Tell Me Pretty Lies

In the weeks that followed Danny’s death, Grey had already checked out, both physically and mentally before we even moved out of Whittemore. He went back to school, so he has no idea what happened during that time.

“Danny died, Mom and August split, and then you left. And now…”

“Now, what?”

“Now I’m just…alone.” It sounds pathetic even to my own ears, but I keep going. “Mom is hiding something. You never talk to me anymore. Everyone’s keeping secrets. I had to move back to the town where all my old friends hate me.”

“Back up. What’s up with Mom?”

I roll my eyes. Of course that’s the part of the story he’d focus on. “I don’t know. You know that weird sniff thing she does when she’s lying?”

He nods.

“She does it a lot. And I saw her with some random guy a few weeks back, looking pretty cozy. Just this morning, she was whispering on the phone with August.”

His brows furrow together in thought as he swipes a discarded t-shirt from the floor and pulls it on over his head. “I don’t see how that’s exactly a case for the FBI, Shayne.”

“It’s not only that,” I say, feeling frustrated. Grey moves around the room, swiping some deodorant under his arms, then grabs his hat from the small table next to his bed. “I can’t explain it. I just get the feeling that there’s something going on that we don’t know about.”

Grey keeps moving around the room, looking anywhere but my direction as he collects his keys and wallet. His cagey behavior is starting to make me feel on edge.

“Did you have a fight with Danny?” I ask point-blank. Grey tenses, and an uneasy feeling creeps up my spine. “The night he died,” I clarify.

“Where did you hear that?” he asks, his tone defensive, his hazel eyes finally meeting mine.

“Thayer mentioned—”

“You’re still talking to Thayer?” His eyebrows shoot up.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t want you around him. Or any of them.”

I huff out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich coming from someone who can’t even bother to return a phone call.” They’ve been there for me more than he has this past year, which is really something considering we were enemies only three seconds ago.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he yells. “I was going through my own shit, stuck in my head, and I didn’t realize you’d be going through it, too.”

“Just tell me what happened that night.”

“I can’t.”

I shake my head, disappointment rolling off me in waves. “Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“What?” he barks, his head snapping up to meet my eyes, and I see the realization set in. “Is that why you’re here? You think I killed Danny?”

“No,” I say, considering my words and how much to tell him. I decide to come out and just say it, because it’s been nearly a year of secrecy, and everyone knows that secrets can only hide out in the dark. It’s time to shed some light. “But someone did.”

“Explain.”

“Thayer and Holden think someone pushed Danny. And that the person is trying to cover it up.”

“What makes them think that?” he hedges, running a hand through his light brown hair.

“Something wasn’t adding up, so they tried to get a copy of the nine-one-one call, and it’s sealed. They won’t give them the police report either.”

My brother’s eyes widen, and he blows out a breath, dropping back down to sit on the edge of his bed. “We did have an argument,” he admits. “But it wasn’t anything serious.”

“So why didn’t you just say that?”