Page 81 of Long Gone

“He is.”

“Do you see him very often?”

“No.” The word was short and deep. His gaze darkened, cluing me in that I’d breached territory he wasn’t willing to delve into.

“Is he older or younger?” I asked, trying a different angle.

“Younger.”

“You must really care about him if you named your bar after him.”

He took a sip of his coffee, then lowered the mug, surprising me when he said, “I’ve tried my best to protect him his entire life. Sometimes I was successful, other times I caused him great pain.” A shadow crossed over his face as he stared down at the coffee in his mug. “It seemed fitting somehow.”

I wasn’t sure how naming the tavern after his brother whom he’d protected and hurt made sense, but I knew better than to ask.

“Is he your only brother?”

He swallowed, his grip tightening on the mug. “Not all brothers are blood-related.”

So there was at least one other person, not blood-related, who was like a brother to him. I considered pressing him on that too, but decided it was probably a landmine—one wrong step and the whole conversation would be blown to bits.

“I only had one sister,” I said, then took a sip. “But then you knew that. And after Andi… well, it messed me up pretty good. I never let anyone get close to me after that.”

“Not even a boyfriend?”

I thought about the string of relationships I’d had since college—all superficial. Some men hadn’t cared, their own emotional maturity too shallow for them to want much themselves. Others had broken up with me because they’d claimed I was too married to my job, which was funny since I’d eventually settled into a relationship with Keith. But that had been superficial too, a convenient release for my sexual needs. We’d discussed cases, not feelings. I’d never loved him, never loved anyone actually. I was pretty sure I was incapable of it. Self-loathing followed that thought, reminding me it didn’t really matter since I wasn’t worthy of love. Not when Andi would never have any.

The hunger for a drink wasn’t a surprise, but the strength of the need stole my breath for a moment. Pain and humiliation crashed through my head and unshed tears burned my eyes.

Why had I lived and not her? That was the question that had dogged me ever since the day that man had taken her. It would always dog me. I’d comforted myself with the knowledge that my career made a difference. I’d helped people. I’d found justice for the wronged.

Now I was pretending I hadn’t found a dead man, preventing his not-so-truthful wife from collecting his life insurance.

No, I was keeping it a secret so I had more time to find justice for Anton and his sister. Hugo Burton may have been a deceitful businessman, but he’d been an amazing father. His kids deserved to know that he was not only dead, but who had taken him from them. Sure, I was hired to prove him dead, but Malcolm was right. That wasn’t enough for me.

Malcolm was still watching me, and I realized I hadn’t answered his question. “I mean,” he said. “You asked if I have a girlfriend. It seems only fair.”

“No one,” I said, “and you didn’t exactly answer that question.”

When he didn’t offer up more information, I added, “I think you and I are a lot alike. Neither of us let people get close.”

He pursed his lips and surprised the hell out of me. “I have in the past, but it’s always ended badly, so I’ve found it’s better to keep people at arm’s length.”

The man who had been like a brother had clearly been one of those people, but I knew better than to ask if I was right. Had one of the others been a woman? Surely he’d had at least one meaningful relationship in his life. Probably when he was younger and less jaded.

“You gonna date Nate the bookseller?” Malcolm asked.

I laughed. “Why do you care?”

He shrugged, keeping his gaze on me. “I don’t, but he seems like a waste of time. He’s not enough for you.”

He was right. I couldn’t live with a normal man and have a normal life. I had too many demons to live that life authentically, and pretending would kill me.

I lifted my own mug. “I already came to that conclusion on my own, thank you very much. I’ve seen too much, and he’s…”

“An innocent.”

I shrugged. “Not the word I would have chosen. I would have likely gone with naïve, but same difference.” I took a bite of my muffin. “So no girlfriends?”

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