Page 136 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Ronan frowned.

“Why?”

“Just don't.”

Suspicion flickered. Not murder. Not yet. But the question appeared. Why? Elliot felt it. He released him.

“Lawyer conversations should be private.”

Ronan studied him. Then nodded slowly.

“Right.”

Elliot smiled. Ronan called. Elliot walked toward the windows. Vance's sedan remained near the main drive. She hadn't left yet. Through bare branches, Elliot could just make out her figure behind the windshield. Sitting. Watching. His smile disappeared. The dangerous brother. That was what Bellweather wanted. Someone obvious. Someone angry. Someone with black clothes, a motorcycle, fights in his past, and a face strangers already distrusted. Ronan was almost perfect. Almost. Elliot pressed two fingers against the cold window glass. Detective Vance's car finally pulled away. He watched until it disappeared. The investigation could look at Ronan. It could question him. Photograph his jackets. Dig through every ugly thing he'd ever done. But it would not take him. Elliot would make sure of that.

Even if protecting Ronan meant giving Bellweather someone else to fear.

Chapter Twelve — Someone Is Lying

RONAN

SUNDAY · 6:18 P.M.

Ronan knew Elliot was lying before Elliot finished the sentence. It wasn't the words. The words were fine. Perfectly reasonable, actually. Claire had called. Claire needed help. Elliot had gone to campus. He'd be back before dinner. Nothing unusual. Nothing suspicious. Nothing that should have made Ronan stand in the middle of the carriage-house kitchen with his phone pressed to his ear and stare through the dark windows toward an empty driveway.

“Claire needed help with what?”

A pause. Tiny.

“Her research proposal.”

Ronan looked at the clock above the stove. 6:18.

“On a Sunday night?”

“She procrastinates.”

True. Claire absolutely procrastinated. That should have helped. It didn't.

“What class?”

Another pause. Smaller than the first.

“Methods.”

Ronan's jaw tightened. Elliot's voice remained easy. Too easy.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sound weird.”

Ronan almost laughed.

“You're asking me?”

“What does that mean?”