I didn’t even have the wits to step away, though my voice did sound a bit high. “Three’s good.”

  He nodded once. “I’ll see you then.”

  And just to add to the surreal sense of the moment, Nick bent and brushed his lips across mine. His fingers fanned across my back and urged me closer. It wasn’t as good as that last kiss—mostly because it didn’t last long enough—but it still made me dizzy.

  Not so dizzy that I didn’t knock wood on the way out, though.

  Chapter Eight

  Nick directed me to a street in the North End and I had to squeeze the Beast into the only spot we could find—it was not a lot of fun. He went straight to a townhouse that had been divided into apartments and leaned on the bell for #2.

  I wondered when he had last talked to Sean as the bell echoed distantly.

  Nick rang again when there was no response, then someone snarled over the intercom. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t need any.”

  “Sean, it’s Nick.”

  There was a long pause, so long that I thought he’d leave us standing there until hell froze over. Then the security lock on the door clicked. Nick pulled it open, ushering me in and we climbed the stairs.

  Sean was standing at the top of the flight, hands on his hips, silhouetted against the light from a fan window. It occurred to me that a flair for drama might be a dominant gene.

  Even in the bad light, it was evident that the years had not been good to Sean Sullivan. That washboard stomach was gone—or at least buried beneath an avalanche of gut. He clearly thought he was still a looker—his jeans were tight, exhibiting more than should be legal to display, and his sweatshirt had the logo of a university football team. Even though he was about my age, he looked fifty if he was a day.

  Maybe there is some justice in this world.

  He grinned and raised his hand for a high five, a parody of the sleek jock he used to be. “Hey, big brother, long time no see.”

  “I wonder why.” Nick’s tone seemed very dry in contrast.

  Sean hesitated only a minute before shoving out his hand, and grinning too broadly. “Aw, come on!” he said boisterously as Nick took his hand with evident reluctance, then hugged Nick.

  Nick is not a group hug kind of guy. He never has been. He said nothing but didn’t really get into the spirit of the embrace. He certainly didn’t participate.

  Sean backed off and openly studied Nick. “If you’ve come for money, I don’t have any.”

  “That’s not why I came.”

  Sean elbowed him, his familiarity at odds with Nick’s reticence. And distinctly at odds with the history between them. “Hey, if you’re giving out money, I’ll be glad to help.”

  Nick shook his head.

  Sean turned on me, clearly hoping for easier prey. To my surprise, he checked me out but never spoke directly to me, turning instead back to Nick. “Nice piece.”

  I bristled but there could have been heavy gauge steel up Nick’s spine. “Maybe you remember Philippa Coxwell.”

  “No shit! You’re Philippa Coxwell?” Sean ogled, a past association, however bad, apparently enough to declare open season. “Jesus Jenny, you really have changed.” He winked. “Anytime you want to upgrade, Philippa baby, you just give me call.”

  Nick’s hand landed on the back of my waist but I can fight my own battles. Besides I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Why? Do you have friends with manners?”

  He colored, then gave Nick a belligerent glance. “So what do you want? You’re a regular little ray of sunshine today, but then I shouldn’t have expected much different.”

  “To talk. Preferably not in the hall.”

  Sean thought about it for a minute, then backed away, gesturing to his open apartment door. “You want a beer? Josie! Rock it on down to the corner and pick up a six-pack. We’ve got company.”

  A small dark-haired woman scampered out of the bedroom. She was petite and pretty, her eyes too wide as she looked at him. “I’ve got to go to work.”

  She was wearing a plain white blouse and dark pants, as though she waited tables. Her sturdy shoes confirmed my theory.

  She was pretty. I figured she’d make good tips.

  “Then you’d better hurry up, so you’re not late.” Sean made no effort to fetch the beer himself, merely ushered us toward his living room.

  What was this woman, his servant? I was annoyed on her behalf.

  But she hesitated for only a heartbeat, then didn’t take issue with his tone. “I don’t have any money.”

  Sean complained under his breath, then dug out his worn wallet and rummaged through it. He threw a ten at her, apparently not caring that it landed on the floor. She scooped it up like a dutiful little dog and ran to fetch his beer.

  I felt like tossing my cookies.

  Sean gestured expansively to the tatty plaid couch. “Make yourself at home.” The reclining chair was clearly his throne and not available to anyone else. He parked himself in it and leaned back while I had a good look around.

  The place was reasonably clean, if somewhat down at heel. There was a big pile of empties in the kitchen—Sean’s taste seemed to run to cheap domestic brands. Either they didn’t keep a fastidious kitchen or he drank a lot.

  I eyed his gut and decided that it was the latter.

  His smile faded as Nick said nothing. “I suppose you’ve been out kissing up to Lucia again.”

  “I haven’t talked to Lucia in fifteen years.”

  It was strange to see how little the two brothers had in common. I’d noticed it that long ago night, but the years had made the differences more acute. Where once they had looked so much the same that they could have been confused for each other—and had been, much to Sean’s benefit—now they barely looked related. They might have been the same height still, but Sean looked shorter and was certainly rounder.

  And their mannerisms were as different as chalk and cheese. Nick barely moved and certainly was a man of few words in comparison with his gregarious brother. “How is she?”

  Sean shrugged and looked away. “We had a big fight—seems the old bitch didn’t think I was living up to dear old Dad’s memory in the way she’d planned.”

  He rummaged through the open beer cans on the table beside him. I had the frightening thought that if he did find some dregs in one can, he’d insist on offering it to his guests.

  “You always reminded her of him.”

  Sean rolled his eyes. “What a pain in the ass that was. Jesus Jenny, she could never leave it alone. It got a lot worse after you left, I’ll say that. I guess she had nothing else to do once her golden boy was gone but try to remake me.”

  Nick shook his head. “You were always her favorite.”

  “Yeah, right. That would be why she ruined my life.”

  Nick expression turned impassive, which I was starting to realize was a big clue. I guessed he was angry enough that he wouldn’t say anything.

  “Ruined your life by taking you in and raising you?” I asked sweetly. “Gee, your own room in one of the biggest houses in Rosemount, along with more money and stability than you can shake a stick at. My heart is bleeding for you.”

  Sean’s eyes flashed. “What do you know about it? She did me no favor, that’s for sure. I could have been somebody! I could have gotten in with the right crowd. But no, Lucia had to make sure everybody was terrified of her. Such a goddamn freak. And worse, it rubbed off on me!”

  There was bitterness. “It was like she hexed me or something. I didn’t get that football scholarship, even though I was way better than that Fergusson kid.” He stuck out his chin and glared at Nick. “Do you know what happened to him?”

  “No.”

  “Figures. Princeton. He played quarterback, got picked up in the NFL draft and now he’s retired, after making huge bags of bucks. Poor guy. His knee hurts.” He rattled the empty cans more impatiently. “I feel so sorry for him in his billion dollar house. And me, what happened to me? I couldn’t even get a
joe job in Rosemount after high school. Yeah, Lucia did us a big favor.”

  We all knew that there were other reasons, reasons of Sean’s own making, that he had been shunned by the good folk of Rosemount.

  Nick finally spoke, his voice low. “And everything that went wrong would be Lucia’s fault?”

  “Obviously! You know they say she’s a witch—well, I was her numero uno victim.” He snorted. “All because I couldn’t be my daddy come back from the dead for her. As if I had a chance of doing that.”

  “You can’t think that you did nothing to deserve being ostracized,” I said, because I was as incredulous as Nick but not nearly so determined to keep my mouth shut.

  “I did one thing. I let this fool—” he jabbed a finger in Nick’s direction “—when he was all of eight and filled with the wisdom of the ages, decide that we were going to live with the old bat. One mistake when I was six goddamn years old and I’m still paying for it.”

  The ensuing silence was awkward at best.

  “You have a job?” Nick asked quietly.

  Sean shook his head. “Back injury. I’m on comp.”

  I refrained from asking how Lucia had hexed him all the way to Boston.

  “It’s running out though, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He studied Nick, obviously making an assessment. “That jacket’s nicer than I thought at first. You must be doing okay, big brother.”

  Nick straightened ever so slightly. “Well enough.”

  “Don’t suppose you could see your way to lending me a few thou?”

  Nick’s smile was cool. “No.”

  “Why the hell not? We’re blood!”

  “You’ve borrowed all from me that you’re going to get.”

  “You have been talking to the old witch! You always took her side.”

  “Only when she was right.”

  Animosity sparked between the two of them, then Sean shook his head. He picked up another can, wiggling it hopefully. “Don’t know what the hell’s taking Josie so long. She’s not usually so slow.”

  “Maybe she left you,” I offered.

  Sean scowled at me. “She may be a stupid bitch, but she’s not that dumb.”

  “Seeing as you’re a prince among men and a good catch?” I just couldn’t keep my mouth closed, even when Nick touched my elbow.

  Sean shook a finger at me. “Someone ought to rip that tongue out of your head and...”

  Nick interjected smoothly. “Shut up, Sean.”

  To my surprise, Sean did.

  He fidgeted in his chair, his gaze flicking between the two of us. “Maybe you ought to leave. This reunion doesn’t seem to be going all that well.” He made a show of stretching his back and wincing. “I didn’t get much sleep last night and my back is killing me.”

  “When did you last saw Lucia?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  Nick studied his hands, clearly choosing his words with care. “Something may have happened to her.”

  “You did come back to kiss up!”

  “When, Sean? It’s a simple question.”

  “You came back and she wasn’t there. She probably ran away to the circus like she should have years ago. Or flew off on her broomstick.” Sean chuckled to himself. “Or maybe she’s done with both of us. Hey, maybe if the old bitch up and finally died, she’d leave me some cash, seeing as I’m her favorite and all.” He leered at Nick.

  The joke, if it was one, fell pretty flat. There was no color in Nick’s face and his eyes were glittering green.

  “She is dead, Sean.”

  Sean’s mouth worked for a moment.

  Nick continued with a toneless impassivity that I knew meant he was furious. “Someone stabbed her in the greenhouse, someone who knew I was coming to see her, someone who tried to set me up to take his fall.”

  He flicked a quick glance at Sean and Sean flinched. “Strangely enough, it made me think of you. The only thing I wanted to know is why you did it, and you just gave me the answer.”

  “Me? Shit, I would never...”

  “Save it, Sean. I’ll find out the truth, probably quicker on my own than if I listen to you.” Nick got up and offered me his hand. “And this time, I’ll make sure you don’t just walk away.”

  We headed for the door as Sean bounded to his feet. He loosed a torrent of obscenities fit to curl my hair, nearly shouting down the walls, but he didn’t come after Nick.

  I guess I wasn’t the only one playing compare and contrast.

  Nick paused on the threshold. “You never did learn about consequences, Sean, and that was partly my fault.” He smiled a chilly smile. “It’s time I fixed that.”

  “You bastard! It was you, it was you who made that call last night!” He started hurling empties after us and we ducked out in the hall as they dinged off the trim. We scampered down the stairs as he raged on above us. “I knew no one around here had the balls to call the cops.” His tirade degenerated into a snarl of obscenities.

  “What’s he talking about?”

  Nick marched down the stairs. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Well, actually I do.” I marched right beside him. “That would be why I asked.”

  He ignored me, flicking a finger at woman coming our way. “Is that Josie?”

  An expert deflection and one that worked like a charm. It was Josie, emerging from the corner store with a six of Bud. Her face fell when she saw us hurrying toward her.

  “Oh, no! There was a line and I knew I would take too long...”

  Nick smiled for her. “No, Josie, we just left quickly.”

  She looked up at the muted sound of Sean’s shouting and paled slightly, clearly identifying who was yelling. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Could you talk to us for a minute?”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, I don’t think so. I need to get to work.”

  And get the monster his beer. It really irked me how determined she was to keep Sean happy. She might have rushed past us to hurry home, but Nick matched step with her. I fell in on the other side, wondering what he was up to.

  “Is he always home?”

  “Well, yes, since he hurt his back.”

  “What about yesterday?”

  She hesitated, her dark eyes darting between the two of us. “Why?”

  “How’s your arm, Josie?”

  She flushed then, as red as a candy apple. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Right there,” Nick said softly. He moved so quickly that she didn’t anticipate him and she winced at the touch of his fingertip on her upper arm.

  She started to stammer, but Nick kept on talking, his voice as smooth as old Scotch.

  “Does he always hurt you where no one can see the bruise?”

  A puzzle piece clicked into place for me and I was even more appalled than I had been a minute before.

  The color completely left Josie’s face. “You can’t know...” She shook her head and shut her mouth. She might not be the sharpest tack in the box but she was cornered and she knew it. “I have to go.”

  “Yesterday, Josie.”

  She stopped on the steps to her building, her head down and her hair obscuring her face. “He’s a good guy, you know. He’s good to me.”

  “When he’s sober?” I asked. “Or all the time?”

  “It was better when he had a job.” She was so defensive of him that it nearly broke my heart. “He’ll come out of this, I know he will. Then everything will be fine.”

  “Yesterday?” Nick asked, his voice more gentle.

  She turned and looked at us, her eyes filled with tears. “He borrowed my cousin’s car to go for a job interview. It didn’t go well—that’s why he’s upset.” Her features set in stubborn defense. “It’s not fair.”

  “Where can I find your cousin?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “He’s your brother. You shouldn’t be checking up on him.”

  “Well, I am.”

  “I forget my cous
in’s number.”

  “Do you remember your cousin’s name?” I asked.

  Her lips set tightly. “No.”

  Nick made a growly sound in his throat, but I’ve seen enough cop movies to guess that she might change her mind. I pulled out one of my cards, wrote my home number on the back and handed it to her. “If you remember, give me a call.”

  “I thought he was the one asking the questions.”

  She had me there but Nick answered with surprising ease. “Phil will know where I am.”

  I had a split second to marvel at his certainty of that before Sean roared from above. Josie ran up the last of the stairs, not even troubling herself to say goodbye.

  But she stuffed that card into her pocket as she ran.

  * * *

  Nick was seething. There were little eruption warnings all along the fault line. I could feel it as I practically ran to keep up with him, and practically see the steam coming from his ears.

  It was worse once we got into the Beast. I started the engine, but Nick just sat and stared straight ahead.

  “So, how are we going to nail him?” I asked. I caught the barest glimpse of his anger before he narrowed his eyes and hid it from me.

  “We aren’t going to do anything.”

  I edged the Beast out of the tight spot and darted into a break in the traffic. The dragon in the passenger seat was not amused by this move but had the good sense to keep his opinion to himself.

  He certainly wasn’t chatty.

  I decided that the ambiance needed a boost. “Why do I get the feeling you have issues with commitment?”

  It was intended as a joke, but Nick didn’t crack a smile. “I don’t have any issues with it.”

  “You just think you’re the Lone Ranger?”

  “I like to keep things simple.”

  “How simple?”

  “I commit to what I can carry. No more and no less.”

  It made a certain amount of sense. “Nothing but a footprint?”

  “Exactly. You can let me off here.”

  “I don’t think so.” I touched the gas and merged on to a busier street.

  “Phil.”

  “I’ll let you out, right after I tell you about a little something about footprints. You’re kidding yourself if you think you can skate through life without leaving an impression of your passing.”