Page 57 of July 27

Going down the hallway, she opened her bedroom door. There were still clothes in the closet and knickknacks she had accumulated throughout the years, but none of it meant anything to her. The bed was old and lumpy. The mattress and boxspring sat on the floor because, years ago, the frame had busted.

Sirens invaded her memories. She left the room and found Corbin peering behind the curtain out the window.

It wasn't unusual to have cops in the neighborhood. They lived in the poorer section of Offshore.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Corbin let the curtain fall in place. "I think they're coming here."

"Why?" She walked over to the window.

Corbin stepped in front of her, keeping her from looking out. "We need to get out of here."

"I haven't done anything." She pushed him, trying to get him out of her way. "They're probably going to the neighbors. The kid that lives there is always going to juvie."

"Nah." Corbin raced around the room, looking under the couch cushions and the drawer in the stand holding the television. "Come on. Come on."

"What are you looking for?" She stepped toward the window and looked out.

The police were getting out of the patrol cars. Her adrenaline spiked. They were parked behind Shady's car.

"God damnit, where would he put it?" Corbin raced down the hallway.

She had no idea what Corbin was looking for but assumed it was the rest of the drugs that Steven had smuggled in his coat.

She looked back outside. Shit.

The police were coming up the walkway. She went to the entrance of the hallway. "Corbin?"

Going to her brother's bedroom, she opened the door. His bedroom window was open. Corbin had run, leaving her alone to deal with the cops.

Bang. Bang. Bang. "Open the door. This is the Offshore police."

She had no idea what was in the house. Shady and his friends could have anything that could earn them a dollar, and she could guarantee it either wasn't legal or it was hot.

Going to the front door, she inhaled deeply. She knew the rules. The police needed a search warrant to come inside.

Bang. Bang.

She flipped the lock and opened the door, squeezing through the small opening she'd made and closing it behind her. "What happened?"

She needed to put them on the defense. Regular, law-abiding citizens would first panic that a loved one was killed in an accident.

The closest officer kept his hand on the butt of the pistol in his holster. "We're looking for Jeremy Silverstone. Is he here?"

"Jeremy?" She cupped the front of her neck. "He's my brother. He's working on one of the fishing ships. He's not supposed to be back until the end of Aug—oh, my God. Did something happen to him?"

The lies spilled out of her. How many had she told the police over the years in an attempt to protect her father and now her brother? She sniffed, pretending to cry. She was fuming. She'd give him a piece of her mind the next time she saw him.

"Miss, we need to find your brother." He took out a small notepad. "What's the name of the ship?"

"Oh, God." She shook her head. "I don't know."

"When did he leave?"

"I-I don't know." She inhaled deeply. "Are you sure he's okay? He didn't get hurt? I told him fishing boats are dangerous, and he wouldn't listen. He's not the strongest swimmer."

She was going to shake him. He was stupid for getting into trouble soon after just getting out of prison.

---