Sound of Darkness

“And a brother.”

“Are you the oldest, youngest, in the middle?” he asked.

“Yes—we’re triplets.”

“Triplets! Wow. Are you identical? Oh, man, sorry, that was idiotic. I guess not—you have a brother.”

Colleen laughed. “You’d be surprised how often we get that with people not realizing it isn’t possible. We all have green eyes. Patrick’s hair is close to black, it’s so dark, and Megan is much fairer than I am. She’s kind of a honey blonde. I think you’d know we were related, but besides that...”

“Nice. Nice to have siblings.”

“Do you—” Colleen began.

He quickly cut her off. “Well, the guy is a legit historian and author. So, yes, he had reason to move to New York. Center of publishing and a historic city. I assume he does decently—”

“Megan would tell you no matter how esteemed you may be, you don’t necessarily get rich when publishing in academia.”

“True. But it sounds as if he makes a fair income.”

Colleen frowned and then shook her head. “I wonder why they broke up? Sally is a teacher. I wonder why she didn’t want to move to New York. There are schools everywhere, and teachers are always in demand.”

“A lot of people just don’t want to pick up and move. I don’t know. We’d have to ask them.”

“I hate the personal stuff,” Colleen said. “And I wonder, how do we explain what we’re asking in this situation?”

“You mean asking personal questions about intimate relationships when we really have no reason—other than that they were an item—to suspect the man of anything?”

Colleen nodded. “How do we do it?”

He smiled, looking ahead. “Very carefully,” he told her.

“Ah, great. Lots of help.”

“We’ll do it together. Though...”

“Though?” Colleen pressed.

“You might be better at that kind of thing than me.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot!”

He glanced at her quickly, grinning. “We do all have our special talents!”

Colleen groaned. “Whoever said that careful, tactful questioning was mine?”

“It’s obvious. You’re just so nice.”

She looked at him, arching a brow. “I’m so good and I’m so nice, huh? Okay, why did you change the subject—”

“I didn’t change the subject. We’ve been discussing Sally and Brant Pickering and their breakup.”

“Ah, but you asked about my siblings. And you knew I was going to ask about yours.”

“Did I?”

“You know you did. Please. I’m pretty much so an open book. We’re working together, whether you like it or not—”

“You’ve proven yourself competent.”

“Wow! What a compliment!”

He stared at the road ahead and shrugged.

“Well, I didn’t come from a family like yours,” he said.

He was quiet for a minute. She didn’t press him.

He shrugged again, let out a long breath, and decided to answer her.

“When I was just a boy, my mother was working as a stripper. I loved her. I didn’t really understand what she did.” He turned to look at Colleen. “She had been orphaned, and she needed a way to make a living. But then...she was murdered. They found her body in an alley. She’d been raped and her throat slashed.”

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!” Colleen said. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his eyes on the traffic as he continued. “There had been another, similar murder a few weeks before. The FBI had been called in almost immediately. The FBI agent who had the case came to the funeral. I admired him. But it was at the funeral that I, well, saw the dead for the first time. My mom. She said she knew I was still young, but she needed me to know that while she’d never had a chance to marry my father, she had loved him very much. He’d been a soldier and was killed in combat. She was hoping to find him, but she wanted me to know I had been loved and wanted. She asked me to please remember that—whatever was to come. Anyway, she also gave me information about the man who killed her and warned me I shouldn’t tell anyone how I knew; they would think that I was crazy. So, I told the FBI man about the guy—just saying my mother had been bothered by him at work. They got a search warrant and came up with evidence that linked him to not only my mom’s murder, but also the one before—and three before that.”

“And you were how old?” Colleen asked him.