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“Andrew, please, please call me,” she said. “They’re taking him away. They’ve come for Tyler.”
Even though she was outside, Jayne could hear scuffling and shouting up on the second floor. Then Tyler, screaming.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off me! I didn’t do anything! I only wanted to talk to her!”
Moments later, Hardy and the two officers emerged from the house with Tyler, his wrists cuffed behind him. Tears streamed down his face.
Jayne ran after him as he was bundled into the back of one of the police cars.
“It’s going to be okay!” she shouted. “I’ll find out what’s going on! I’m going to get you out of this!”
“I didn’t do it!” he kept shouting. “I didn’t!”
Tyler, once seated in the back of the car, turned and pressed his face to the window. His eyes were red with tears as he looked pleadingly at his sister.
She placed her hand on the glass. “Hang in there,” she said. “Just hang in there.”
An officer got behind the wheel and the car pulled away, Tyler twisting around so that he could see his sister out the rear window. Jayne, overwhelmed, felt on the verge of collapse. And then it happened. Slowly she crumpled, her legs weakening. She placed a hand on the pavement to keep her upper half upright.
She looked up and saw Detective Hardy standing there.
“How could you?” Jayne said. “What on earth do you think he’s done?”
“We’re arresting him in connection with a homicide,” the detective said.
“A homicide?” Jayne said disbelievingly. “Who?”
Hardy hesitated. “That picture I showed you on Saturday? The woman at Andrew’s old address? Her.”
“Brie,” Jayne whispered. “Brie Mason.”
Hardy extended a hand and helped Jayne get back to her feet.
“This woman’s name is Candace DiCarlo,” Hardy said. “Lived in a house over on Rosemont.”
Jayne blinked. “But … I don’t understand. I thought you said it was Brie.”
“I said it was the woman in the picture. But that woman isn’t Brie.”
“Are you sure? It’s not Brie, but this other woman—Candace?—with her identity?”
Hardy, stone-faced, said, “We’re in the early stages of our investigation, Ms. Keeling. I’m sorry. There’s not much I can tell you at this point.” She paused. “Do you know a good lawyer? Because your brother is going to need one.”
Jayne shook her head.
The detective sighed and gave Jayne a sympathetic look. “We can place him at the scene. He was witnessed riding away, covered in blood. He’s in a lot of trouble, Ms. Keeling. If I were you, I’d hire the best.”
The detective went back into the house, presumably, Jayne figured, to collect evidence.
This time, instead of phoning Andrew, she typed out a text. All caps. Two words.
BIG TROUBLE
It failed to deliver.
Forty-Six
Andrew
