Ray sank down into a chair at the kitchen table. Noah looked at him. The morning light was coming through the window above the sink and catching the side of Ray's face, and for a second Noah saw how tired his brother looked. Not the tiredness of one bad night. The tiredness of years.
Ray cleared his throat. "We looked into what you mentioned about Derek Hollis being abroad in Europe. Working on organic farms. That was true, but it wasn't a year, Noah. Though it does put him out of the country when Kara Ellison went missing." He paused. "The other victims. No. So we're moving ahead with the DA today. Charging Derek Hollis for the murder of the other victims based on what we have."
"Ruby's body, the rags, and the college IDs?" Noah said.
Ray nodded.
Noah let that sit. There was nothing to say that wouldn't lead back to the same wall they'd been standing at for the last ten minutes.
He studied his brother. “Strange. I figured you'd be celebrating," Noah said. "Yesterday's execution was a slam dunk for you. The Ellison case is officially closed. Derek Hollis is going down for the bodies in the bog. You're more than a foot in for the position of chief of High Peaks Police Department. No one is going to drag the Ellison case back into the light." He took a sip of water. "So why the glum look?"
"Tanya left me."
"Again? You say that as if it's a surprise. That gal has a two-second rebound. She'll be back tomorrow or next week."
"Not this time, Noah."
Noah was about to take another sip but he paused. "Please tell me you didn't go blow what savings you have left down at the Ashford Casino. Because you still owe me money."
"No," Ray said, getting up and going to the counter. "You mind if I make some coffee?"
"Help yourself."
Ray filled the kettle and set it on the stove. He leaned against the counter with his arms folded while the water heated.
"You name it, I'm guilty of it. She says I'm too closed off. I hold back too much. Not available. She doesn't trust me. I have secrets. She doesn't feel safe."
"You're a Sutherland. What does she expect?"
Ray looked at him. Something passed across his face that was slower and heavier than the conversation they'd been having. "No, she had a good point. I've become him, Noah." He glanced at him. "Dad."
Noah didn't respond. He set his flask down and waited.
Ray sighed. "You know, there was a time I looked up to that man. I bought into Dad's bullshit about the Sutherland name, the reputation, the legacy, the whole thing. I used to think that we were different. That we were somehow the ones who drew the line in the moral sand. The ones who kept the wolves back from the door. The ones who sacrificed family because someone had to pay the price, and that might as well be us. I used to think that was admirable."
"And now?"
"And now I'm convinced that we aren't any different than the wolves we try to keep at bay." The kettle started to whistle. Ray pulled it off the burner. "Dad used to say that criminals believed they were the hero of their story. We think that too. Reality is, we're the reverse. We're wolves in sheep's clothing with a badge." He looked at Noah. "Don't you think?"
"It doesn't matter what I think. Only what I do. Heroes, villains, saints, and sinners." Noah shook his head. "We very well might be all of them, Ray."
"And so who wins?"
"I'm not sure it's really about winning. As much as it is deciding what it costs us."
Ray nodded slowly. He spooned instant coffee into a mug and poured the water. The steam rose and he stared into it. "Well, it's just cost me my relationship."
"And your promotion?" Noah asked.
Ray looked at him. Noah held the gaze and let the silence do the work. He figured Ray knew what he was really saying. That the cost hadn't been a relationship or a title. It had been another man's life.
Ray stirred the coffee and took a sip. "You know, the older I get, the more terrified I am of being alone. Waking up one day, retired, wondering if the weight of the badge was really worth the cost." He smiled then. Not a real smile. The practiced one.The Sutherland one. "But hey, we all have our cross to bear, right?"
And there it was. The same cavalier attitude their father had. The same way Hugh would steer a conversation away from the thing that mattered and into something that sounded philosophical enough to pass for wisdom. Ray wasn't wrong. As much as each of them tried to pretend they weren't like Hugh, it seemed as if the trajectory they were on made it inevitable. The old man's gravity pulling them into the same orbit no matter how hard they tried to break free.
Noah drank his water and said nothing. Some conversations ended not because someone walked away but because both people arrived at the same wall and stood there looking at it.
Callie loadedthe last of Jake's boxes into the back of her truck and slammed the tailgate. Four boxes. Climbing gear, hiking equipment, a sleeping bag rated to twenty below that she'd bought him for his birthday a year ago. She'd taped them shut with more force than was necessary and written Jake's forwarding address in permanent marker across the top of each one. The handwriting was neat. The pressure of the pen was not.
