AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Finally. I have some use.” He smirked, turning on the radio in the car.
I hated the blasted thing. It only worked in ten to fifteen mile spurts before having to change the station because the irritating thing was almost twenty years old. However, country music seemed the last the longest. Why or how was a mystery to both of us. It was early enough the morning shows were still going. I thought Kyle would have given up, turn the radio back off. Instead, another report about our parents popped up. Police were getting desperate. I understood their need to close the case, but the more they tried to fit a square peg into a round hole, the more they were putting us in harm’s way.
“So, the police had a press conference this morning,” the DJ said. “They think the daughter and son are dead.”
“You don’t believe them?” the second DJ asked.
“No. Not at all. Look at the footage from the day of the murder. Her car is parked out front. Someone ransacked the house and there was blood everywhere. I think the daughter is off in the Cayman Islands drinking mojitos and living off mommy and daddy’s money.” He chuckled. “I mean, how many times have we seen spoiled rich kids pitch fits and in a fit of rage kill their parents or have them killed? Then they cry about it on the stand.”
“Where’s the brother, then? No one has seen him since that day either.”
“What if they’re not really siblings?” the first guy said. “What if they were having some kind of taboo affair?”
I glanced at Kyle, who made a gagging face. We were definitely not in some taboo relationship, and neither one of us would ever kill our parents. See, this was the shit I hated. The more those two idiots spoke, the more my brain dissolved into a pile of useless goo. “Change the channel. I can’t stomach this crap anymore.”
“Is what they said true? So, the news story this morning, what you were watching, was true?” Kyle fiddled with the radio, trying to find something more appropriate to listen to as I merged into the right lane coming to our exit.
“Yes. I just said that. It’s why the cashier freaked me out so bad. The police and investigators are making it official. I don’t know whether or not I should be relieved. Maybe whoever is after us will stop chasing us?” Ha, who was I kidding? The only people who knew the truth was us and them.
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Kyle shrugged.
“Indeed.”
We pulled up to the Daidone house about twenty minutes later. The stone and brick structure was more like a small two-story cottage than some massive behemoth of wealth and prestige. The driveway was paved and framed by intricate brick and tile inlays. On either side of the front steps were two potted topiary trees, trimmed within an inch of their lives. Small, black wrought iron fencing kept the bushes around the house uniform and tidy. Miceli’s home reminded me of ours. Always perfect. Always manicured. Appearances were everything in society, couldn’t allow a stray leaf to destroy that flawlessness.
I parked close to the door and took a second to prepare myself. I might have embellished my resume a little. Padded my qualifications. Gave some fake references I hoped he wouldn’t call. I could only pray he’d see my outgoing personality and determination and offer me the job right on the spot. Because there wasn’t an alternative for us.
“Knock his socks off,” Kyle whispered. “I’m going to take a nap while I wait.” He’d been reduced to pirating books and downloading videos off the internet when we had Wi-Fi for our burner phones. Most of the stuff he watched was of such horrible quality, I didn’t know how he could even see it.
“Tonight, we’ll celebrate if I get the job, okay?” I touched his arm. Depending on my salary, we might be able to finally stay somewhere longer than a few weeks. “Wherever you want.”
My brother nodded. “Sure. I’ll find us somewhere close by. No problem.”
He was placating me. He never got his hopes up anymore, and I didn’t blame him. We couldn’t have hopes and dreams. All of those vanished the day our parents were killed. “Okay. I’m off. Hopefully, I won’t be too long.”
The minute I opened the car door, the front door of the house opened, and a woman stood at the entry. She wore a maid’s uniform and had a prim expression on her face, which soured when she spotted our vehicle. Yeah, it wasn’t pretty, but rude much? Hadn’t she ever heard of not judging a book by its cover?
“Good morning,” I said, extending my hand in her direction as I drew near. “My name is Collins Attwood. Mr. Daidone’s expecting me.”
