any catastrophes. After a half-hour of searching through the throng of party-goers, Addison finally found the man he was looking for. Micah turned away, not wanting to look at the dealer too closely, and he kept an eye on the writhing crowd as Addison made the deal amidst the pounding music and the smoke wafting through the air. Then Addison’s hand was on the small of Micah’s back, and they were making their way through the crowd once more to the door. They didn’t plan on staying and enjoying the throbbing dance club, and Micah was glad for it. Micah usually enjoyed the occasional foray into the club scene, but tonight the comparably cool air of the outside on his face was a welcome relief. He and Addison walked sideby-side back to Micah’s beat up old ’71 Camaro. They were silent as Micah drove home, Addison distantly watching the scenery pass by and Micah giving him worried glances as he drove. He had already expressed his misgivings regarding Addison’s plans for the night. They’d had a long discussion

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux while sitting in his car at the club, and Micah was still trying to get his mind around what Addison had told him and what he wanted Micah to do. Micah was by no means averse to illegalities; he thought he had already proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt in some of their previous adventures. But he was averse to stupidity. And what they had just done was damn stupid if Addison’s brother was right and they were being observed closely by the cops. Micah found himself looking for a tail, but he didn’t know enough to be able to spot one and still concentrate on actually driving. He’d tried to talk Addison out of it on the way there. Addison was hearing none of it, though, and Micah wisely kept his mouth shut after his initial objections. Micah feared Addison would find someone else to go with him, and Micah didn’t trust anyone else to do the job. He didn’t want to think of Addison out with someone else anyway. Addison reached out and slid his fingers over Micah’s on the gear shift, but he remained quiet. The silence stretched on as Micah parked his car on the street, and they made their way to his studio apartment off the Miracle Mile. The night offered a welcome breeze that kicked up as they walked across the street, but by the time they had climbed the metal stairs and Micah had all the locks unlocked, they were both sweating lightly once more. It was par for a Florida course. Micah’s apartment had no air conditioner, just a ceiling fan that he clicked on as soon as he stepped into the place.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux It began to move the hot air around as Micah closed the door. Addison walked over and pulled the chain on the fan, turning off the light almost before the bulbs had a chance to warm up. Micah went to the balcony doors and pulled them open, closing his eyes and sighing deeply as the distant scent of the ocean hit his face. He turned to find Addison watching him in the yellow light that streamed in through the windows that faced the street. The only sound was the rhythmic clink of the fan as it revved to life and the hum of the refrigerator as it worked hard to keep its contents cold. They didn’t say a word to each other as Addison pulled the little bag from his pocket and walked slowly over to Micah. Micah watched him almost regretfully. The really shitty part about what Micah knew was coming was that he knew he’d enjoy it; that he’d give Addison exactly what he was seeking and never really even regret doing it. Even now, his forebodings were lessening and being replaced by a dull sense of anticipation. Addison stepped up to him and slid one hand around the back of his neck slowly, bringing their bodies closer in the stifling heat of the little apartment. It was the sort of humid night that made you want nothing more than a cool shower and a clean set of sheets to sweat on. But Micah had always been of the opinion that if you were going to sweat anyway, you may as well be enjoying it. Luckily, Addison shared the opinion. In fact, Micah was pretty certain that being marginally uncomfortable and hot turned Addison on even more.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Micah tugged him closer and kissed him hungrily. The sweat on their bare skin stuck them together as they touched, but neither man seemed to care. They had still not spoken a word to each other, not since Addison had instructed Micah to drive to the nightclub. They had reached a point where they knew what they wanted. Neither man needed to speak. Micah suddenly pushed him roughly away and looked at him intently as his hand moved to unbuckle his own belt. Addison watched him, expressionless, for a long moment before smirking crookedly and backing away. He walked over to open the windows, pulling up the blinds and pushing the windows as wide as they would go as he worked on removing his own shirt. He dropped it on the floor carelessly as he moved. Micah watched it flutter to the white tile and then looked back up at Addison as the man continued undressing and walking to each window to open them. With the last window, Addison turned and met his eyes, and he kept them on him as he moved. Micah followed him toward the bed slowly, like a lion stalking a human, knowing he could devour him but somehow sensing that he could be hurt in the ensuing fight as well. Addison was just unpredictable enough to keep Micah on his toes. When Micah reached him, Addison took hold of his shirt and pushed it up, giving Micah one last open-mouthed, messy kiss before lowering slowly to his knees. On his way down, he kissed at Micah’s chest and stomach, licking at the sweat along his defined muscles.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Micah closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting Addison sink in front of him without touching him or trying to stop him. Addison’s hands pulled at Micah’s undone khakis and tugged them down, followed soon after by his boxers. Micah looked down and watched as Addison licked slowly at the head of his cock, as if testing to make certain Micah was ready. He looked up at him, met Micah’s eyes, and then gave another of his crooked, mischievous grins. Micah swallowed hard and placed a hand on the top of Addison’s head. Addison licked him up and down before pulling out the bag he’d been holding and tipping out some of the white powder onto the head of Micah’s cock. Micah held his breath as he watched, trying to remain motionless where he stood. Addison used his free hand to pump Micah slowly as he tipped out more and then bent his head to spread it with his tongue. Micah exhaled slowly, licking his lips and restraining himself from thrusting into Addison’s mouth. As soon as Addison was satisfied with his work, he set the baggie on the floor beside him and took Micah between his lips slowly. Micah grunted quietly as Addison’s warm mouth enveloped him, and he watched raptly as Addison let his cock slide in. He knew Addison was teasing him, and he planned to enjoy it while he could. Soon the cocaine on his skin would numb him, and he would only be able to feel the vague suggestion of what Addison’s tongue was doing to him.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux That vague suggestion and watching Addison on his knees would keep Micah maddeningly hard, though. Hard enough to fuck Addison for hours after the other man’s high set in. Micah reached down and ran his hand along the side of Addison’s face and through his hair to grip it tightly. Addison never stopped what he was doing. Micah could already feel himself going numb where the cocaine had touched him, and he groaned in welcome frustration. The frustration was part of the appeal, after all. As soon as he made a sound, Addison let him slide out of his mouth, and he stood, licking at Micah’s stomach and chest again as he gained his feet once more. They stared at each other in the insidious yellow light, hearing nothing but the sounds of the late-night traffic and the comforting clink-clink of the fan overhead. Micah reached for the other man and slid his hands down the sides of his torso to his hips and back up again, just enjoying the way Addison felt in his arms. Addison raised his hand wordlessly and showed Micah the two fingers that were still laced with the white powder in an incongruous peace sign. Micah cocked his head at him and parted his lips slightly, and Addison ran his fingers along the inside of Micah’s lower gum, his eyes never leaving Micah’s. His fingers slid out of Micah’s mouth, along his lower lip and his cheek to grip Micah’s chin. He smiled and kissed Micah hungrily, biting at his lip gently. Micah held to him, hugging him close.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Addison pulled away from him, then began to lower himself back to his knees. Micah tried to keep him on his feet, wanting more of the sensual kiss as a slight buzz began to settle around him, but Addison slid out of his grasp. He took Micah into his mouth once more, quickening his movements when Micah grasped his hair again. He knew what he was doing to Micah, driving him slowly but surely to a frustrated, aggressive, violent fucking. The violence was part of the appeal, after all.

DETECTIVE Sam Walker sighed loudly and lowered the camera he held, looking down and pursing his lips thoughtfully. He had snapped a few pictures when the two men had entered the apartment, and more when the bag of what appeared to be cocaine had made an appearance, but had stopped soon after. He wasn’t quite sure why, other than he now felt more like a voyeur than a cop. “Kinky,” Morgan observed wryly as he watched through a small pair of binoculars. “Gives new meaning to the phrase blow job, huh?” Sam muttered flatly. Morgan barked a laugh and shook his head. “But I don’t get it,” he huffed after a moment of listening to the relative silence coming over the long-range listening devices. “Isn’t blow supposed to be a numbing agent?” he asked finally.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Yep,” Sam answered as he looked back up at the open doors of the balcony of Micah Parrish’s studio apartment. He couldn’t help but wonder the same thing Morgan was wondering. Where the hell was the appeal in that? “What’s the point of getting head when you can’t feel it?” Morgan asked dubiously, echoing Sam’s thoughts. “What’s the point of fucking when you can’t feel it?” “Maybe he likes it like that,” Sam answered with a careless shrug. He didn’t want to think too hard about it. Other people’s kinks made his head hurt. “The high from oral ingestion is pretty weak too,” he added thoughtfully, trying to see behind the thought processes of Addison Satterwight. “Won’t kill you, not likely to get you hooked, unless you do it every fucking hour. Smart kid.” Morgan huffed in disagreement and went back to his surveillance notes. Sam glanced over at him and then back up at the windows. Their long-range microphones were producing very few sounds. Sam found it odd that neither man had spoken a word to each other during the entire time they had been following them. They’d picked them up leaving the gates of the country club over an hour ago. Even now, well into the spectacle, they weren’t making a lot of noise. It could mean a lot of things, the fact that the two of them didn’t speak. It could mean that they knew they were being followed and were keeping silent so they didn’t implicate themselves in anything, in which case buying smack on the strip had been pretty goddamned stupid. It could also mean that they didn’t have much to talk about,

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux which would imply that they were each just there for the sex, drugs, and murder-for-shitloads-of-money plots. It could also mean that Addison, who was reportedly a bit of a jabbermouth, just had his mouth full at the moment. “You really like the brothers for this thing?” Sam asked after a moment of thoughtful silence. “Not the other brother,” Morgan answered almost immediately. “But him and his buddy up there? Oh, yeah,” he said emphatically with a point of his pen toward the windows. “I mean, would you let someone put cocaine on your johnson and risk forever losing feeling in it?” he inquired of Sam incredulously. Sam grinned ruefully and shook his head in answer. “No, that definitely takes a certain type of… trust.” “That guy would do anything for Satterwight,” Morgan continued. “Anything. Mark my words, man, they’re good for this. We just have to stay on Satterwight until he fucks up. And with this fucking guy, he’s into so much shit you know he’ll do it sooner rather than later. We’ll nail ’em for it.” Sam watched his partner for a long moment and then looked back up at the balcony. A grunt came over the set of headphones Sam had cocked onto one ear earlier. He raised his camera and peered through the long-range lens to see past the open blinds once more, just in time to see Parrish pull Satterwight up off his knees by his hair and shove him at the bed. The angle obscured anything more. Sam lowered the camera again and frowned thoughtfully. The sounds of pleasure being emitted by the

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux surveillance equipment grew more frequent and insistent as Sam sat with his head lowered and listened with a frown. “What’s wrong with you?” Morgan asked as he glanced at Sam. Sam grimaced and shrugged. “Something about this case,” he muttered without looking up from the Ford logo on the steering wheel. “Bugs me.” “You mean besides following this wingnut around and recording nothing but low-grade porn?” Morgan asked with another jab of his pen in the direction of the darkened windows of Micah Parrish’s apartment. “We have to supplement our income somehow,” Sam joked weakly. “Seriously,” Morgan grunted as he went back to writing notes in his log. “You think your people would buy this shit?” he asked as he wrote. “My people?” Sam asked as he looked at his partner in amusement. “You mean white people?” “No, man, you know, you don’t-ask-don’t-tell types,” Morgan answered as he grinned down at his pad of paper. Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I wouldn’t take my word for what passes these days,” he answered easily. “What, not eatin’ good in the gayborhood lately?” Morgan asked. Sam barked a laugh. He had no idea how Ray Morgan said some of these things with a straight face.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Get back to your damn notes,” he ordered fondly. Morgan snickered quietly, never having looked up from his log. After a moment he began shaking his head as he wrote. “Everyone we’ve talked to says this kid is so smart,” he mused. “He must be hiding it well,” he mumbled. “That was my point,” Sam said as he looked up and glanced at his partner. “If he’s even marginally intelligent then he has to know we’d at least be checking up on him and his brother. I mean, I’m talking not wearing a helmet kind of IQ, here,” he said emphatically. Morgan snickered quietly as he continued writing his observations. “And we know he’s not stupid. But the first thing he does is go to a nightclub and buy blow right under our noses,” Sam continued in a mystified voice. “We should have followed him in,” Morgan muttered with a shake of his head. “Yeah, because you’d really blend,” Sam countered wryly. “I don’t give a shit about coke dealers,” he added thoughtfully. “Is this kid really capable of pulling this thing off like we think it went down?” he posed. Morgan shrugged. “Anything’s possible,” he pointed out. “I mean, this took patience,” Sam continued. “We know he’s smart enough to do it, but is he patient enough for it? As coked out as he is?” Morgan shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t peg him as ate up when we first saw him,” he observed. “Maybe it’s just an ice cream habit.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Sam nodded grudgingly. Morgan was right; Satterwight hadn’t struck him as a constant user, either. If anything he was using light. There was still life behind his eyes. “And in our scenario, the final dose was brought on because the perp ran out of patience,” Morgan pointed out to poke one more hole in Sam’s questioning. Sam shook his head and looked back up at the window. “I don’t know. I just feel like I’m missing something,” he muttered. “Yeah, your bed,” Morgan grunted. Sam laughed softly. They sat in the car sweating together in silence for a few minutes. They had the windows cracked, and they were both in their street clothes, thin polo shirts and khakis that were meant for golf courses and wicking moisture, but it was still stifling in the unmarked Ford. And it smelled like some sort of food Sam couldn’t quite identify. Mayonnaise and something else. Vinegar. Cole slaw, maybe? There was really no telling. Sam was certain he didn’t really want to know. Morgan finally glanced over at him and cleared his throat. “You know we’re going to have to talk to Parrish, right?” he said. “Yeah, so?” Sam answered. They were both studiously ignoring the sounds coming from the microphone now. “We might have to lean on him,” Morgan continued. Sam made a gesture with his hand for his partner to get to the point.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Are you gonna be able to do that?” Morgan asked in exasperation. “Why wouldn’t I?” Sam asked in confusion. “Well, because you’re both….” Morgan made an ineffectual gesture with his hand toward the window across the street. “What, Ray?” Sam prodded in exasperation. “Are you gonna be able to slam this guy for being queer if it comes to that?” Morgan asked finally, sounding both uncomfortable and relieved as he asked it. “It might be our only angle.” Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back into his seat. “I’m an equal-opportunity asshole, all right?” he finally said with a sigh. He sat and stared out the windshield of the unmarked car, not really looking at anything. From here they couldn’t see what was happening in Parrish’s apartment without a periscope, anyway. They could hear it, though. At least they knew why Satterwight was fucking around with Parrish, anyway. They were still going strong. Sam shook off that thought and frowned harder. It wouldn’t be easy, getting to them. They were going to close ranks. Morgan was right; their only way to get to Parris might just be that he was gay. And that didn’t sit well with Sam.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux He could feel Morgan’s eyes on him. He glanced sideways and then rolled his eyes. “What?” he demanded irritably. “You need a hug?” Morgan asked, barely able to keep the shake of laughter out of his voice. Sam didn’t even look at him as he reached out and smacked him on the side of the head.

THE soft knock on the office door provided Brayden with a welcome distraction from his attempts at straightening the mess the police search had made of his office. He had watched Addison walk off to go God knew where with Micah and then found himself with nothing to do but worry and clean. It had been midnight when he finally gave in and made the call he’d been trying to convince himself he didn’t want to make. “Come,” he called curtly as he stood up from where he had been kneeling and gathering several stacks of papers. The door opened soundlessly and Daniel Grace poked his head through the door. “You know, midnight summonses aren’t really in my job description,” he greeted wryly. “I know. I’m sorry,” Brayden offered softly as he motioned for Daniel to come in and close the door. He didn’t feel all too badly about calling Daniel at home and asking to meet him. He knew Daniel had been awake. The man never seemed to sleep, Brayden had found. “I need to know what

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux you told those detectives the other day,” he said to Daniel without preamble. Daniel pursed his lips and looked at Brayden blankly for so long that it began to make Brayden nervous. Not much could make Brayden nervous, and certainly not many people could manage the feat. It was one of the reasons he admired Daniel so much. And one of the reasons he often wanted to smack him. “I told them the truth,” Daniel finally answered with a shrug. Brayden narrowed his eyes in annoyance, but he took a deep breath to calm himself. The last thing he wanted was to go off half-cocked and start shouting at Daniel now. “What exactly is the truth?” he asked in exasperation. “I need to know what they were asking, Daniel. What are they looking into?” “They were asking about the antifreeze,” Daniel told him with another careless shrug. Brayden found himself struggling to suppress the unfamiliar urge to throttle the man. Daniel, with his uncanny ability to read people, seemed to sense his inner struggle against the violence and he smiled slightly, as if he were enjoying frustrating his boss. The smile dropped suddenly and he was once again serious. “They were also asking about your brother,” he told Brayden with a hint of unease.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “My brother?” Brayden asked with a frown. He had expected that, in a way. Just not quite so soon. “What about him?” he asked with a hard look at Daniel. Daniel gave another shrug, causing Brayden to growl at him threateningly. Daniel looked at him for a long moment and then cocked his head to the side. “They were asking about his… extracurricular activities,” he finally answered carefully. “And about his relationship with your father.” Brayden licked his lips slowly, frowning at Daniel thoughtfully. “His relationship,” he repeated. “You know,” Daniel responded in a low voice. “Did they get along, what did your dad think of Addison’s sexual inclinations, had I seen Addison around the storage shed. That sort of thing,” he rattled off wryly. Brayden’s jaw tightened. “What did you tell them?” he finally asked. Daniel pursed his lips and shrugged yet again. He continued to meet Brayden’s eyes unerringly when he answered with, “The truth.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux

IV

THE relentless pounding that woke him was not, as Micah at first suspected, solely in his head. He rolled gracelessly out of bed, distractedly wondering where in the hell Addison had gone as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and trudged to the door. The pounding continued, and Micah winced at the noise as he got closer. “All right, all right!” he called as he undid the dead bolt with stiff fingers. “Hold on,” he muttered as he pulled the latch and unlocked the last lock. He opened the door and peered out, only to be met with two Miami-Dade police detective badges being shown to him. “Mr. Parrish, we’d like a moment of your time,” one of the detectives said to him softly. Micah blinked at them and looked around the little apartment with a frown. Where had Addison gone? He had indulged far more than Micah the night before; he should have still been sprawled in bed and drooling. He was nowhere to be found, though, and Micah’s apartment wasn’t big enough for him to be hiding unless he was hanging off the balcony by his fingernails. “Yeah, okay,” Micah muttered after a moment. He pushed the door closed and undid the chain, and then he

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux opened the door wider and gestured grudgingly for the two men to come in. “I’m Detective Morgan; this is Detective Walker,” the black detective offered as they entered the apartment. They both looked around the apartment critically as Micah closed the door again. “It’s not a bad time, is it?” Morgan asked pointedly as he looked over Micah’s barely dressed body and then nodded at the rumpled clothing on the floor and the unmade bed. “It’s before noon, man,” Micah mumbled as he ran his hand through his hair and fought back a yawn. “That’s always a bad time,” he informed them, refusing to be embarrassed by the state of his home or himself. “You’re the tennis pro at the club, are you not?” Walker asked him softly. “And you give some of their sailing lessons as well, is that right?” “It’s my day off,” Micah answered with a frown. “You don’t seem surprised to see us,” the man observed with a narrowing of his green eyes. “The club’s a tight place. Word’s gotten around about your investigation,” Micah responded with a narrowing of his own green eyes. “You’re causing a lot of undue grief, you know that?” “Yeah, Cain and Abel are breaking our hearts,” Walker muttered with a roll of his eyes. He looked around the oneroom apartment with what Micah thought was undue interest. “Word is, you and the younger Bainbridge are very

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux close,” the man practically cooed with a condescending smirk as he looked back at Micah. “His last name is Satterwight,” Micah responded softly. He ignored the rest of what the detective was implying. He had been called every name under the sun for his sexual preferences and been given every sort of leer, knowing smirk, and disdainful grimace possible. Hell, he’d even tolerated the occasional physical bullying. This prick of a police detective was not going to make him hang his head in shame. Especially not where Addison was concerned. “Did Reggie Bainbridge know about you and his son?” Morgan asked in a much more neutral tone. Micah looked at the man, momentarily nonplussed by the question. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Word is, ol’ Reg didn’t like Addison’s taste in partners,” Walker offered. “What of it?” Micah asked in annoyance. “Lots of dads don’t like it when their sons like dick,” he responded acidly. Walker snorted in amusement. “My old man certainly didn’t. That’s why he knocked me around until I got bigger than he was,” Micah spat at him. Walker merely nodded his agreement as he turned and began to walk slowly around the apartment. Micah watched him warily, wondering again where Addison had gone. He hoped the man had taken what was left of the cocaine with him, at least. If Micah was going to get busted for

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux possession, he at least wanted the drugs to be his when it happened. “We’ve spoken to some of Mr. Satterwight’s previous… partners,” Morgan told Micah gently with an unreadable glance at Walker. “Look dude, whatever you tell me about Addison’s past is not going to shock me all that much,” Micah told the man in agitation. “I know he’s gotten around,” he said distractedly as he watched Walker. He didn’t like the man wandering unchecked through his place. He stopped at the end of Micah’s bed and looked down at the rumpled sheets thoughtfully. Micah shifted uncomfortably and tore his eyes away from the wandering detective to look back at his partner. “You may be surprised to hear that Addison’s father made visits to some of those partners,” Morgan continued, undeterred. Micah blinked at him in surprise. He could only imagine the terror it would cause someone Addison was fucking, to open his door to find Reggie Bainbridge standing there. The man had been scary even when he was smiling. Micah didn’t comment. He felt as if they were trying to corner him, and he told himself to start giving simple yes and no answers. The less he said, the less chance he could hurt Addison. He’d been right; the cops were looking at him. What he apparently hadn’t been right about was the motive. Past lovers didn’t have anything to do with inheritance.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Some of them claim Reggie Bainbridge threatened them or offered to pay them off if they would leave his son alone,” the detective continued neutrally. Micah huffed and crossed his arms over his bare chest. The hard muscles of his tanned arms jumped as he tensed. “That sounds like him. And?” he asked in irritation. “Did Reginald Bainbridge come to you at any point in your relationship with Addison?” Walker asked from the other side of the room. “No,” Micah answered immediately through gritted teeth. “You sure about that, Mr. Parrish?” Morgan asked softly. “Life could get very interesting if you’re lying to us.” “I think you’d better leave. Now,” Micah said to him coldly as he stepped aside, held his hand out, and gestured to the door. “One more question, if you will,” Walker murmured as he strolled back toward them nonchalantly. Micah bit the inside of his cheek to make sure he didn’t mouth off to the man. Walker inclined his head and looked Micah over with obvious disdain. “Does Satterwight pay you to use you like he does?” he asked curiously. Micah’s jaw clenched, but he refused to rise to the bait. “We take turns,” he finally said to the man with a defiant sneer.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Walker grinned and chuckled darkly as he brushed past Micah and headed for the door.

ADDISON stood at the courtesy desk, dressed impeccably— as he always was during daylight hours—and looking perfectly sober and normal. Brayden didn’t know how he managed to party all night long and still look like he did the next day. There were never any dark circles under his eyes, never any hard lines around his mouth, never even any bloodshot eyes. Brayden could take Nyquil and wake up twelve hours later looking like he’d just been steamrollered. He stalked up to Addison and leaned over the desk to glare at him as Addison wrote in a logbook. Addison glanced up when he sensed that someone was standing in front of him. He did a double-take and jumped slightly when he found Brayden’s face so close to his. “What?” he exclaimed in surprise. “Jesus,” he huffed as he looked around and rolled his eyes. “Christ, man. What, you forgot to turn off the stealth mode?” he grumbled. The hostess who stood beside him was covering her mouth and trying not to giggle or look at them. “Where have you been?” Brayden demanded angrily. “Brayden, it’s eight o’clock in the morning,” Addison muttered with a shake of his head as he went back to writing

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux in his logbook. His voice was low and rough, as if he might have a cold coming on or a sore throat. Brayden forced himself to not think about what his kid brother might have done to his throat to make it that way. Knowing Addison like he did, the possibilities were literally endless. “Technically,” Addison continued with a wave of his hand, “I won’t be here for another hour, okay? Go give someone else an ulcer ’til then,” he suggested dismissively. “Julie,” Brayden snapped at the hostess. The girl looked up at him with wide eyes and then nodded before scurrying away and leaving them alone to fight. Addison watched her go with a frown and looked back at Brayden in consternation. He reached under the counter and extracted a muffin he had apparently placed there earlier— his breakfast, being saved for later. He handed it to Brayden with a raised eyebrow. “Bran?” he offered sarcastically. “The cops have been all over the fucking place,” Brayden snarled without responding to the proffered muffin. “I’m closing the club for the week,” he declared as Addison’s eyes widened in alarm. “We’ll have some sort of refurbishing work done,” Brayden went on with a wave of his hand at the foyer around them, glancing over his shoulder with a slightly wild look in his normally calm eyes. “Jesus, Brayden,” Addison murmured in concern as he seemingly looked at his brother in a new light. “You’re panicking,” he observed in amused shock.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Yes!” Brayden hissed unashamedly as he glanced around them nervously then lowered his head to glare at Addison. “Well, stop,” Addison urged softly. “You’re freaking me out, man,” he muttered as he closed the logbook and looked over Brayden’s shoulder at the front entrance. Brayden turned to look at the front door to see Micah Parrish standing there and motioning for Addison to come unlock the door. The club wouldn’t open for nearly another hour. “Ugh,” Brayden huffed as Addison went to let the man in. He rested his forehead against the cool wood of the front desk in a rare display of frustration and listened to them greet each other. He was careful not to move his forehead from the greeter’s desk or indicate that he could hear. It wasn’t exactly the lovey-dovey greeting he had expected. “What the fuck happened to you?” Micah hissed as soon as the doors opened. He stepped inside and pulled them closed again with a loud clang. Brayden straightened up and turned to look at them with a frown. “What?” Addison responded in confusion. He was looking at Micah critically and backing away from him slightly, like a man in a museum, backing away from a large painting in order to get the entire picture. “You look like hell,” he observed as he looked Micah up and down. Micah returned the look in exasperation. “What?” innocent.

Addison

asked

74

again,

his

voice

entirely

My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Where the hell did you disappear off to?” Micah asked in agitation. “I have the early shift today. I had to go home and get clothes that didn’t smell like smoke,” Addison explained. “I left a note,” he added defensively as he reached out and brushed at Micah’s shoulder. Micah watched his hands as Addison brushed and tugged at his shirt, straightening it out, and then he pulled at his polo and brushed at the front of it like it might have been habit for Addison to help him spiff up. He seemed to realize what he was doing and he slapped Addison’s hands away with a frustrated growl. Brayden was hard-pressed not to laugh at them. “The cops were at my place this morning,” Micah told Addison in a quiet voice that still managed to carry to Brayden in the empty foyer of the club. “What?” Addison responded angrily, his innocent teasing suddenly forgotten. “Why? What did they want?” “They were asking about you and your dad and….” Micah answered in a worried voice, trailing off with a shake of his head. “Me and my dad and what?” Addison demanded. “The money?” he guessed heatedly. “They want to know how much I inherited?” “No,” Micah answered regretfully. “They were asking about your… past partners,” he said with obvious distaste. “Wanted to know how your dad felt about it all.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Fuck,” Addison spat. Brayden sighed heavily. So that was the angle the investigators were taking. He had so hoped they would go the money route. It would have been easier to deal with. “What did you tell them?” he demanded of Micah. Micah and Addison both turned to stare at him as if they had forgotten he was there. Micah glanced at Addison uneasily and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for Addison’s permission to respond. Addison nodded at him and looked away, rubbing his mouth with his fingertips. “Come to my office,” Brayden growled at them both. “The fucking cops are working together on this; we may as well be too,” he snarled as he turned and headed for the door to one of the various hidden stairwells of the club. The winding stairwell led directly to Brayden’s office. The entrance was hidden in the paneling of the foyer downstairs, and the exit was hidden behind a section of the hexagonal bookshelves in the office wall. It had been added to the original plan of the club by Brayden and Addison’s great-grandfather during construction of the building, but he had never actually put it into use. Not that anyone knew of, anyway. It had remained forgotten and unused ever since the club was built, until Brayden and Addison had found it on one of their midnight forays into the club as children. Brayden stalked around the office as Addison and Micah slipped through the door behind him. It was obvious from Micah’s expression that he hadn’t even suspected the stairwell was there. Brayden knew rumors swirled through

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux the staff about the hidden passages and rooms in the club, but obviously none of the rumors were taken at face value by many of them. “Tell me everything,” Brayden demanded of the two men as soon as he was certain they couldn’t be overheard. He had seen that the duct problem was fixed days ago. “Tell you what?” Addison asked with a huff. “There’s nothing to tell, Brayden!” “Were you followed last knowingly. “What did you do?”

night?”

Brayden

asked

“Nothing… out of the ordinary,” Addison muttered with a glance at Micah. “And I don’t know if we were followed,” he spat sarcastically. “I missed How to Spot a Tail day when I was at Camp Superspy.” Brayden shook his head angrily, but he couldn’t manage to respond with anything other than a spitting sound. “Sonny, they were asking about your dad and how he felt about your… preferences, was how they put it,” Micah murmured as he began to pace. “They wanted to know about him and how he’d treated you, how he’d treated your past lovers, and they asked if he’d ever threatened me to stay away from you,” he supplied worriedly. “It sounded like they were looking for motive.” “They’ve already got motive!” Addison shouted in agitation as Brayden stared at Micah. “They’ve got about twenty million motives!” Addison continued, oblivious to both Micah’s discomfort and Brayden’s annoyance.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “They have to know that inheritance wouldn’t stand up in court,” Brayden argued quietly as he found his calm once more and began trying to think rationally. “We both have money and Father was never stingy in that respect. Your boy’s right; they’re probably looking for something more concrete.” “My boy?” Addison echoed incredulously, momentarily sidetracked as he looked at Brayden oddly. Brayden shrugged helplessly and gestured at Micah. “Look, whatever,” Micah interjected with a wave of his hand. “The point is, they’re really digging, Sonny. You’ve got to start taking this more seriously,” he insisted. “I’m calling John,” Brayden announced with a shake of his head. He headed for the desk and the telephone. “You’re calling our lawyer?” Addison asked with a sneer. “Yeah, Brayden, that won’t just scream ‘we killed our daddy’ to the cops. We need a better plan than what screaming ‘I want my lawyer’ entails.” “Fuck you,” Brayden responded matter-of-factly as he picked up the phone and dialed. “I’m calling John,” he repeated as the phone rang at the other end. Addison was at his side in a heartbeat. He placed his finger on the receiver gently and looked up at Brayden expressionlessly. Brayden turned on him in outrage. Addison shook his head and held Brayden’s gaze unerringly. “Don’t panic,” his younger brother whispered to him seriously.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden stopped short and simply stared at him. “Trust me,” Addison urged in the same soft, collected whisper. Brayden met his eyes for a brief moment of indecision before nodding and slowly setting the phone back in its cradle.

“MR. Grace?” Detective Ray Morgan called as he and Sam Walker stood in the gaping opening to the club’s large garage. There was a clank and a clatter and then a rolling sound as someone pushed out from under a van to their left that was marked with the club’s simple, classy logo. Daniel Grace lay on his back on the mechanic’s dolly. His hands and his blue work coveralls were covered in grease and grime. He squinted up at them from where he lay on the dolly, his hand resting on his stomach and still holding the wrench he’d been using. “Officers,” he greeted dryly. “Detectives, actually,” restrained a smirk.

Morgan

corrected

as

Sam

“Well, come back when you’re a captain, Detective Morgan, and we’ll celebrate,” Grace drawled as he sat up and rested his elbows on his knees.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Captain Morgan. That’s original,” Sam returned in the same dry tone Grace was using. He moved further into the hangar-like garage and looked around idly. “We’ve never heard that one before. Next you’ll be calling me Johnny, I guess?” Instead of another smartass comment like Sam was expecting, Grace simply stared at them expectantly, unmoving as he sat on the dolly. His patient demeanor was unsettling, and Sam found himself torn between liking him and disliking him. Disliking him quite a lot. Morgan cleared his throat and glanced at Sam. “Do you have time for a few more questions, Mr. Grace?” he asked as he looked back down at the club’s head of maintenance. Grace shrugged negligently and set his wrench aside. He hefted himself smoothly to his feet. Sam noticed with a certain sort of admiration that the dolly upon which he’d been sitting didn’t even slide on its rollers as Grace stood away from it. Nothing about the man was wasted or unintentional, it seemed. Sam wondered if it was his military background or if it was just a quality that was ingrained in the guy’s nature. Either way, it was a little unnerving. “Anything you want to know, Detectives,” the man offered as he walked over to a mechanic’s workstation and reached for a bottle of Lava soap. Sam watched him wash his hands and slowly followed along. He didn’t like that the man was moving, guiding them and forcing them to tag along as if he controlled the interview. From the look on his expressive partner’s face, neither did Morgan.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Morgan moved around to Grace’s other side and they flanked him as he washed the grease from his hands methodically. “Don’t you have mechanics who do this sort of thing?” Morgan questioned curiously. “Some things you just have to do yourself,” Grace observed in answer. “What kinds of things?” Morgan asked with a cock of his head. “All kinds neutrally.

of

things,

Detective,”

Grace

answered

Sam and Morgan shared a bemused look. Sam wouldn’t want to have to drag Grace into an interrogation room. The guy might like it too much. “How well do you know the Bainbridge brothers?” Sam asked Grace. He reached to fiddle with a pencil sitting in a coffee mug. It had a troll doll with pink hair where the eraser should have been. Sam fluffed the hair up and shook his head, not even finding it odd that the thing was in here. “I know them well enough not to call them that.” Grace chuckled as he turned off the water and dried his hands on a cleaner rag than the one he had hanging from his back pocket. “What do you want to know?” he asked obligingly. “How long have you worked for the club?” Morgan inquired.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “About ten years,” Grace answered, his voice that strange combination of gravel and silk that Sam found so unusual. “So you started during the period while Addison Satterwight was gone,” Sam observed in a seemingly distracted voice. “Yep,” Grace answered shortly. “Anything strike you about him when you finally met him?” Morgan prodded. “That kid was sharp as a carpet tack,” Grace answered wryly. It seemed to Sam that everything Grace said was some sort of private joke. The tone of his voice made him sound perpetually amused. “Don’t get me wrong,” Grace continued. “Brayden Bainbridge is a smart guy; observant, methodical, kind of stressed out all the time, though,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving the rag and his hands as he dried them. “But Addison,” he shook his head and hummed. “There’s a mind that never stopped working. You could see it behind his eyes when you looked at him, little hamster on a wheel, always running. He used to play chess with the members, sometimes, before he got too strung out to sit still that long. Not one of those old bastards ever beat him. Kid could use a pawn like I’d never seen,” he mused. Sam frowned and met Morgan’s eyes again. If Grace was trying to tell them something, he was being very vague about it. A straightforward guy like this, Sam didn’t think he’d use subtlety to get his point across. He was probably merely relating to them the only story he knew about Addison Satterwight firsthand.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Chess, huh?” Sam asked as he leaned against the sink’s counter. “You play chess, Detective Walker?” Grace asked. “I’ve been known to, from time to time.” “Always thought of it as a rich man’s pastime, myself,” Grace responded with a negligent shrug as he scrubbed at his callused hands. “You might challenge Addison to a game,” he suggested evenly. “Him or Brayden; either one can beat a man with their eyes closed.” “When have you had occasion to play a rich man’s game with Addison or Brayden?” Morgan asked pointedly. “Even rich men get bored of losing,” Grace answered with a smirk. “Have you ever been involved with Addison Satterwight, Daniel?” Sam asked with a cock of his head. “Not exactly my preferred gender, Detective,” Grace answered with a wry smile. The man was completely unflappable. Sam nodded but didn’t continue the line of questioning. “How did everyone around the club react when Addison came back?” he asked instead after a long moment. “Oh, I don’t know. Lots of people were just surprised he hadn’t gone and got himself killed. Mr. Bainbridge… Brayden, that is, not his daddy, was especially… I wouldn’t say excited,” Grace murmured thoughtfully. “He doesn’t get excited. But he was desperate to keep Addison here once he got here.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “What about their father?” Sam asked curiously. “What about him?” Grace asked as he finally set the rag down and turned to face Sam, turning his back completely on Morgan. Sam could not remember a person ever having intentionally turned away from one of them during an interview. If anything, it unnerved both detectives even further. Morgan twitched uncertainly but didn’t move, instead standing stubbornly behind the man and watching Sam over Grace’s shoulder incredulously. Sam was hard-pressed not to smile at the look on his face. “Was he happy to see Addison come home?” Sam asked as he cocked his head at Grace, dutifully ignoring Morgan. Grace actually laughed at the question. “Reggie was never happy unless he had control,” Grace murmured with obvious distaste for his subject. “And from what I hear, that kid was just like his mama. They were the only things Reggie could never get under his foot.” Sam pursed his lips and glanced over Grace’s shoulder at Morgan pointedly. His partner shrugged. What Grace was saying confirmed what several others had told them about Addison, his mother, and the elder Bainbridge. “Was he abusive?” Morgan asked. Grace glanced over his shoulder and then looked back at Sam with a raised eyebrow. “You knew who Reggie Bainbridge was. You seen pictures. He was a big man, and I’m not just talking his

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux personality,” he answered in his oddly soft manner. “Brayden Bainbridge is almost four inches over six feet and he still had to look up at his daddy when they stood toe to toe. The guy had to drive himself around in the golf carts ’cause his shoulders were too wide for another person to sit beside him. If that man had been smacking Addison Satterwight around, you’d-a been burying that kid a long time ago,” he surmised bluntly. Sam nodded almost unconsciously. He had met Reggie Bainbridge in person once. The man had been the size of a bull. Grace was right; if he had been physically violent there would be nothing left of Addison, whose wiry frame barely cleared six feet. But that kid was all kinds of fucked up. Something had to have made him that way. “What about the mother?” he asked Grace. “Did Reggie smack her around?” “Now that, I couldn’t say. That was before my time,” Grace answered with another shrug. “Rumor was she was fooling around on him and he found out. Next thing anyone knew, she was going for a midnight swim in the ocean after drinking one too many and drowned.” Morgan moved away thoughtfully, looking back at Sam with a frown. Sam met his eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly. He knew what Morgan was thinking. Natalie Satterwight was a bit of a thorn in their sides. To a man, everyone they’d spoken with remembered her as a sweet, caring mother and a wonderful, free-spirited woman. By all accounts, she had lived a full life, though it had been short. It wasn’t her life they were concerned with, though; it was her death that troubled them. Some people told them with all

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux confidence that she had killed herself. Most insisted the accident had been a tragic thing that had taken a mother from her children too early. Others hinted at the fact that she may have been helped along by her overbearing, eviltempered husband. At a glance, it was easy to dismiss it as something that had happened more than twenty years ago and move on, but if Reggie Bainbridge had killed Addison’s mother when he was little, it could point to yet another motive. Even if Reggie hadn’t done it, all it took was for Addison to believe he had and they could pin it on him as a reason to kill his own father. The inheritance would never hold up if that was all they brought to court. Reggie’s treatment of Addison’s lovers was a step in the right direction but still flimsy when put in front of a jury that would be looking at Addison Satterwight’s big brown Bambi eyes as they made their decision. “Did the brothers blame their father for her death?” Sam asked Grace carefully. “I couldn’t say,” Grace answered with a careless shrug. “Never seemed like it.” “Do either of them ever mention their mothers?” Sam dug. “Have any pictures of them sitting around?” “They never mention them to their staff,” Grace answered with a wry smile and a shake of his head. “What about their chess partners?” Morgan asked pointedly. “I only play a losing game once, Detective,” Grace informed Morgan with the same amused tone he’d kept

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux throughout the interview. “I didn’t go back for a rematch. Besides, they don’t talk personal stuff with anyone.” Sam nodded and pursed his lips. That was just about the same answer everyone gave them. It was hard digging up dirt on a family that so carefully guarded its privacy. The only real friends the brothers had seemed to be fiercely loyal, like Micah Parrish. That, or they were all more scared of the Bainbridge brothers than they were of the policemen asking the questions. “What else can you tell us about Reggie?” Morgan questioned softly as he moved further away. Grace shrugged and looked away at the open garage door. “You think his boys poisoned him with antifreeze,” he observed softly. Sam raised an eyebrow in surprise. They hadn’t released that information, but he supposed the man they had questioned about the antifreeze would have figured that much out. “I know one thing about Reggie,” Grace continued as he looked back at Sam and met his eyes unerringly. “He hated his boys just as much as they hated him. More than that, though, he was scared of ’em. If one of them had handed him a drink and said ‘here daddy, I made you this’, ain’t no way he’d a drunk it. You’re barking up the wrong tree, going after those boys. You ask me who the evil bastard is here, I’d say to you it’s Reggie Bainbridge.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux THE doorbell rang at a time it didn’t usually ring. In fact, Addison wasn’t sure he’d ever actually heard the doorbell ring. He sat up and forced his eyes open, squinting against the bright light that streamed through the windows facing the beach. The sun coming off the ocean was something Addison hated with a passion. The moon was supposed to glint off the waves. The sun was supposed to mind its own business. He turned his head and stared at the time on the clock as the doorbell rang again. 9:08. On his day off. “Got to be the cops,” he muttered to himself as he pushed at the blanket that had wound itself around his legs. “What is it?” Micah muttered sleepily from under his pillow. “Don’t worry about it,” Addison advised as he pushed himself out of bed. He couldn’t quite remember how or why they had ended up at his place instead of Micah’s last night. He just remembered Micah bitching about wanting clean sheets. He grabbed the robe that hung on a hook near the door and shrugged into it as he trudged through the bungalow. The doorbell rang again. Addison shivered in the cool morning air and tied the robe around himself, moving toward the kitchen. He wasn’t in a hurry. At 9 a.m. whoever it was could fucking wait. He poured himself a glass of orange juice, taking a sip to test if it was still good as the doorbell chimed again.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux It was an odd sound. Not the usual ding-dong. It was a little annoying, actually. If he thought he’d ever have to hear the sound again he might consider having it changed, but no one ever rang Addison’s doorbell. It wasn’t every day the cops came calling to sniff around for a motive for murder. He sighed and carried his glass of orange juice with him to answer the door. He wasn’t surprised when he opened the door to find Detective Walker standing there. He was surprised, however, to see that he was alone. His partner, whose name Addison was certain had been something to do with pirates but at the moment escaped him, wasn’t with him. “Detective,” Addison greeted drolly. “What can I do for you at this ungodly hour of the morning?” he asked politely. “I’m sorry; did I come at a bad time?” Walker asked knowingly. “No, I was just about to slip arsenic into Micah’s toothpaste,” Addison deadpanned. “You just saved his life.” Walker raised an eyebrow. “Funny,” he commented flatly. “May I come in?” he requested. Addison took a sip of his orange juice and pondered him for a moment. Sarcasm was an easy and sometimes entertaining way of testing people. If they returned it with sarcasm of their own, Addison tended to like them. If they took it literally, Addison wrote them off as idiots and went on his way without another thought about them.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux The group that gave Addison trouble was the people who recognized the sarcasm as what it essentially was; a lazy man’s attempt at cleverness. Addison pursed his lips and nodded. “Do you need to come inside to surreptitiously observe my home and belongings, or can we take this to the patio and leave Micah out of it?” he asked seriously. “Is there anything I need to observe?” Walker responded without blinking an eye. “You could just show it to me and save me the work.” Addison decided that he might like the detective, on the surface at least. “Not that I can think of offhand,” he admitted. He stepped out onto the deck and pulled the door closed behind him. “Can I offer you orange juice that may or may not still be good?” he asked as he led the way around the house to the deck that faced the ocean. “No,” Walker answered as he followed. “Not a risk-taker, then,” Addison observed. “Good for you, Detective,” he said wryly, taking another sip as he sat in one of the teak Adirondack gliders. Walker sat in the one next to it, looking at the table between them that held a frosted-glass chess board. Addison glanced down at it, then back up at Walker. “Do you play, Detective?” he asked in an off-handed manner. “Occasionally,” Walker admitted carefully. He looked from the board to Addison.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Well, give me your opener, Detective Walker,” Addison invited with a wave of his hand at the board. “We’ll see how the game goes.” Walker examined him for a long moment, and Addison just calmly sipped at his orange juice and rocked gently. It was a very dangerous game he was playing with the detective. If he made a wrong step, he could very well end up on the wrong side of those prison bars. But he just couldn’t help but enjoy it a little bit. A real live game of chess. Walker finally seemed to come to a decision, and he reached out slowly and picked up one of the clear glass pieces. He turned it over in his hand, looking at it admiringly, then set it down again to make his first move. “Hand-blown glass,” Addison informed him. Half of the pieces were clear, with the occasional bubble and imperfection that testified to the fact they were hand-crafted. The other half were tinted a rich red that cast a pink shadow over the board when the sun hit them. The board itself was etched black-and-white glass. “A gift from my brother.” “It’s a beautiful set,” Walker responded sincerely. “Did you know of your father’s intentions to change his will?” he asked abruptly. “Father changed his will every year or two,” Addison answered as he reached out and moved a red pawn. “How so?” Walker asked as he made another move. Addison shrugged and moved again. “Mostly because of the banks. He’d get pissed at the investors at one bank,

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux move all his money somewhere else. He had to change the will every time he did it to specify the institution. Why?” Walker shook his head minutely and moved again. “The papers we found in his desk included a will.” “I’m sure he had copies all over,” Addison responded with a shrug. He moved a piece, capturing a pawn, and then took another sip of his orange juice. He shivered violently with the bitter taste. He reached out and poured it carefully into the cracks of the deck, and then he set the glass down beside him. When he turned back to the detective, the man was trying not to smirk at him. “This particular copy wrote you and your brother completely out of it,” Walker informed him as he moved another piece. Addison stopped rocking briefly but then pushed his toe against the warm deck and nodded. He sighed heavily as he began rocking again. “I can’t really say I’m surprised,” he finally said grimly. He turned his head to study the board and moved another red piece. “Not surprised,” Walker repeated as he moved and captured one of Addison’s pawns. “But angry?” “It’s a lot of money to lose out on,” Addison commented in place of an answer. He moved his bishop and glanced up at Walker. “Is that where you’re looking for motive?” Walker merely shrugged. “You tell me,” he invited with another move to capture Addison’s bishop. Addison shrugged. “Brayden and I both had trusts we received when we turned twenty-one. They were… sizable,”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux he informed Walker carefully. “If Father wrote us out of his will, neither of us would starve,” he said with a move of his queen. “Drug habits can be expensive,” Walker observed as he pushed one of the glass pieces into a new square. “I’m sure you’ve either already run my financial information or you’re going to very soon, Detective Walker,” Addison responded in amusement. He moved a piece carelessly. “I’ll OD before I can spend all that on drugs.” Walker cocked his head, his expression a mixture of annoyance and pity. Addison had seen that look before, mostly on his brother. “Did your father ever threaten anyone you were involved with?” Walker asked after a moment, sliding a piece across the board as he did so. “Not that I’m aware,” Addison said with a shake of his head. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Sounds like something he’d do,” he mused. “But he was more inclined toward paying them to go away. Hell, a couple times I’d get involved with a friend who needed money just because I knew he’d pay them to get out of town.” Walker closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead slowly. He leaned back in his rocker and looked out at the ocean over the dunes that protected the deck. Addison tried not to smile as he watched the man. He almost felt sorry for him. “Was that all, Detective?” Addison asked him after a moment.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Walker gave a slight smile and turned his head to look at Addison. “It’s your move,” he reminded. Addison nodded and smirked at him. “I know. I just thought you’d like to finish your questions before I check you,” he told the detective seriously. Walker’s eyes flickered in surprise, and he looked down at the board suspiciously, as if expecting it to be a trick. He looked back up at Addison after a moment of studying the board, and Addison shrugged and reached out to move his piece. “Check, Detective,” he murmured. Walker leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. After a long moment, he moved a piece. “Did you want your daddy dead, Sonny?” Walker asked quietly. “Sometimes,” Addison answered in all honesty as he immediately moved his own piece. “Check.” Walker turned his head to look at him. He looked down at the board and silently moved one of his pieces. Addison glanced down at it and then back up at Walker expectantly. “Did you kill him, Sonny?” Walker asked him in a low voice. Addison frowned slightly. That wasn’t the question he’d been expecting. If anything, he’d expected the focus to shift to Brayden next. Maybe even Micah. But he recovered

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux quickly and shook his head. “My father killed himself,” he said softly as he moved a piece. “Checkmate.”

BRAYDEN opened the door already knowing who it would be. Addison had called him as soon as Detective Walker left his house to warn him that the man would be coming to him next. Brayden hadn’t even bothered getting formally dressed. He still wore the linen khaki pants and white T-shirt he’d been lounging in as he read on his patio. He was slightly less imposing when he wasn’t in a suit, but he didn’t really care about things like that anymore. Life was so much easier now that he didn’t have to be his father’s son. “Detective,” Brayden greeted when he opened the door. He’d taken as much time as possible to calm himself before the detective got here. He could still feel his hands shaking with nerves, though. “I assume you were expecting me,” Walker returned as he stood on the front stoop. “I didn’t think people in your line of work made assumptions,” Brayden responded as he turned and waved for Walker to follow. “We make them,” Walker responded as he followed Brayden in. He was looking around Brayden’s home curiously, probably wondering why neither Brayden nor Addison had moved into the family mansion yet.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “What can I do for you, Detective?” Brayden asked with a long-suffering sigh. He led the man into his study, where he’d settled to read and enjoy a plate of apple slices and cheese cubes after receiving Addison’s call. He didn’t offer any food or drink. Any man investigating the murder of someone who was poisoned probably wouldn’t be accepting anything to eat or drink from his suspects. “I’d like to ask you about your father’s will,” Walker told him as he took a seat opposite Brayden. His eyes drifted down to the magnificent chess board Brayden kept on the coffee table. Brayden waited for him to continue, but he seemed distracted by the board. “Do you play chess?” Brayden asked him curiously. “I did,” Walker answered wryly. He looked up at Brayden. “Until I met your brother.” Brayden couldn’t help but smile. “He’s very good, isn’t he?” he said with a hint of pride. Walker nodded. “I think it’s because you don’t expect it of him,” Brayden murmured as he reached out to pick up one of the chess pieces. They were hand-carved out of 10,000-year-old mammoth tusk. Addison had given the set to him on his thirtieth birthday. Brayden didn’t know where his brother had found it. “What do you expect of your brother?” Walker asked him as he pondered the chess set.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden continued to look at the pieces on the board for a few moments before slowly looking up to meet Walker’s eyes. “He didn’t kill our father,” Brayden informed the man in place of an answer. Walker raised an eyebrow. “No one’s accused him of murder, Mr. Bainbridge.” “But you want to,” Brayden said with certainty. He couldn’t help but smile slightly. “You just don’t have the evidence to do it.” “You think we should?” Walker asked evenly. Brayden exhaled slowly and relaxed back into his couch. “I think my father killed himself,” he finally decided. “I think, eventually, you’ll know that too. And I think you should leave now. If word’s going to get around that I’m being interrogated, I’d rather be able to tell the club’s members about gray concrete walls and hard metal chairs.” Walker smiled slowly. “That can be arranged,” he promised as he stood. “I’ll show myself out,” he said as he turned away. Brayden watched him leave with narrowed eyes. His heart was racing and he felt slightly lightheaded. He wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing.

“NEXT case we get, you get to be the asshole,” Sam Walker grumbled to his partner as they sat at their desks and ate their cold lunches.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “But you’re so good at it,” Ray Morgan protested in genuine distress. Sam grumbled as he leafed through the files on his desk. They had hit a block in the road and they were now spinning their wheels in frustration. Addison Satterwight was their most likely suspect, but they were having all kinds of trouble making a motive stick. They didn’t technically need a motive, but since they had absolutely no solid evidence, they needed something in order to go on with the investigation. “We know this kid killed his dad,” Morgan stated in annoyance, obviously thinking along the same lines as Sam. “We just don’t have anything on him. We can bring him in on the drug possession charge,” he suggested as he rested his head against his hand and stared down at his notes. “Hold him ’til he starts detoxing, then lean on him.” “That charge’d never hold up long enough to even book him,” Sam sighed. “So we go back to the crime itself,” Morgan suggested in frustration. “We’ve backtracked the night of the murder,” Sam responded as he pointed up at the whiteboard they had commandeered from a protesting lab tech the day before. “There was a party at the club. Reggie missed his nightly bourbon but was supplied instead with what he thought was a boat drink of some sort. It turned out to be nothing more than pineapple juice, maraschino cherries, and antifreeze,” he rattled off with a frown.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “And the waiter who served it to him says it was sitting on a tray by itself with a placard with Bainbridge’s name on it, waiting to be picked up and served,” Morgan huffed. “Word from all the staff is the old man was picky and his food and drinks were served that way a lot at parties, so it wasn’t all that abnormal.” “Pretty ballsy of the killer,” Sam murmured in something close to admiration. “And damn stupid of Reggie to have his food labeled if he was as paranoid as he seemed to be.” “Everyone was so scared of him, no one would touch something with his name on it,” Morgan observed. “Obviously someone did,” Sam pointed out wryly. “Don’t be an asshole,” Morgan grunted at him. “I’m good at it, remember?” Sam said with a smirk. “Shut up. Keep going,” Morgan ordered as he opened his bag of chips. “Scared of him or not, it was the perfect way for them to get the shit into him,” Sam argued. “If what Grace said was true about Reggie not trusting his kids, then why would he make it that easy for them?” “He should have known that. It’s almost like he wanted someone to attempt it,” Morgan agreed thoughtfully. “Are we sure the kid brother isn’t right and the old man didn’t just off himself?” Sam asked dubiously. His interviews with Addison and Brayden had left him disturbed for more than one reason. He was beginning to think the killer was

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux playing a game with them, just like Addison and Brayden’s chess boards. If Addison was the one playing with them, then they needed to up their game, because the kid was good. Morgan was shaking his head. “Bainbridge left specific instructions to have the autopsy performed, no matter how he died,” he said. “And every person we’ve talked to has said that he was hyper-vigilant about his security and his health. This was a man who enjoyed living and wanted to keep doing it for a long time. I’d say he knew someone would off him eventually and didn’t want them to get away with it,” Morgan mumbled. Sam sat with his head bowed, staring at the page in front of him for a long time, thinking about the man who had died and everything people had told them about him. “Do you think it even remotely possible that he found out he was dying somehow, like… cancer or something?” he posed in a soft, hesitant voice. “And as his last act of revenge he decided to set up his own sons for his murder?” he asked as he raised his eyes and looked at his partner over their joined desks. Morgan stared at him unblinking, his sandwich held forgotten in his hand. “No,” he finally answered flatly. “You been watching too much TV,” he added with a point of his finger. Sam smiled wanly and nodded, looking back down at his notes as his frown returned. All the same, he reached for the autopsy report again. He scanned it quickly, looking for any mention of a lingering illness or something that indicated the man might have been sick. There was nothing.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux He’d practically been in perfect health, except for the fact that he was dead. “Find any tumors?” Morgan asked wryly. “No,” Sam muttered. He tossed the report on his desk and looked around for something else, trying to spark an idea. “Where was the tray sitting again?” he asked with a sigh as he reached for the floor plan of the club. Morgan reached for his book of notes and began paging through them. He had interviewed the waiters while Sam had been off dealing with the sons. “The area where the courtesy desk usually is was made into a serving bar that night,” he answered after a moment of searching through his notes. “Drinks were mixed and served from there.” “That’s a pretty open area,” Sam grumbled as he placed an X where the courtesy desk was marked on his floor plan. “There are at least four exits from there.” “Yep,” Morgan agreed unhelpfully. “What’s this space here?” Sam asked as he pointed at what appeared to be an empty spiral. Morgan flipped through a few pages of notes that had accompanied the plans of the club, and he leaned forward in his chair and glowered at them. “That is, uh… not here,” he murmured under his breath. “Hold on.” He grunted as he set the notebook down and reached for another. “How many of those damn things do you have for one case?” Sam asked in exasperation.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “I have a method,” Morgan told him with a sarcastic calming gesture of his hand. “Here it is,” he sighed as he stopped on a page of scribble. Sam waited as Morgan scowled at his notes. “Well?” he asked after losing his patience. Morgan looked up at him as he reached for the telephone on his right. “Phone number. I’ll have to make a call.” “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Sam grunted as he pushed out of his chair and headed off for the doughnut box. When he got back, Morgan was just hanging up the phone. Sam handed him a half-eaten doughnut and smirked at him. “Asshole,” Morgan muttered as he tossed the stale doughnut in the trash. “That space is, apparently, a hidden stairwell,” he told Sam with a frown. “Or at least that’s what Brayden Bainbridge claims. The fucking place is full of passages and shit. That one leads to the office upstairs.” “Bainbridge’s office?” Sam asked incredulously. “That’s what the plans say too,” Morgan answered with a nod. He pulled out a yellowed piece of paper that had been folded up amidst the plans. “Has all the hiddenmabobs listed,” Morgan told him as he waved he paper around. “Why the fuck didn’t we know that when we got the warrant?” Sam growled. “Just received the club plans from Bainbridge a few days ago,” Morgan answered. “When I called, he told me the paper should list it. But then he just told me what it was too.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “He didn’t even try to lie? He just offered up the info?” Sam asked with a scowl. “Yep,” Morgan answered curtly. “I’m really beginning to hate these fucking guys,” Sam groused as he threw his pen down in disgust. “Okay, if they were spiking his drink every night, they would have had to have done it without him seeing them, which means in his office while he wasn’t there. Which means they’d be sneaking into his office, right? With a big jug of antifreeze?” Morgan asked dubiously. “Someone would have either had to have seen them taking the fucking stuff to the guy’s office, or they stashed it some time when the club was empty and it’s still in there somewhere where they kept it hidden,” he surmised. “Probably in that fucking stairwell.” “They’ve had plenty of time to move it by now,” Sam argued. “We tore that office apart just days after it happened,” Morgan countered with a raise of his eyebrow. “If they had it hidden well enough that we missed it, why chance moving it at all? Why not just leave it where it is and never have to deal with it turning up somewhere?” “But what if we missed it because they had moved it?” Sam pointed out. “Or they moved it before the funeral, before there was any suspicion?” Morgan narrowed his eyes and stared at thoughtfully. “I’m right,” he finally decided stubbornly.

Sam

“You’re a jackass,” Sam muttered with a shake of his head. “Circular arguments aside, it’s worth a second gander,

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux anyway,” he added thoughtfully. “We have to check that stairwell, regardless. Get a uniform out to Brayden Bainbridge’s place, now, before he has a chance to go to the club and move it.” “Let’s bring both the brothers in for questioning while we’re at it,” Morgan suggested as he reached for his phone. “See if we can get anything out of either of them. Rattle one of them loose. If the younger one is as smart as everyone says he is, then the older one is our best chance to get to him.” Sam nodded in agreement and frowned thoughtfully, fighting the feeling that they were still missing something. Something big.

“I DIDN’T kill my father!” Addison shouted in agitation. “I want to believe you, Sonny, I really do,” Sam drawled condescendingly. “So tell us where you were that night,” he urged. “I was at the club, working the party like everyone else in the fucking place,” Addison answered heatedly. He leaned forward and pointed at the table as he spoke. “You have at least a hundred people who saw me there!” Sam nodded as if to calm him. Either Addison had taken something since that morning when Sam had seen him, or he just really didn’t like interrogation rooms. He was twitchy and nervous, whereas this morning he’d been

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux practically languid. Sam found himself wondering why someone would do that to themselves. What was possibly worth messing up your head that much? “Tell me about this secret stairwell you boys forgot to tell us about,” Sam prodded, hopping Addison might finally slip up. “It’s on the floor plans,” Addison spat. “It’s also a good way to get a gallon of antifreeze into your daddy’s office without anyone seeing you,” Sam pointed out. “Look at me, man,” Addison huffed in disgust. “Do I look like I even know what the fuck antifreeze is for?” he argued with a gesture to himself. Sam shrugged. “Antifreeze is pretty potent stuff, though. It’s about as dangerous as the shit you were sucking off your boyfriend the other night,” he told Addison with a knowing smirk. Addison sat back in the metal chair and stared at Sam with wide brown eyes, his lips slightly parted in shock and outrage. “I want my lawyer,” he whispered.

“I WANT my lawyer,” Brayden stated calmly. Detective Walker sighed and waved his hand at the mirror behind him.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden sat across the scarred tabletop and watched him impassively. He knew enough about the way this worked to know that the less he said the better off he was. Those were the only words he had said over the past three hours as he’d been hauled into the station and sat waiting to be interviewed. “He’s on his way,” Walker assured him with a slight smile. Brayden blinked slowly at him, entirely uninterested in what he had to say. “You’re not being charged with anything. Yet. We’re just talking, here. Man to man,” Walker assured him with an infuriating smirk. Brayden met his eyes and blinked slowly again. The man had nice eyes, Brayden thought idly. They didn’t seem to fit his personality. He wondered if the guy was really this much of a prick or if he had simply caught Bad Cop duty on this particular case. “Your brother’s a bit of an odd duck, ain’t he?” Walker stated conversationally as Brayden pondered him. “You know, I once heard that these old, wealthy families,” he went on as he leaned forward and placed his chin in his hand, “they’ve all been interbred to the point they’ve all got a little bit of crazy in the blood.” Brayden snorted and shook his head amusement, but he maintained eye contact.

in

wry

“We hear his mama was a spitfire too, little off her rocker,” Walker said confidentially.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Natalie Satterwight was a good woman,” Brayden murmured softly. “How ’bout your mama?” Walker asked with a raised eyebrow. “Was she like Natalie?” “My mother ran away and left me with a father who didn’t want me,” Brayden answered coldly. “Natalie became my mother as well, and she was a good one.” “She was a pretty girl,” Walker observed as he pushed a picture across the table. It was an eight-by-ten black-and-white family portrait. Brayden and Addison sat in front of Addison’s mother as she wrapped both arms around them. All of them were grinning happily at the camera. Brayden and his half-brother were both dressed in little bowties and white knee-high socks. Brayden’s bare knee was scraped from a tumble he had taken on his bike, and Addison’s unruly curls were sticking straight up, despite the hour Brayden remembered his mother spending that morning trying to get the ringlets to behave. Brayden’s throat tightened as he looked down at the picture. He remembered that day like it had been yesterday. It had been a good day. Walker must have read his face like a book, because the next question he asked made Brayden look up at him with a little jerk. “You both loved her very much, didn’t you?” the detective queried softly. Brayden swallowed with difficulty and merely nodded as he looked back down at the photograph. For those few years

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux when Natalie had been around, Brayden could remember being truly happy. She had stood up to their father when he would become overbearing or abrasive, and she had actually enjoyed her time spent with the two small boys who had adored her. Not like Brayden’s own mother, who had been content to lie on a beach and drink while the nanny looked after him. “How old were you when she died?” Walker asked neutrally. “Sonny was four; I was seven,” Brayden answered hoarsely. “You know, it’s funny how you answer for him first,” Walker observed thoughtfully, looking at Brayden as if trying to solve a puzzle. “What else do you do for your kid brother, Brayden?” he asked softly. “Protect him when he gets in trouble?” Brayden simply stared at the man. “Pretty little kid like that?” the detective drawled when it became obvious Brayden wasn’t going to respond. “They’re gonna love him in the clink.” Brayden snorted suddenly, the tension draining out of him again. “The clink,” he echoed with a snicker and a shake of his head as he finally looked away from the man. “Sonny would wear them out,” he drawled in return, unable to stop himself. The detective barked a laugh and nodded. There was a knock on the door and it promptly opened. John Stevenson, Brayden and Addison’s very pissed off

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux lawyer, stepped into the interrogation room looking as if he had dressed on the drive to the station. His expensive silk tie was askew and his normally neatly trimmed hair was mussed. He also had the air of righteous indignation to him. He was a glorious sight to Brayden’s tired eyes. “Please tell me I’m here in the middle of the goddamned night because you have an actual challenge for me,” John growled at Walker as he came over to stand beside Brayden. Brayden glanced up at him and allowed himself to admire his lawyer in all his very early morning, unshaven, pissed off glory, and then he looked back at Walker, trying not to look smug. Walker sat back and looked up at John, pursing his lips. “Your client is very reticent for an innocent man,” he observed neutrally. “He is a grieving son who is tired of being hassled,” John shot back. “Where is my other client?” “He is in the process of being charged with possession of an illegal substance,” Walker answered with a smile, using the same precise, clipped tone John had used with him. “And he is currently in the holding cell with a very large man named Bubba.” “What?” Brayden shouted. “Brayden,” John barked warningly, putting a restraining hand on his shoulder. “It takes a long time to process those charges, though. Maybe you could help your brother out before they get done, Mr. Bainbridge,” Walker suggested.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Look, I don’t know what to tell you,” Brayden insisted over the hissed protests of his lawyer. “Sonny hasn’t done anything wrong, okay? The night of the funeral he was even telling me that he thought Father had killed himself. Why would he say that if he’d had anything to do with it?” Walker sat forward and narrowed his eyes. “What else has your brother said?” he inquired softly. “Brayden, don’t answer that,” John ordered. “No! We didn’t do anything, John,” Brayden protested as he looked up at his lawyer. “Look, they don’t even have motive,” he went on irritably as he looked back at Walker. “I had to beg Addison not to sign over his inheritance when he turned twenty-one. Why would he kill for it now? I had to beg him to stick around.” “So he was unhappy here,” Walker concluded with infuriating calm. “Why would your brother not want to stick around? Did he and your father have issues?” Brayden’s jaw clenched and he glared at the detective as John finally dug his fingers into his shoulder to silence him. “What we hear, your father didn’t like his youngest son taking it up the tailpipe,” Walker informed them drolly. Brayden looked away before the urge to hit the man could manifest into something stronger. “What we hear,” Walker continued, “your father had a habit of threatening your brother’s lovers and running them off. Bet that gets old for a wild kid like Sonny real quick, no matter what he says about it.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden clenched his jaw and remained silent. “What we hear, your brother is pretty serious about this Parrish fella. Maybe serious enough not to want him driven off like all the others? Did your daddy threaten Addison too? Smack him around a little?” “I would never have stood for that,” Brayden answered softly. “Maybe you decided to do something about it, hmm?” Brayden pursed his lips and looked up at John. “Either charge my clients, Detective, or we walk right now,” John demanded quietly.

“WE have a witness who actually corroborates part of Bainbridge’s statement,” Morgan told Sam as soon as he had finished with the man and his lawyer. He handed him a doughnut that had one bite taken out of it and smirked when Sam glared at him. “Tell me,” Sam sighed before biting into the doughnut anyway and heading for the coffee machine. “The night of the funeral, one of the janitorial staff heard the brothers out near the beach talking about whether or not their dad killed himself. The guy says Satterwight seemed certain that he did, and Bainbridge argued that it was natural causes.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Could one or both of the brothers have known that he was listening?” Sam asked as he grabbed a cup and poured himself some sludge with a grimace. “He said he cleans in the same route every night,” Morgan said with a shrug in answer. He leaned against the table and rested his hand on his knee as he looked at Sam. “Said Satterwight sits out there a lot. Sometimes he’d even stop and smoke a joint with him,” he said wryly. “Fuck. So what’s this mean, do you think?” Sam asked softly as he stirred his coffee. “You think the kid knew he’d be overheard and planted witness statements? You think he’s that calculating?” “I wouldn’t put it past him, not now,” Morgan murmured as they watched Bainbridge and his lawyer leave the interrogation room. “Like you said,” Sam’s partner whispered as Bainbridge turned to glare at them over his shoulder, “the kid is smarter than we gave him credit for. And his brother doesn’t even seem to realize it.”

“THEY didn’t charge me,” Addison murmured as they sat in Brayden’s living room. He was slumped low on the couch, looking slightly strung out, and Brayden glared at him hatefully for a long, tense moment. “What?” Addison finally blurted defensively. “They didn’t charge me!” “They were focusing on you and Micah for motive. Are there any prior… lovers that could hurt you?” Brayden

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux ground out with difficulty. “Anyone that I need to be aware of?” Addison’s leg bounced as he rested his booted feet against the coffee table. The knickknacks and books on the table rattled and vibrated threateningly with his nerves. He bit his lip and looked away, slouching further and sighing. “Seth,” he finally answered. “Seth Ramirez was one that Father went after and a lot of people knew about. They’ll get to him soon.” “Right,” Brayden whispered. He remembered when his father had been about to fire Ramirez. Addison had come to him and pleaded his case, begging Brayden not to let it happen. “We’ll take care of it,” Brayden murmured as he stood and walked toward the phone. “What does that mean, take care of it?” Micah asked nervously. “Micah,” Addison murmured as he waved a calming hand at Micah. “He’s just going to call him and talk to him.” Micah rubbed his hands over his face as his knee bounced nervously. “What do I do if they come talk to me again?” he asked Addison as Brayden moved away from them with the phone. “Just answer their questions and tell them the truth,” Addison advised in a soft, tired voice. Micah nodded jerkily. “If it makes you feel better, they won’t be talking to you again,” Addison told him as he reached out and petted Micah’s knee.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “How do you know?” Micah asked worriedly. “They’ve got everything they need from you,” Addison told him with a careless shrug. “And what is that?” Micah asked tentatively. Brayden hung up the phone and set it down with a thunk. He looked over at them and sighed heavily. “Motive,” he answered flatly.

“SETH Ramirez?” Sam questioned as they came up behind the scruffy man they had spoken with on their first visit to the club. The man straightened and plucked his earplug out of his ear. Sam noticed, just as he had the time before, that the man didn’t bother to turn off his MP3 player. “Yeah?” the man answered as his eyes darted between them apprehensively. “Detectives Morgan and Walker. Mind if we ask you a few questions?” Morgan greeted as he flashed his badge. Ramirez shuffled and looked around nervously. “I guess, sure,” he answered in a mumble. “What can you tell us about your relationship with Addison Satterwight?” Sam asked without preamble. Ramirez glanced around again and back at the two detectives with a worried frown. “Why do you want to know?”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Sam took a step closer and reached down to unclip the man’s MP3 player from his belt. “Maybe you’d rather talk about music?” he suggested in a friendly manner as he used his thumb to force the cover off the player. It was completely stripped of all its internal parts, and inside the plastic shell was a tiny bag of fine white powder. “Fuck, man,” Ramirez groaned as he looked away in disgust. “Tell us about Sonny,” Sam demanded. “There’s nothing to tell, dude,” Ramirez answered. “How long were you together?” Morgan asked as he watched Ramirez over the top of his sunglasses. “Not long, okay?” Ramirez answered defensively. “We just hooked up to get high and fuck, all right?” “Did Reggie Bainbridge ever speak with you about his son?” Sam queried as he moved slowly in a circle around the man. “Yeah,” Ramirez nodded heatedly as he turned his head to follow Sam’s movements. “The old fuck threatened me,” he said as he looked back at Morgan and pointed to his own chest. “Told me he’d get me put in jail if I didn’t leave Sonny alone.” “Did you tell Sonny?” Sam asked from behind him. “You bet your ass I did,” Ramirez answered as he turned his head to look back at Sam. “I was going to get fired; I had to do something,” he added defensively.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “How did Sonny react?” Morgan questioned without moving. “He was pissed, man,” Ramirez answered eagerly. “He was like, ‘not again’ and he left to go bitch out his dad.” “Was Sonny in love with you?” Sam asked softly, closer to Ramirez’s ear now. “Shit, no,” Ramirez huffed. “I mean, we weren’t serious and he wasn’t pissed about it because it was me or anything. He was just tired of it, you know? Tired of his dad sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. I heard that it had happened before. Sonny was pissed,” he repeated needlessly. “He saved your job, though?” Morgan asked curiously. “His brother did,” Ramirez nodded. “I owed him after that.” “Did Sonny’s brother ever ask for a return favor?” Sam questioned as he tapped the bag in his palm pointedly and circled back around to stand in front of Ramirez. The man looked down at Sam’s hand and then up at the two of them nervously. “No,” he answered unconvincingly. Sam looked at his partner and smirked at him. “Did you catch that, Ray?” Morgan nodded as he looked at Ramirez. “Sounded like obstruction to me.” “Shit, man!” Ramirez whined in dismay. “What did Sonny’s brother ask you to do in return?” Sam asked again forcefully.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “He… he called me, early this morning,” Ramirez answered regretfully, looking slightly ill now. “Warned me you’d be coming to talk to me.” “What else did he say?” Morgan asked neutrally. Ramirez pursed his lips stubbornly and looked away. “How much does obstruction go for these days?” Sam asked Morgan curiously. “Long enough,” Morgan answered with relish. Ramirez turned his head to glare at them. Finally he sighed and shook his head. “He asked me to forget some of the things Sonny and I had done, okay? He’s worried about Sonny’s rep, man. Worried about the possession charges.” Sam and Morgan shared a look, and Sam nodded as he raised the bag and waved it in front of Ramirez’s face. “And so should you be,” he murmured in a low voice. “Anything you want to add?” he prodded. Ramirez watched the bag apprehensively but remained silent. “If we find out you were withholding anything from us, Seth, life could get very ugly. The boys in county lockup ain’t too worried about whether you like to be high when you get on your knees or not.” Ramirez closed his eyes and sighed shakily, turning his head away again. “When Sonny got high,” he said softly, “he used to talk about how much easier life would be if his dad croaked.” “Did he ever ponder helping his dad along?” Sam questioned.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Ramirez looked down at the sidewalk and worked his jaw back and forth in agitation. “He said that… God,” he breathed in obvious distress as he looked up at the sky and then away from Sam and Morgan. “He said that there were so many poisons that were undetectable, it would be easy to do it. He said cops never suspect a guy of poisoning because it’s a woman’s way of killing and they’d just look at old girlfriends.” Sam glanced again at Morgan, who was looking at him with barely concealed triumph. “Would you testify to that in court?” Morgan questioned. “Shit, no. Hell, no,” Seth spat vehemently. Sam looked down at the bag in his hand and then over to Morgan. “What do you think is in here, about nine, ten grams?” “Ten grams!” Ramirez shouted in outrage. “That’s not even one!” “At least ten,” Morgan nodded in agreement. “Plenty enough for trafficking charges.” Sam gave a low whistle and held up the bag. “That’s fifteen to twenty hard time, easy.” “Fuck, man!” Ramirez shouted in disgust as he ran his hand through his hair. “Fine,” he muttered. “Whatever, okay? Just… Christ.” Sam smirked at the man and handed him back the bag. “Get another hobby, okay?” he suggested before he and Morgan turned and walked away.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux When they were out of earshot, Sam retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialed. “That should be enough for some phone taps,” he told Morgan happily. “We’ll nail this fucker down.”

BRAYDEN sat behind the desk in the hexagonal office, exhausted and worried. He stared at the top of the desk for a long moment, thinking through the problem. It was just after four in the morning. He had awoken in a tangle of sheets and sweat with the phone ringing, and his heart had been hammering so hard he’d been lightheaded when he’d finally found the receiver and answered the call. “I just remembered something, boss,” Daniel Grace’s soft, gruff voice had murmured to him without so much as a greeting. No matter what the subject matter, Daniel always sounded like he was amused. “Do tell,” Brayden had muttered groggily. “That security system on the storage shed?” Daniel had drawled, and Brayden’s stomach had begun to coil as he sat up in bed. “It keeps records of entries.” Brayden had remained motionless for a long time after hanging up the phone, fighting with himself. Did he really want to go through with it? In the end, he had convinced himself that there was really no turning back. He had dressed and driven out to the club, his stomach roiling the entire way.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Now, Brayden sat in his office in the dark, and the nerves in his stomach had yet to uncoil. Downstairs there was a sign on the entrance to the club that regretfully informed its members that it would be closed for the next two weeks in order to provide them with a more elegant atmosphere in the future. The club around him was silent. A computer printout was laid out in front of him. It listed dates and times, and right there near the end was the entry he had been looking for. The night before their father had died someone had entered the shed at three in the morning. Roughly ten minutes later, the printout showed that someone had then entered the club itself; a security code only two people still living possessed. Brayden’s hand was shaking as he reached for the phone. It was time to end this.

“TELL me you didn’t do this,” Brayden Bainbridge’s voice requested softly on the recording. There was a static silence. Then Addison Satterwight’s voice murmured, “I didn’t do it, Brayden. Have they looked at Daniel? He has the code too, and—” “Not to the club itself,” Brayden interrupted him with a growl. “How do you know it wasn’t Father going in and it’s not just some big coincidence? I’m telling you, Brayden, Daniel is—”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Daniel had no reason to kill him, Sonny!” Brayden shouted suddenly. Sam glanced at his captain and grinned. “Here comes the good part,” he murmured. “And I did?” Addison’s voice shot back angrily on the recording. “You told me yourself,” Brayden hissed. “You said he was making your life hell and—” “That doesn’t mean I’d kill him, for Christ’s sake!” Addison shouted in return. “What about your mother?” Brayden asked softly. The static hissed on the recording in the silence that ensued. “What about her?” Addison’s guarded voice murmured. “He drowned her the night she died, Sonny. We both know it.” There was another long, tense silence. Sam cleared his throat and looked up at his captain. He pointed his finger at the computer as the digital recording played on. “I saw you that night. The night of the party,” Brayden finally murmured. “Coming out of the panels from the stairwell. I thought you were just up there getting high.” There was another silence.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “I was just getting high, Brayden,” Addison answered with a resigned sigh. “I always do at those fucking things. I can’t stand them; you know that!” “You killed him, didn’t you?” Brayden whispered in obvious anguish. “What am I supposed to do with that?” he asked his brother desperately. The silence on the recording stretched on, and Captain Gonzalez leaned closer as they listened. “Do what you have to, Brayden,” Addison’s voice finally responded, suddenly cold and hard. “It’s your conscience you have to worry about. Mine’s clear.” The recording ended, and Sam looked up, raising his eyebrows inquiringly at his captain. “Go pick him up,” Gonzalez ordered with obvious pleasure.

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V

BRAYDEN stood on the deserted terrace of his club, looking out at the figure of his brother sitting in the sand. Addison sat beside Micah on the beach, both of them resting their arms on their knees as they watched the sun rise out of the sea. It was an unusually sweet scene, and Brayden found himself second-guessing his actions, and not for the first time. It was too late for second thoughts, though. What was done was done. They had been out there all night, from what Brayden could tell. From the state of their clothing and hair, they had gone dancing somewhere. Somewhere that littered glitter and confetti all over its patrons as they writhed on the dance floor, apparently. Both men sparkled dully in the rising sunlight. They had probably gotten high before, after, or during the festivities if Brayden knew his brother like he thought he did, and then they had come out here to wait for the sun. Brayden was still standing there and watching them when they came to arrest Addison. He followed the police down to the beach, only to be forced to stand aside with Micah and watch sadly as they wrenched Addison to his feet in the sand and turned him around roughly to hold his hands behind his back. Addison didn’t struggle.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “You have the right to remain silent,” Walker growled to him as he cuffed him with a brutal clank of the handcuffs. “Brayden,” Addison murmured as he met Brayden’s eyes pleadingly. “I didn’t do this,” he insisted quietly. Walker held him by his elbow and looked over at Brayden with something like pity. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” he continued as Addison locked eyes with Brayden even as he was jostled in the soft sand. “You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you,” Walker continued as they frogmarched him back toward the terrace. “I didn’t do this, Brayden,” he breathed as they passed by. “Help me,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry, little brother,” Brayden murmured to Addison as they marched him away. “I’m truly sorry,” he said as the waves crashed behind him.

MICAH stood at the checkpoint and allowed the guards to search him. He nodded as the guard reminded him pointedly that their conversations were monitored by video and audio, and then he was ushered through. Addison sat at the first station. He wore an orange jumpsuit with Miami-Dade Corrections written in block letters all over it. His knee was bouncing, and he couldn’t seem to keep his handcuffed hands still as they rested on

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux the table in front of him. He played with the short chain on his cuffs as he waited. Micah slid into the chair opposite him and picked up the phone, looking through the Plexiglas divider worriedly. Addison didn’t look well. Micah knew he was going into withdrawal after quitting cold turkey and several weeks in jail, and he knew it had to be horrible going through something like that in an environment where no one gave a shit. Addison swallowed nervously and picked up his own phone, leaning forward as he held it to his ear. “That color doesn’t really suit you,” Micah observed softy as he knocked his knuckles gently against the glass and then rested the tips of his fingers against it. “And I was so sure I’d be winning beauty pageants,” Addison murmured sorrowfully. The ghost of a smile he had managed fell once more, and he looked at Micah sadly as he placed the tips of his own fingers against the divider, lining them up with Micah’s. He did it discreetly, as if he were afraid to display anything more in front of the other inmates. Or perhaps it was the guards he feared, Micah thought grimly. He turned and looked up at the video camera near the ceiling and then back at Addison again. “Talk to me,” Addison murmured. “I haven’t heard from Brayden in days. What’s going on?” “Your brother’s gone,” Micah told him softly, deciding to forego the small talk.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Addison’s knee stopped bouncing, and he stared at Micah, unmoving and unblinking. “What?” he finally breathed. Micah shook his head and pressed his lips together. “He’s gone. Him and your daddy’s yacht,” he muttered. Addison wasn’t looking at him any longer. His eyes had unfocused, and his knee was bouncing once again. Finally, he looked up at the camera that was even then relaying their conversation to an observation point, and he met Micah’s eyes again. “He did it,” he murmured. “He really did it.” “Yeah,” Micah growled softly as he watched Addison’s eyes darken. “Can I call that fucking detective now?”

“IS this Detective Sam Walker?” a soft, oddly gruff voice asked when Sam answered his phone. “It is,” Sam answered as he tried to finish up the paperwork on the Bainbridge case. Addison Satterwight was safely in jail and awaiting trial for murder in the first degree, obstruction of justice, possession, and any number of other lesser charges. All in all, it should have been a satisfying end to the case. Sam just couldn’t figure out why it still nagged at him. “Who is this?” Sam demanded. “That’s not really important, Detective,” the strangely soft-spoken voice drawled in amusement. “What is important

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux is that you’ve overlooked one little detail in your most recent investigation.” Sam froze and looked up, scanning for Morgan amidst the ordered chaos of the station. His call waiting beeped at him discreetly. He ignored it. “Which investigation would that be?” “You’ve captured a pawn, Detective,” the soft voice told him tauntingly. “The game never ends with a pawn.” Sam froze and stared at his partner across the room, the phone held to his ear as his grip tightened on it. The call waiting beeped once more. “Detective Walker?” the soft voice on the phone queried in amusement. “Are you still with me?” “You think Addison Satterwight was a pawn?” Sam inquired carefully as he quietly tried to engage a recorder on the call. “Why would you say that?” “Check up on your loose ends, Detective,” the voice murmured. “Brayden Bainbridge has cleared out his family’s accounts and left the country on his father’s private yacht.” Sam cursed as the line went dead. He waved frantically at Morgan as he tossed the cell phone down and stood.

“DONE?” Brayden inquired as Daniel flipped the satellite phone closed.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Done,” Daniel grinned. He held up the phone and then slung it like a Frisbee into the ocean. Brayden watched it sail through the air and splash down with a slight smile. The yacht was not a particularly large one, but it was big enough that it required at least two men to maneuver it. That had been Daniel’s only demand when Brayden had approached him with the plan. Daniel hadn’t wanted to be expendable, when all was said and done. That had been before Brayden and Daniel had truly known each other, though, before the trust had formed. Brayden wasn’t worried about Daniel killing him as they sailed off to somewhere with no extradition laws and tanned beauties who would bring them drinks on the beach all day long, nor was Daniel worried about Brayden doing so any longer. He was one of the first true friends Brayden had ever had. “Poor Sonny,” Brayden murmured as he reached into the bucket beside him and withdrew a bottle of champagne. He watched the bubbles thoughtfully, feeling a twinge of regret as he thought about his little brother sitting in prison and going through what had to be some hellacious withdrawal. Then he smiled and looked up at the horizon. He poured himself a glass, then another one for Daniel. “To Addison,” Daniel proposed with a grin as he held up his glass. “The perfect pawn,” he drawled in amusement. The crystal clinked with a lonely echo over the open water.

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“WE know your brother did this,” Sam urged. “We know that, Addison, but we have to have your help.” “What do you need?” Addison asked him hollowly as Sam sat opposite him in the small room. “We need the murder weapon,” Sam answered softly. Addison’s dark eyes rose to meet Sam’s. “The antifreeze? It has to be in that club, kid,” Sam said to him urgently. “Your brother knew every nook and cranny. He stashed it somewhere thinking he could go back and dispose of it. He didn’t expect the autopsy to be performed—” “Why was the autopsy performed?” Addison asked dazedly, as if he didn’t quite understand what Sam was telling him; that his brother was a murderer and had set him up to spend life in prison. “Your father left specific instructions,” Sam sighed. “Is that even legal?” Addison asked with a frown. Sam actually smiled at him sympathetically. “When you have the kind of money your father did, anything is legal.” Addison stared at him and swallowed with difficulty. “You sound like Brayden,” he whispered. Sam was silent as he watched the pain enter the man’s expressive eyes. “Why did he do it?” Addison finally asked, his agonized voice barely audible.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “I don’t know, kid,” Sam answered regretfully. “You remember what I told you about the will we found? The handwritten copy of your father’s will? He was going to cut you both out, and we think Brayden found out, somehow.” He waited a moment and then leaned closer. “Did your father kill your mother, Addison?” Sam asked softly. Addison shook his head as he reached up to wipe at his eyes, his hands still cuffed together. He pressed his lips tightly together and looked at Sam pitifully. “Brayden believed he had,” he answered hoarsely. They sat there in silence for a long moment, Sam waiting breathlessly for Addison to continue. “Brayden knew where all the hidey-holes at the club were,” Addison finally said shakily. “But so do I,” he added determinedly. “Take me out there,” he requested bitterly. “We’ll find your smoking jug of antifreeze.”

SAM and the two uniformed officers followed Addison up the hidden stairs and into the dark hexagonal office. He looked around the empty room with narrowed eyes as Addison shuffled off to the side with his shoulders slumped and his head bowed. Sam stepped over to him and took his hands, reaching into his own pocket to retrieve the key to the handcuffs. He unlocked them wordlessly as Addison stared at him with liquid brown eyes.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Show me,” Sam ordered quietly. “No tricks,” he added sternly. Addison didn’t seem to be in the mood to argue, though, and he nodded and stepped around Sam slowly. He went to the desk obediently as he rubbed his wrists slowly. Sam felt a stab of guilt over the way he had treated the kid throughout the investigation, but he tried to push it aside. The only thing he could do now was catch the real killer for him. He watched in silence as Addison revealed hidden compartment after hidden compartment in the desk, demonstrating to Sam how to get to them and what was in them. Most were innocuous papers or trinkets. There was a flask of what smelled like bourbon. There was a box with the faintest hint of perfume that Addison refused to open, and when Sam investigated he found that it contained letters addressed to Reggie Bainbridge from a woman. Addison’s mother, Sam realized with a pang of sympathy. “Are there any others?” Sam asked as soon as Addison appeared to be done with the desks. “There are a few in the bookcases,” Addison answered softly. Sam gestured to the walls and Addison moved to the nearest bookshelf. He reached up to the highest shelf, standing on his toes and stretching, and tipped a book toward him. There was a click and the row of books near his waist slowly swung open. Addison backed away and Sam took out his pen and used it to open the shelf the rest of the way, shining his penlight into the dark compartment.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “Empty,” he announced with a disappointment he couldn’t quite conceal. Addison nodded and moved to the next bookcase over. He kicked at the baseboard and the wooden panel fell to the floor with a clatter. He then slid his booted toe under the bottom shelf and there was another click as the entire lower front of the bookcase creaked open. Addison used his foot to nudge it open further and then stepped away again. Sam knelt and raised his penlight, shining it into the compartment. Inside sat a blue jug of PEAK brand antifreeze. “Fuck,” Sam breathed as he lowered his head. Addison was silent, staring at the compartment with a distant, dazed expression. “That fucker,” Sam spat angrily, finally letting it boil over. “Murdered his own father and framed his only brother for it,” he surmised in disgust. “No,” Addison whispered. It was the first word he had spoken that had been unprovoked by a direct question since they had signed him out of the detention center. “He didn’t frame me,” he murmured with a shake of his head. His haunted black eyes moved to look down at Sam. “He just used me as a distraction.” Sam stood and looked at him, unable to hide the sympathy in his expression. “He knew we’d look at you,” he said as realization dawned. “You were an easy target because of the drugs and the lovers. All he had to do was push us just a little in that direction, and he was free to get away,” he

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux said in disgust. “Then he had his buddy Daniel call to get you out.” “He knew as soon as he left I’d be cleared,” Addison went on softly as he looked back down at the antifreeze. “I was just a pawn he moved around to protect himself.” Sam watched the kid worriedly, wondering what it would feel like to have your only brother, your only family, betray you so horribly. He couldn’t imagine. Addison raised his head and looked around the room sadly. “What happens now?” he asked in a hoarse voice. “The murder charges will be dropped,” Sam answered after a moment of looking Addison over. “Your brother will be charged, and a warrant will be issued for his arrest. But….” “They won’t find him,” Addison whispered with certainty when Sam didn’t finish. Sam merely nodded curtly. “And the possession?” Addison questioned in a low voice as he looked over at Sam. Sam inhaled deeply and then pursed his lips. “I’m betting if you give the DA the name of your dealer, you can walk,” he finally guessed. “But I can’t promise anything.” Addison met his eyes for another silence that stretched on and then turned his gaze back to the antifreeze in the compartment. He swallowed hard and looked down at his hands. After a long moment, he shook his head and held his hands up to Sam with his wrists pressed together. Sam looked at him in confusion

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “I’m not like my brother,” Addison told him softly. “I’ll do my own time.”

WITH the murder charge dropped, Addison easily made his bail. Six weeks after entering the Metro West Detention Center the day he was arrested for his father’s murder, Addison was released back into society. Sam had never known the feeling of being wrong before, but Addison’s wrongful arrest still bothered him. First, the kid had lost his father, a painful thing even if he hadn’t really liked him, then he had been wrongly accused of murder and hassled by Sam and his partner over everything from his dead mother to his sexual preferences, then he had lost his brother to something that was worse than death, in Sam’s opinion, and finally he had been tossed in jail to detox on his own. The entire case had felt wrong to Sam from Day One. He wanted to put at least one aspect of it right again. “A kid that pretty don’t need to be in prison,” Sam muttered as he leaned against the hood of a beat up old ’71 Camaro. “He’s tougher than he looks,” Micah confidently as he sat on the hood beside Sam.

responded

Micah Parrish, Sam had been shocked to find out, had visited Addison at least once a week since the day of his arrest, often several times a week. He had stuck by the other

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux man despite the murder charges and despite the mess his life had become, and he had proved himself to be more than merely a swamp rat looking for a meal ticket. Even after discovering that Brayden had cleaned out the family bank accounts and left Addison with nothing but the club, Micah had not abandoned him. Sam had eventually forced himself to approach Micah one day when he had been leaving the detention center. He had apologized, even though Morgan had warned him not to, both for the things he had said to Micah and for Addison’s situation. Now they sat together, waiting for Addison’s release. There was a clank in the distance and a long, low growling sound as the outer gates of the prison began to roll open. Micah slid off the hood of the car, and Sam straightened as Addison appeared around the corner, walking with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder. Under his other arm he held a large manila envelope that probably contained whatever had been on him when he’d been arrested. As far as Sam knew, the thing should be empty, except for maybe some glitter and confetti. Addison walked with his head down, squinting his eyes in the early morning light. The gates began to rumble closed as soon as he passed by them. Sam could practically feel Micah vibrating beside him. When he finally looked up at them, Addison actually smiled as he drew closer. He looked relaxed and, possibly more importantly, clean and sober. Sam knew that inmates could smuggle in drugs fairly easily, but it looked as if Addison had refrained. He had taken advantage of the

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux situation to clean himself up, and it appeared to have done him a lot of good. He looked like a different man. Sam hung back as Addison drew closer, and he watched with a fondness he had not expected as Micah took a few steps to meet the man. They stood roughly a foot apart, silent and looking at each other expressionlessly. Suddenly, Addison broke into a wide grin, and Micah lunged at him and picked him up off the ground, laughing as Addison returned the hug. Sam laughed softly and turned his head, not wanting to intrude any more than he had on their reunion. When they had finally gotten their fill of each other, Micah set Addison down again and took his jacket from him as Addison turned to Sam. He stepped up to Sam and smiled at him, offering his hand in greeting. Sam took it and grinned lopsidedly. “Thank you, Detective Walker,” Addison murmured to him. “You’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know.” “Welcome to the straight and narrow,” Sam responded with a smirk. Addison smiled. He opened up the envelope and reached in, extracting a small object and holding it out to Sam. Sam stared at the glass chess piece in bewilderment. It was a clear knight from Addison’s set. “We should get together sometime,” Addison drawled cheekily. “Play some chess.” Sam laughed and shook his head, refusing to take the piece. “Tried that once already, remember? You’d own me.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Addison merely smiled crookedly at him. Behind him, Micah was trying very hard not to smile. Addison slipped the piece into his pocket and shrugged. “If you change your mind,” he offered. “You’ll be my first call,” Sam assured him. Several days after buying Addison and Micah lunch, Sam sat at his desk amidst a pile of files and old Styrofoam coffee cups. A box had come for him, addressed with the country club’s stationery. Inside Sam found a beautiful chess board, one similar to the one he’d seen at Brayden Bainbridge’s home, and a set of pieces that appeared to be hand-carved marble. The note informed Sam that he was now a lifetime member of the Country Club of Coral Gables in gratitude for all he’d done. Addison Satterwight’s elegant signature accompanied the note, as did a postscript informing Sam that he was very good at the game, but he still needed to practice. Sam was chuckling and shaking his head as he read the note. “Sir?” a young lab technician greeted tentatively as he came up to Sam’s desk with a report in his hands. “What have you got for me?” Sam asked as he set the note down and pushed aside the paperwork he was diligently avoiding. “Results are back on the Bainbridge case,” the tech answered as he handed the report to Sam. Sam groaned in irritation. The sooner he could park this case in the file cabinet the better.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “The will?” he questioned as he took the report and looked at it with a sigh. “And the antifreeze,” the technician nodded. Sam glanced up at him as he thumbed through the pages. “Let me guess,” he muttered wryly. “You found Brayden Bainbridge’s prints on both, right?” “Yes, sir,” the tech nodded. “But that’s all,” he added before Sam could dismiss him. Sam looked back up at him curiously. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I mean, that’s all, sir.” The tech shrugged. “Reggie Bainbridge’s prints weren’t on his own will. And the antifreeze bottle? It had the son’s prints on it, but otherwise it had been wiped clean.” “What?” Sam whispered as a sinking feeling began to form in his gut. “It had been wiped clean. Like he wiped it and then held it in his bare hand again to leave his prints,” the tech explained in obvious puzzlement. Sam stared at the man for a long moment and then looked back down at the report in stunned silence. “Like he was trying to set himself up or something,” the tech mumbled. He shrugged in confusion before giving Sam one last odd look and walking away. Sam licked at suddenly dry lips and turned to his partner, who was staring at him with the same stunned expression he knew he himself wore.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “How do you write on a piece of paper without getting your prints on it?” Morgan asked him in a voice filled with dread. “You don’t,” Sam murmured in a stunned voice. He looked back down at the report in his hand and then at the chess pieces he had been examining. A white pawn sat on top of the note, Addison’s signature peeking out from under it. He still needed practice, Addison had written. “He was a pawn,” Sam whispered to Morgan, who was already talking heatedly on the phone. “He wanted to be a pawn,” Sam continued dazedly. “It was his game, and he chose to be a pawn.” Morgan slammed the phone down and looked up at Sam. “Satterwight and his buddy, Parrish?” he said in disgust. “They’ve disappeared.”

ADDISON sat with his feet in the water, staring at the endless tropical horizon. Micah sat beside him, twitching his toes and making the impossibly blue water ripple beneath them. Addison looked down at the ripples on the surface and smirked. “I have an idea.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux The sound of an engine in the distance drew his attention away from the water and back up to the horizon. “You really think we can pull this off?” The ship grew larger as it got closer, cutting through the water and producing a massive wake in its stead. “I’ll do it.” “No. No, I’m better for it. You’ve been trying to get me into rehab for years anyway, right?” The waves lapped at the wooden legs of the dock, and Addison swung his feet in the water as his tanned shins were splashed. “Last chance to back out, little brother.” “Don’t priss out on me now, Brayden. Here, give me the fucking bottle. I’ll do it.” The yacht edged closer, and Addison looked back down at the ripples. “You are one hell of an actor, kid. I almost believed you were upset today.” “Well. I did just consign myself to a month or so in prison, you know. Damn, I need a drink.” Addison glanced at Micah and smiled crookedly. “You want to bring Micah into this? At this stage? The three of us killed a man, for Christ’s sake!” “I trust him.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Soon the yacht was coasting up to the dock, and Addison and Micah hurried to secure it. “What are you trying to tell me, Sonny?” As soon as they had tied the yacht up, Addison stepped back and shielded his eyes from the setting sun. He looked up at the shadowed outline of the man standing on the side of the boat and looking down at him. “And you didn’t think it would work,” he drawled to his brother with a cheeky smirk.

TWO weeks after the murder: “What are you trying to tell me, Sonny?” Micah asked softly as they sat in his car. They had left a very unhappy Brayden back on the beach with his envelope of illicit photographs. Addison could tell that Micah wasn’t certain if Addison was high and rambling or if he was serious. It was almost cute, the wary way in which Micah was looking at him. Micah had taken care of him for too long, Addison knew that. It was time he got something in return besides sex and drugs. That wasn’t what Micah was really about anyway. Addison leaned toward him and looked at him earnestly. The old leather of the Camaro groaned with the movement. “Do you love me, Micah?” he asked softly.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Micah looked at him in alarm and swallowed heavily. “Yes,” he finally answered breathlessly. It was the first time either of them had ever mentioned the word, much less admitted the feeling. “Would you come with me if I left?” Addison asked, holding his breath unconsciously. “Yes,” Micah answered with a little nod, his green eyes unable to leave Addison’s. He didn’t even ask where they would go or how they would do it. Addison told himself yet again that he was right about Micah; that he’d stick with him through anything. Addison swallowed nervously all the same, and he looked at him with a sort of desperate hope. Micah had been the one part of this that he hadn’t planned for. “I love you, okay? Remember that,” he pleaded as he reached for Micah’s hand and gripped it urgently. Micah nodded and looked at him worriedly, seemingly stunned by Addison’s own admission of love. “It was me,” Addison said almost inaudibly. Micah shook his head slightly in confusion. “What was you, Sonny? What are you talking about?” “I killed him,” Addison whispered to clarify. Micah blinked and pulled back slightly, though he didn’t wrench his hand away like Addison had almost expected him to. He stared at Addison in stunned silence, seemingly trying to formulate a response. “On purpose?” he asked finally.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Addison couldn’t help but laugh. He lowered his head and laughed until he was afraid he would begin crying again. Micah’s other hand on the back of his head made him look back up, and he gasped desperately for air, trying to stop the laughter as he met Micah’s eyes. Micah wasn’t smiling. “Tell me everything,” he requested grimly.

TEN days after the murder: “You want to bring Micah Parrish into this?” Daniel asked incredulously. “At this stage? The three of us killed a man, for Christ’s sake!” “I trust him,” Addison murmured. “You’re high all the fucking time. How do you even know what trust feels like anymore?” “And I have to stay that way if this is going to work!” Addison shot back defensively as Brayden finally stood up and stepped between them. “What have you two sacrificed for this, huh? You can’t be seen in public together? Well, big fucking deal. You barely like each other!” Addison shouted. “Keep your voice down,” Brayden snapped. Addison glared balefully at him, and Daniel turned away in disgust. “Think, Sonny,” Brayden urged quietly. “It took you years to plan this,” he said emphatically. “You went through every

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux possible scenario, every possible outcome. Did you plan for him?” he asked pointedly. “No,” Addison answered stubbornly. “What’s your damn chess tactic say to do about that?” Daniel asked grudgingly as he sat on the arm of one of the leather club chairs. Addison shook his head. “Micah’s not a piece in this game,” he said softly. “I love him, Brayden,” he said as he looked back at his brother pleadingly. Brayden stared at him in open shock. Even Daniel appeared surprised by the admission. “I think I need him,” Addison continued. “I’m right about him, I know I am. Please,” he begged. “You bring Micah in,” Brayden murmured as he looked at his brother in concern. Daniel stood up quickly in outrage, but Brayden held his hand up to silence him before he could voice his opinion. “But you keep us out of it,” Brayden went on without looking away from Addison. “If he takes it wrong, you’re the only name he knows to turn in. We won’t go down with you, kiddo. Agreed?” he asked grimly. “Agreed,” Addison responded eagerly. “When?” Brayden inquired softly. “As soon as I can get him somewhere I’m sure we’re not being bugged,” Addison responded readily. “I’ll tell him then.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux I’m certain about him, Brayden, just like everything else. I’ll bet my life on him.” “God help you if you’re wrong,” Brayden murmured.

FIVE days after the murder: “You are one hell of an actor, kid,” Daniel laughed with a shake of his head. “I almost believed you were upset today.” “Well. I did just consign myself to a month or so in prison, you know,” Addison huffed haughtily. “Damn, I need a drink,” he muttered as he thought about the coming weeks. He went over to his father’s wet bar and began rummaging through the liquors. He picked up a bottle of bourbon and looked at it askance. “No,” he crooned to it and then tossed it over his shoulder. The glass shattered, and the bourbon laced with antifreeze began to ooze across the Oriental rug. Behind him, Brayden groaned, and Daniel snickered quietly. “We have to be picture perfect from here on out,” Addison told them seriously as he poured himself some scotch and turned back around to look at them, oblivious to their reaction to his antics with the tainted bourbon. “If we miss a step, we’re done for.” “You sure they’ll tap the phones at the club too?” Brayden asked him dubiously as he sat on the arm of the

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux couch beside Daniel. “If they miss my call to you then they’ll never move.” “I’m positive,” Addison assured him with a nod. “They’ll hear every word from the time Daniel makes his call to you. Just make sure you stick to the script. Practice in the shower or something.”

THE night of the murder: “Last chance to back out, little brother,” Brayden breathed as they stood together in the cramped recesses of the winding stairwell. “Don’t priss out on me now, Brayden,” Addison murmured in exhaustion. “Here, give me the fucking bottle. I’ll do it,” he grumbled as he took the bottle of antifreeze and handed Brayden the tray. “Hold it still,” he hissed as Brayden’s hands shook and the glass of pineapple juice rattled on the tray. Brayden grabbed the glass and breathed out slowly to calm himself. Addison poured, looking up into Brayden’s eyes in the darkness as the bottle made an obscene glug-glug sound. “You’re okay,” Addison murmured to his older brother. Brayden nodded and licked his lips as Addison replaced the cap on the bottle of antifreeze and then set it down. “Don’t forget to place the will,” Addison whispered as he cracked open the hidden door and peered out.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “I know,” Brayden assured him as he handed him the tray carefully, and then he removed the gloves he wore and bent to wipe the antifreeze bottle free of anyone’s prints. He then shoved the gloves in his back pocket and gripped the bottle with both hands as he stood. He and Addison locked eyes for a long moment. They were about to kill their father. Neither man said a word as Addison dropped a handful of maraschino cherries into the glass, and they merely nodded at each other and parted. Brayden took the stairs two at a time as he headed to his father’s office on his mission to hide the antifreeze jug and plant the fake will, and Addison slipped through the secret door into the lobby of the club. Addison was accustomed to slipping through crowds without being noticed or touched, and only one person saw him slide the silver tray with its name plate onto the bar. Addison removed his gloves discreetly as he walked away. He turned and caught Daniel’s eye. The wiry blond nodded in return and leaned against the wall, taking up his station to follow the poisoned drink as it made its way to Reginald Bainbridge. He was to intervene if the drink found its way into some innocent bystander’s hands. Five minutes later, Addison’s black, dilated eyes watched from a dark corner as his father took the drink from the waiter without so much as a glance at the servant and laughed boisterously at an off-color joke and emptied the glass in one gulp.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Hours later, Addison and Brayden stood in the antechamber of their father’s office. Their father had stumbled up to his office and called them, panicking and desperate for help. “Boys,” Reggie gasped as he held his stomach and looked up at them pleadingly. “The ambulance is on the way,” Addison murmured to him as the man lay on the sofa, writhing in pain. “Try not to panic,” Brayden added grimly. The temptation to tell him what they had done to him was strong. But they had agreed not to take the chance that he might live to tell someone, and they stuck to their plan and remained silent. Reginald Bainbridge had known his sons better than they had known him, though. “I didn’t kill her,” he gasped as he curled on his side, a mountain of a man brought to his knees. “I loved her.” “We know, Father,” Addison assured him soothingly as he knelt beside the couch and watched him die. “She killed herself,” the old man hissed pleadingly as his eyes began to cloud over. “We know, Father,” Brayden murmured as he stood by, watching emotionlessly. “She killed herself,” Reggie repeated pitifully. “And so did you,” Addison cooed to their father as he died.

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FIVE months before the murder: “I’ll do it,” Brayden stated grimly. “No. No, I’m better for it,” Addison argued. Brayden looked at him warningly, and Addison shrugged and smiled at his brother. “You’ve been trying to get me into rehab for years anyway, right?” “He’s right,” Daniel agreed softly. The fishing boat bobbed up and down gently on the open ocean as they discussed their ever-evolving plan. “If we need him in jail long enough to get away, then he’s going to have to be pretty damn suspicious,” he continued when Brayden glanced at him in outrage. “And face it, kiddo, you don’t exactly have the patricidal air about you,” he drawled as he gave Brayden a slow onceover. “And I do?” Addison asked in a hurt voice. Daniel smirked at him and made a gesture that said the answer to that should be obvious. “Whatever, man. We have the bourbon spiked,” Addison went on with a roll of his eyes. “I spouted off to Seth about wanting to kill the old man every time I—” “We don’t want to know what you were doing to him,” Brayden interrupted hurriedly.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “So that seed’s planted if we need it,” Addison continued in a louder voice as he glared at Brayden. “If things don’t go exactly to plan and they’re playing it careful—” “Or they don’t arrest you when they have you,” Daniel provided. “Right,” Addison said with a nod. “We’ll just call Seth, make him nervous about the cops,” he finished. “He’ll give me up in a second.” “Are there any steps we’ve missed?” Brayden asked worriedly. “We’re covered.” Addison grinned. Daniel nodded in agreement. “The only thing we have to worry about now is the possibility of a cop who doesn’t play by the rules. That’s the only wild card.” “That’s a big damn wild card,” Brayden muttered in a troubled voice. “I have that covered too,” Addison assured them. He picked up a shrimp from the plate and made to pop it in his mouth. “Don’t eat that; that’s my bait,” Daniel huffed as he snatched the shrimp out of Addison’s hand and replaced it with a can of peanuts. “Gross,” Addison muttered as he looked at his slimy fingers. “Addison,” Brayden prodded impatiently, “how do you have it covered?”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Addison looked up at him and wiped his fingers off on his linen pants. “If the cop goes off the rails, we just teach him about chess,” he told them in a pleased voice. “What?” Daniel asked in the tired tone he’d come to use every time he seemed unable to follow Addison’s plotting. “Chess,” Addison repeated. “Every time he talks to one of us, we make references to the game. If he’s a smart cop, he’ll think that’s the way to catch us; play the same game we’re playing.” “You want us to tell him how to catch us?” Daniel asked in confusion. “Exactly,” Addison agreed with a wide grin. Then he popped a peanut into his mouth and downed the rest of his beer.

NINE months before the murder: “You really think we can pull this off?” Brayden asked dubiously. He was sitting on the edge of his chair as Addison lounged languidly on his couch. “I know we can.” Addison grinned lazily. “Why go slowly for two months, then amp it up?” Daniel asked curiously. “Why not just off him right away?” “It has to look like we lost patience,” Addison answered. “Like we got sloppy.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “You say this will be like a game of chess. But chess is about adapting to the moves of your opponent. What part of your plan calls for adapting?” Brayden asked in the same doubtful tone of voice. “Chess is about having a strategy,” Addison corrected in a slow drawl. “You adapt that strategy as you need to. But what if you already know the moves your opponent will make?” he posed with a sideways glance at Brayden. “I’m not sure how I feel about him being the brains of this operation,” Daniel muttered as he reached for a black rook and moved it slowly. Addison sneered at him and then leaned forward and met the man’s blue eyes as he reached for the white knight. He didn’t even look down at the board as he moved his piece. “Check,” he drawled with a smirk. Daniel’s unreadable eyes examined the board before looking up to meet Addison’s. “Daniel,” Brayden muttered from where he sat watching, finally relaxing back into his seat. “You’ll never beat him,” he sighed fondly.

TWO years before the murder: “I have an idea,” Addison said to Brayden in a low voice. “Oh, yeah?” Brayden responded sarcastically as he poured himself a drink. Addison watched him with dark eyes.

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux Brayden threw back the bourbon and then started in on another as Addison sat on Brayden’s couch, watching. “Last time you had an idea you left me here, all alone to deal with this shit myself. Does this have anything to do with those psychotic buddies of yours that showed up last week looking for lost pirate treasure?” Addison shook his head and hummed a negative answer. His eyes drifted to the glass in Brayden’s hand. His brother looked larger as he stood silhouetted in the light from the French doors, his tie askew and his shoulders tense. It took Addison back to his childhood in the most unpleasant of ways. Their father had always been stressed and mean. Addison would do anything to keep Brayden from going down that road. “What if I could save you from becoming him?” Addison whispered to his brother. Brayden turned to look at him, his dark eyes hollow and haunted in the low light of the lamps they had turned on instead of the overhead lights. “I’m listening,” Brayden told him in a hoarse voice. Several hours later, Brayden was nearly sober and sitting across from Addison, frowning in concentration as Addison outlined his plan. “You ever played a game of chess after the king has been captured?” Addison asked him softly, trying to find a way to explain that Brayden could relate to. “Game’s over,” Brayden responded with a shake of his head. “King’s been captured, the game’s over.”

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My Brother’s Keeper | Abigail Roux “No,” Addison whispered. “No, the game has just begun,” he said with a conspiratorial smile. He reached out to the chess board that sat between them and took the black king between his middle finger and forefinger and laid the piece on its side. “The king is dead, Brayden. But the pawns keep moving,” he said as he pushed a white pawn toward his brother. “The king is dead,” Brayden echoed as his eyes fell on the black king and stared at it. “Long live the king,” Addison murmured grimly.

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ABIGAIL ROUX was born and raised in North Carolina. A past volleyball star who specializes in pratfalls and sarcasm, she currently spends her time coaching middle school volleyball and softball and dreading the day when her little girl hits that age. Abigail has a loving husband, a baby girl they call Boomer, four cats, three dogs, a crazyass extended family, and a cast of thousands in her head. Visit her blog at http://abigail-roux.livejournal.com/.

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My Brother’s Keeper ©Copyright Abigail Roux, 2009 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Design by Mara McKennen This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America July 2009 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-045-1