Page 176 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“Maybe.”

Elliot looked up sharply. Ronan almost smiled.

“Sorry.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah.”

The tension loosened by a fraction. Ronan's phone vibrated. Both froze. He pulled it out. Dylan. A photograph. Ronan opened it. His stomach dropped. Dylan's apartment door. A white envelope had been taped to the center. One word was written across the front in black ink.

RONAN

Elliot moved beside him.

“What the fuck?”

Another message arrived.

DYLAN: tell me this isn't from you

Then:

DYLAN: cops are coming

Ronan stared at the photograph. Someone had gone to Dylan's apartment. Someone knew Dylan knew Ronan. Someone wanted Ronan's name attached to that door. Elliot took the phone from his hand.

“Don't touch the envelope.”

“Dylan knows that.”

“Tell him anyway.”

Ronan typed. Another message appeared before he could send it.

DYLAN: there's something inside

Ronan's pulse jumped.

RONAN: DO NOT OPEN IT

The typing bubble appeared. Stopped. Returned. Then:

DYLAN: too late

A photograph loaded. Inside the envelope was a printed image. Ronan recognized it immediately. Him. Standing outside Bellweather Police headquarters Saturday morning. Elliot beside him. Except Elliot had been cut out. The photograph showed only Ronan. Across the bottom, someone had written three words. WRONG BROTHER, DETECTIVE. Neither of them spoke. Ronan read it again. Wrong brother. His skin went cold. Elliot's face had gone white. Ronan looked at him.

“What does that mean?”

“I don't know.”

“Elliot.”

“I don't.”

This time there was no calculation. No delay. No careful answer. Elliot looked genuinely frightened. Ronan took the phone back. Another message from Dylan.

DYLAN: what the fuck is this