Page 69

DOYLE

The monsoon cameout of nowhere. But why not? Doyle thought as he drove the shovel into the ground. His muscles screamed in response to the repeated movement. The world itself seemed to be against him as Otto paced like a rabid wolf, gun in hand. He knew the body had to be around here somewhere, but damn Sadie had done a good job. That woman never ceased to amaze him.

His only real hope was that Nicole would be angry enough to send security after him when he didn’t show. But how long he could stall once he found the body, he didn’t know.

Otto rubbed an arm across his nose as water dribbled down his face. “I knew you’d killed him. He ain’t never been gone this long before.”

Doyle bit his tongue, figuring if he mentioned Eli being an asshole it would probably put Otto in a worse mood.

That’s when he noticed the back door crack open and Teddy’s face peak out, pale in the light of the moon even through the rain. The kid played a dangerous game, though the shotgun barrel poked through the opening with him. Doyle wanted to scream but held it back, putting the anxious energy into his digging. All he could do was pray, please don’t notice him. Please be a good shot like your mom.

The shovel hit something that wasn’t dirt, and Doyle let out a garbled sound.

“What?” Otto demanded, bending over to inspect things closer, gun in hand. Safety off.

“I think I found something.”

“You best hope it’s my brother.” Otto snatched the shovel from his hand and sent the back end of the gun flying at Doyle’s head.

He heard it connect with his skull before he felt the pain. Next thing he knew, he lay on the cold, wet earth, head throbbing and something warmer than the water flowing above in his eyes.

Howling like a coyote, Otto’s sobs cut through the night. He knelt nearby, cradling his brother’s remains. “Where’s his head, you monster?”

Doyle’s mouth opened, but his brain hadn’t righted itself enough yet to get words out coherently.

“What’s that body doing in there?” Teddy asked from above.

The kid’s voice forced Doyle upward through the throbbing dizziness to find Teddy above Otto, aiming the shotgun at him.

“Ask him,” Otto ground out, still rocking the body of his brother.

Head spinning and stomach lurching, Doyle leaned down on hands and knees to vomit on the ground.

“It don’t matter,” Teddy said. “If either Wally or Ma did that, then I know they had a damn good reason.”

“Watch your mouth, boy,” Otto growled.

“It’s true,” Teddy said with a tilt of his head.

Every tendon visible on Otto’s body popped out as he tensed. Doyle had to do something. If Otto grabbed the gun successfully, it was over for both of them. But if Teddy pulled the trigger, well, that was something he’d never get over, and Doyle couldn’t let that happen either.

“You want me to tell you what happened, Otto?” he asked, still shaky, but forcing himself upright. “The truth?”

“That’d be a first,” Otto said. But his attention was now on Doyle, and that’s where it needed to stay.

“He came to propose to Sadie, like he said.”

“And found the two of you—” Otto nearly dropped his brother’s body as he, too, clamored to his feet in the mud.

“Listen!” Doyle shouted, spraying some of the water out that ran down his face in rivulets. “I’m telling you the truth. And there is a lot more to it. Problem is, you don’t really want to hear it because you know Eli wasn’t the saint you make him out to be.”

“Talk.” Otto said, and Doyle swallowed, stalking forward. The gun in Otto’s hand pointed toward the ground at his side, which helped give Doyle courage.

“I wasn’t here yet. See, I was searching for a machine I’d made. It was a flying machine.”

Otto laughed, but Doyle continued.

“A piece got knocked off, and it found your brother’s head.”