“One, to keep Lucky from finding a way to interfere with this case—”
“Hey! Wait a darned minute.” It’d been Lucky’s case. Well, sorta. Being the victim counted, right?
Bo glared Lucky’s way. “What’s two?”
“I’m expecting word that Bristol Lucklighter has been taken into custody, and I believed this news best shared in person. After all, he is Lucky’s brother.” Walter patted the only dog in the neighborhood built in perfect proportion to his mass. “I also wanted to visit Moose. My wife and I became quite attached while he stayed with us.”
Chiming sounded from the vicinity of Walter’s pants pocket, and he dug his cell phone out. “Walter Smith. Yes.” He eyed Lucky. Every bit of expression disappeared from his face. “Oh, I understand. No one else was involved?” Silence followed. “Yes, please do.”
He hung up the phone, lips pursed. After a moment he rose, crossed the distance to the couch, and sank down beside Lucky.
“He got away, didn’t he?” Lucky should’ve been there. Should’ve taken matters into his own hands.
Walter placed his hand on Lucky’s. “No, he didn’t.”
“Then what?” Why all the dramatics to say Bristol got arrested?
“Officers knocked on his door to serve the warrant. There was no answer. They found the backdoor open, and your brother… well, they found your brother in the basement.”
“And?”
“Lucky, I’m afraid your brother is dead.”
What the hell? “How?” Surely Lucky hadn’t woke up yet. This must be a dream. A horrible fucking dream. He didn’t like Bristol, but he’d never wanted him dead.
“That’s for the coroner to decide. Suicide hasn’t been ruled out, nor has homicide. There are reasons to believe he didn’t die of natural causes.” Walter patted Lucky’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why? Why don’t they think natural causes?” Bristol, three years younger than Lucky. Too young to die.
“I wasn’t given full details. You heard a bit of the conversation.”
Maybe boss told the truth, maybe he lied. Either way, nothing anyone said or did would change a thing.
***
Who smacked him upside the head with a two by four? Lucky’s head spun. Mama. He should call Mama. And Charlotte. Make sure they were okay. But… They were home with Daddy, and Dad didn’t know about Lucky living and breathing yet. And until the coroner’s report came back, they might still be facing a homicide. Who’d want to kill Bristol? Was the rest of the family in danger? Fuck. Trust Walter to come in here, drop a bomb, then stroll back out. No, not fair. Boss man hadn’t known about Bristol’s death when he arrived.
“Look, Lucky. I’m sorry about your brother.” Bo took the spot recently vacated by Walter and pulled Lucky toward him.
“I’m not sure if I am or not. This is so fucked up.”
Bo nodded. “I know. And it’s a lot to take in. But I’m here if you need to talk.”
Talk. The last thing Lucky wanted right now. Maybe doing something normal might calm Lucky down. “C’mon, let’s get a bath.”
Bo secured Lucky in a tighter embrace. “I’m not dirty.”
“I can fix that.”
Bo’s resigned sigh had to be a good thing, right? “Okay. A bath, nothing more.”
Spoilsport.
Bo fished their underwear out from under the couch and stepped toward the hallway. Lucky stopped him. “I’ll start the water.”
Bo froze midmotion. “Why?”
“Why what?”
