Page 24 of Line of Sight
Amy made a choking sound. “Oh my God, you’re serious.”
I snickered. “Brad already said that. Couldn’t you come up with something more original? OfcourseI’m serious.” I leaned forward again. “Now, back to the matter in hand. You may decidenotto take me up on my generous offer. That’s your prerogative. Butifthat’s your decision, you are bound to secrecy to reveal nothing about the murder of Scott McCarthy.” I gave them all a cold stare, aiming to put as much menace in my glance as I could. “Tellanyone, and I will happily point them in the direction of evidence thatwillconvict you.” I softened my gaze. “But you’d be wise not to brush aside my proposal. Because one day, you may find there’s someone in your path that you can’t remove.” I smiled. “ButIcan. What’s more, I’ll be happy to do it. None of you is capable of murder, so take advantage of the fact that I most definitely am.”
I sat back and waited for their reaction.
Jennifer stared at me, eyes wide. “Now wait a minute. You just said you’rehappyto do this.I’mhappy to help my dad clean out the gutters, but I don’twantto do it. Why wouldyouwant to do this?”
I returned her stare. “To quote Lady Bracknell inThe Importance of Being Earnest, ‘A man should always have an occupation of some kind.’ Maybe this kind of occupation suits me down to the ground.”
Maybe it’s what I was born to do.
Greg’s brows knitted. “What’s the catch? Because there has to be one. What onerous task do we have to perform for you?”
The first crack in the mask of outrage and horror.
I smiled. “That’s easy. You never mention me. Ever. There can be nothing that connects me to any of you.” I rose. “I’ll leave you to discuss it. I don’t expect to meet any of you again—unless, of course, you decide otherwise.”
And with that, I walked out of the tavern.
Sure, one or more of them might contact the police, but I didn’t think so. And if they did, the police would never catch me. The prospect of any of them accepting my offer excited me more than anything had since….
Well, since the murder of Scott McCarthy.
Chapter Fourteen
Friday, December 7, 2018
GARY FINISHEDhis coffee. “I’ve been thinking about what Sean told us. If he noticed a change in Brad, maybe Mom or Dad did too.” And maybe asking specifically about that time might jog a memory.
“Call them,” Dan suggested.
He smiled. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” He picked up his phone and speed-dialed.
Mom answered. “What’s wrong? You never call me during a workday.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he hastened to assure her. “It’s just that I have what might sound like an odd question. The last times you saw Brad, especially starting in the February before he died, did you notice anything about him? Was anything different?”
Mom was silent for a moment, and then he caught her sigh. “Yes. He was quiet, and that wasn’t like him. I felt sure there was something on his mind, but when I asked him, he wouldn’t say. Why do you ask? Did Dan pick up on something when he was here?”
He didn’t miss the hopeful note in her voice.
“No, Mom. Okay, thanks. I’ll let you get back to whatever you’re in the middle of.”
She chuckled. “Thankyoufor a break from ironing. We’ll see you before Christmas, right?”
He confirmed they’d visit, then hung up.
“Well? Anything?”
Gary relayed what Mom had said.
Dan frowned. “There’s no way we’ll ever know what was worrying him. Not unless we find something else that reveals it.”
Gary’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. “It’s Sean.” He clicked on Answer, then put the call on speaker. “Hey, what can I do for you?”
“It occurred to me after you left that I still have some of Brad’s stuff. Things I kept, things I felt sure wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. Books, mostly.”
Dan jerked his head up. “Can we take a look?” he called out.
