“Turn around,” the investigator orders. “We’re not done until I say we’re done.”
“It was Zach,” Caylon calls out. “Can the rest of us go?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I yell back at him. “You’re such a whiny little bitch. Zach didn’t kill anyone. You want to continue your vendetta against him, at least fight fair.”
Caylon scoffs, “Because that’s how he does it.”
“Both of you shut it,” Riley calls out, his face flushed and sweating. The gun in his hand isn’t the one I used. That must still be tucked into his waistband. Still in its bag. Still marked with my prints.
But holding a gun isn’t the same as murder.
I glance at Caylon, who I suspect hates me most of the time, but who still planted incriminating evidence on a man’s computer to help reunite me and my sister. Trent, my self-appointed guardian, who’s been looking out for me from day one.
And Zach, who has done for me the things I couldn’t do for myself. Whose broken edges line up so perfectly against mine, making us both whole. The one who brought me into this dysfunctional family kicking and screaming until I can’t imagine a life without them.
“My fingerprints are on the weapon,” I admit, stepping forward. Caylon glares and opens his mouth but this time Trent growls and moves towards him, stopping whatever he was going to say cold. “The one you showed me. I bought it from a dealer I used to shift product for.”
“All of you need to stop lying,” Mrs McClure states, her body tense as a tightrope. “My son died and you’re all acting like this was nothing.”
“Who says I’m lying?” I shuffle closer, angling my head to the side as I fix on her expression. The control she started with is gone and all that remains is a confused, middle-aged woman. “I bought the gun. My fingerprints are on it. If that’s what you wanted to know, we can all go home.”
“What I want to know is who killed my son.”
“Nobody killed your son,” I roar in her face, forcing her back a step. Then I stop, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Wait. That might not be true any longer. Robbie has a way of making enemies out of even the closest friends, so there’s every chance he crossed someone in Auckland or wherever he ended up and they decided to end him.”
“He didn’t go to Auckland,” Riley says. The gun is by his side—not pointed at anyone—but I won’t feel comfortable until it’s unloaded and tossed into a metal shredder. “I checked every service and every route out of the city. He came here, then there’s no trace.”
“Your inability to track him doesn’t mean he didn’t go.” I pull my phone out to check the time, causing the investigator to raise his weapon until he sees the innocuous device in my hand. “Are we done here? It’s my sister’s first weekend home and I want to be there.”
“No, we’re notdone.” Riley glances around the boys, trying to read something in their stony expression. “What happened that night? Why would Robbie suddenly decide to up and leave?”
“He didn’tdecide,” Zach says with full malice. “We told him to go. Our boss wasn’t too happy with some of his actions and because of our friendship, he generously offered him the chance to leave instead.”
“Instead of what?” Mrs McClure snaps.
“Are you properly this thick, lady?” I lunge towards her until she shrieks and falls back. “Instead of ending up in an acid bath somewhere. What d’you think?”
Jimmy Riley tries the same trick on me, and I retreat to where Trent and Zach stand. “Name some of these ‘actions,’” he orders, phrasing the last word in air quotes.
Caylon rubs a hand over his face. “Robbie stuffed up the address for a protection job. Ended up threatening some guy who’d paid his dues already.” Then, just in case anyone’s in the dark with his couched language, he adds, “Put him in hospital and caused a load of hassle up the chain.”
“He took an unauthorised break when he was standing guard,” Trent contributes. “Thieves got into a place they shouldn’t and him being elsewhere was the rose-coloured glasses version.”
Zach pulls me back, giving me a hug before manoeuvring me behind him. “Robbie lost a shipment. It turned up three days later, but the hours of labour for the search were higher than the forecast profit.”
“Or you did all those things and just found him a handy scapegoat,” Mrs McClure growls. “He never told me anything about being in trouble at work.”
“Did he tell you he raped my friend at a party, then was dumb enough to post the video online?” Zach’s gesture to keep me safe was sweet, but I walk around him, heading for the woman until Riley’s gun arm twitches. “Would you like to see?”
Her face is bright red, mouth twisted as she shouts, “That’s a lie!”
I stalk closer to her. “How about you leave now, and you can keep whatever precious memories you have of your son safe?” When Riley looks to take a step, Trent moves in to ensure his distance. “That’s the best deal on offer tonight.”
“No. I want to know everything.”
There’s a shortcut on my phone. After everything that’s happened, I still find my way back to the upload sometimes. A reminder of why I am where I am. What I lost along the way.
“Showme,” Riley insists. “I don’t want you upsetting my client with some filth you cobbled together to smear her son’s name.”
