“I know. I’m different, too. Will he recognize me?”
“I think so. Do you think you’ll recognize him?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I squeeze his fingers. “That I won’t. That he’s been gone for so long and dead for so long that I won’t even know my own brother.”
“We don’t have to go in there.” He shakes his head. “I can just keep driving.”
“No, we have to find out.” I look at him and lean across the truck to kiss him gently. “Someone killed Megan. We need closure.”
He doesn’t argue when I get out. He follows, moving slowly and carefully. His wounds are still bothering him, and when this horrible meeting is over, I promise myself we’ll take a break. We’ll find somewhere safe and quiet, and Rian can take as much time as he wants to heal and get himself back together. I’ll have to quit Wolf, but that’s fine. It’s too dangerous to commute to the city constantly anyway. There are other jobs.
I walk arm-in-arm with Rian to the front door. I suck in a nervous breath and ring the bell.
A dog barks. I spot him through the windows beside the door. He’s a black lab, woofing and wagging his tail. I ring again, and someone appears at the dog’s side, pulling him into a gated room to the left before answering the door.
She’s pretty, just like in the picture, but older now. There are lines around her eyes and her hair’s cut shorter, but it’s her. Queenie smiles a little awkwardly, looking between us, and her smile turns confused as she stares at me.
“I was hoping your husband was home,” I say, blinking rapidly, suddenly afraid this is a huge mistake.
If Shane killed Megan to keep his family from being found—what would he do with me?
“Is he expecting you?” Queenie’s smile turns into a confused frown. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?”
“My name’s Daley. This is Rian.”
Rian nods at her. “Good to meet you, Queenie.”
She takes a step back as if shot, and I nudge Rian’s ribs. He grins and shrugs like he couldn’t help himself.
“How do you—” Her eyes go wide. “Daley. Daley Halloran. You’re his sister.”
“That’s right,” I say, smiling at her. “What’s Shane go by now? I know you two use different names.”
She shakes her head. “Sawyer. Like that character on Lost… God, you’re his little sister.”
“Can we come in?” I ask. “I was hoping I could talk to him.”
“Yeah, of course. He’s, uh, he’s up in his office. I’ll get him. Please, come in.”
She leads us into a foyer. There’s a dining room on the left closed off by a baby gate. The dog stands behind it, wagging his tail, excited to see us. Rian pets him, grinning. There’s a staircase on the right, and Queenie drifts to it.
“Why don’t you two wait in the kitchen, right through there? I’ll get him. God, shit, Daley Halloran…” She trails off, looking like she’s seen a ghost, then hurries upstairs and into a room on the right.
“She’s spooked,” Rian says as we walk into the room past the stairs. On the left is a couch and a TV around a coffee table, and on the right is a kitchen. A big wooden table separates the two spaces. Photographs hang on the walls, mostly black and white, all of them nicely framed, and kid stuff is scattered all over. There are plants on a bookshelf and dishes in the drying rack, and overall, it’s a nice house. Clean, neat, orderly. Nice and simple.
Normal.
I sit at the table and Rian joins me. He sighs with pleasure and looks around.
“I never would’ve pegged someone in your family as so… suburban.” He laughs and shakes his head. “I bet the refrigerator is full of peanut butter sandwiches and Miller Lite. I bet he’s got a riding mower in the garage.”
“Is that what you think being suburban is?”
“I don’t know, honestly.”
“You realize that Delco is the suburbs?”
He waves that off. “Delco is a world unto itself.”
I roll my eyes and squeeze his leg, trying to find some courage. This is Shane, my older brother. He wouldn’t do something crazy, like hurt me, and maybe I have it all wrong with Megan. Maybe Shane had nothing to do with it.
But the longer they’re upstairs, the worse I feel.
“What are you thinking?” Rian asks.
“I’m wondering if we made a mistake.”
“Too late now.”
“What are they doing?”
“Discussing us like we’re discussing them.”
“Think he’s going to—?” I let that hang in the air.
Rian shrugs. “I doubt it, but I’m ready.” He moves my hand down to something hard in his waistband.
“You brought a gun into my brother’s suburban house?”
“I’m sure it’s not the only one in here.”
Footsteps on the stairs silence our conversation. Queenie appears, looking nervous, rubbing her hands together and smiling, and behind her a man hangs back in the hallway door, staring at me with an open mouth.