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“Oh shit shit shit,” he said.
Jayne held him close, pulled him into her embrace. Tyler mumbled something that Jayne couldn’t make out.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Screwup,” he said. “Fucking screwup.”
“No, no, we’re going to fix this.”
“All my fault,” he said.
“What? What’s all your fault?”
He turned his head to look at her, his eyes red from weeping. “I never should have let him shovel the driveway. It was all my fault.”
Jayne blinked. “What are you …”
But she knew he was referring to their father, who dropped dead clearing snow while Tyler slept in.
“Tyler, what does that have to do with what’s happened today?”
He sniffed. “If he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have come here to live, and none of what’s happened … what happened today isn’t my fault, but they won’t believe that. It’s because of Dad. I’m going to be punished because of Dad.”
“Tyler, I don’t understand what—”
The doorbell rang.
Even before Jayne had turned her head in the direction of the door, the ring was followed by a loud, repetitive banging.
“Stay here,” she said to Tyler, and grabbed her phone as she fled the room.
She was almost out of breath by the time she reached the front door and opened it wide to find Detective Marissa Hardy standing there. Hardy had already noticed the bloody door handle.
“Ms. Keeling,” Hardy said. “Where is your brother?”
“Tyler?” she said, noticing that there were two uniformed officers standing behind the detective and three police cars on the street in front of the house.
Hardy already appeared to have run out of patience. “Do you have another brother, Ms. Keeling?”
“What do you want with Tyler?” Jayne asked.
Hardy waved an envelope in front of Jayne’s face. “We have a warrant for his arrest. Is he here?”
Jayne couldn’t find the words.
“Are there any weapons on the premises?” Hardy asked.
“No, of course not,” Jayne said. “This is ridiculous. Tyler wouldn’t hurt—”
“You believe he’s hurt someone?” Hardy asked. “Is there a reason why you think we’re here because Tyler hurt someone?”
Jayne was, once again, speechless.
Hardy pushed past her. The two uniformed officers followed.
“Please,” Jayne said, on the edge of weeping. “Please be gentle with him.”
She couldn’t bear to see it happen. She stepped out the front door, held up her phone, and called Andrew again. But this time the call immediately went to voice mail.
