"Then you're in the way."
Noah put out a hand. "Liam. Listen to me. I know who you're here for. And I know why."
Something shifted in Liam's face. A faint narrowing of the eyes. He had spent months being invisible. And now he was being seen.
"You don't understand," Liam said.
"I'm the only one who does."
Liam looked at the study door. Then back at Noah. Then he walked forward.
Noah didn't move. He held his ground. He remained in the corridor and watched his half-brother approach, step by step, the rifle at his side, the calm on his face unbroken. Noah had no weapon. He had no way to stop what was coming. Any sudden movement and Liam could raise that rifle and fire before Noah could close the distance.
When Liam was close enough, he stopped.
"I've been waiting for this day since my mother's murder," he said. "Get out of my way. You're not going to stop it."
"Listen to me, you're not thinking straight. I can explain."
Before Noah could say anymore, Liam shifted the rifle to one hand, pulled a Taser with the other, and fired. The volts hit Noah in the chest and sent him down. He thrashed on the floor, his muscles locking. Liam stepped past him and pushed open the study door.
Noah lay in the corridor, his body convulsing. Through the doorway he could see the room. The stone walls. A massive desk at the far end. Bookshelves. A fireplace with a cold grate. Two leather chairs. A window behind the desk that looked out over water and forest.
Hugh was standing in front of the desk with a folder in his hand. Luther was behind the desk, seated, a glass of something amber near his elbow.
Both men looked toward the door.
Hugh saw Noah first. Then his eyes moved past him to Liam with a rifle.
The folder trembled in Hugh's hand. He saw the face and he knew what it meant and the color drained from his skin.
Luther's eyes flicked to Liam, then to the rifle, then to the desk drawer. A half-second glance. Calculating. Then his gaze came back to the room.
Liam raised the rifle. The muzzle came up in a single fluid motion and settled on Hugh's chest. Rock steady. The hands that had sent four rounds through four people were perfectly still. "You are going to tell me everything.”
Liam stood inside the doorway.The muzzle didn't waver. Ten years of grief and unanswered questions held in the space between the trigger and the man at the other end of the barrel.
“Don’t lie to me,” Liam said.
Hugh didn't speak. The folder was still in his hand but it was forgotten now, hanging at his side. He was looking at Liam with something between recognition and dread. His face was gray. His breathing was shallow. But he didn't step back.
Luther was still behind the desk. Seated. His hand had moved away from the glass. His eyes were on the rifle.
In the corridor, Noah pulled the probes from his chest. His hands were shaking. His muscles burned. He got to his feet, bracing against the wall, and moved into the doorway.
Noah stepped forward. Slowly. Hands visible.
"Liam. Put the gun down."
Liam didn't look at him. "I told you to stay out of this."
"He didn't kill your mother."
"His truck was there. I saw the footage. I traced the decal. Saranac Lake Motors. The truck was registered to him." Liam'svoice was controlled but the edges were fraying. "He was there that night. He was at the house."
"He was there earlier in the evening. He left before Travis Rudd arrived. He didn't know what was going to happen."
"You're lying."
