Page 28 of Brother's Keeper

Vesper’s red lips curved into a wicked grin. “Maybe.”

She pushed the Emergency Stop button again, and the elevator jolted into motion. As it descended, she crouched and set her briefcase on the floor. Spinning the combination locks, she hinged the lid open and fished inside. The stretch of dark fabric she produced was quickly recognizable.

“You left this in the interrogation room.” She tossed the wadded jacket for me to catch. “I found it after they dragged your bloody ass out.”

The garment hit my chest, and I gathered it up,hoping to keep anything incriminating from falling out.

“I like the new look, though. Very sharp.” Vesper nodded to me as she closed the briefcase and stood.

I glanced down at the suit, gray and white pinstripe that spoke to Nash’s love of pattern. I grinned at the thought. “Thanks, my… friend got it for me.”

Vesper swayed back, laughing. “You have friends who buy you suits? Where can I get one of those?”

Having the missing coat and guestbook pages in my hands put me at ease. The smile lingered on my face as the elevator opened to the parking garage and new passengers boarded. Vesper and I stepped apart to make space for the two women chatting shrilly and paying us no mind.

We rode back up, then went our separate ways. I needed to dig through the suit coat and get the papers before they slipped away from me again. I had a lighter in my pocket and planned to set them ablaze, which required not only a private space, but one without a smoke detector. The bathroom, of course.

Clutching the suit coat to my chest, I scurried through the halls, headed toward the single-stall bathroom near the accounting department.

I was nearly there, rounding the last corner, when an imposing figure stepped into my path. Chief Investigator Briggs, a man I knew better as my father’s old partner, stood before me.

Since our courtroom encounter, I’d only caught glimpses of him in passing. Glances were exchanged at range, and we took turns taking detours in a not-so-subtle game of avoidance. This time, though, I nearlycollided with him, and neither of us retreated. Me because I needed to get to that bathroom, the door of which I could see over his shoulder. Him because…

“I catch a chill every time I see you in this place,” Briggs said. “Like a ghost haunting the halls.”

I didn’t know what to say in response, so I held his gaze, studying him at close range for the first time in twelve long years.

He had aged since my childhood—not a given in magical society. Gray hair sprouted from his widow’s peaks, and wrinkles crowded between his eyebrows. The lack of laugh lines felt like a quiet tragedy.

“I’ll admit I’ve been keeping my distance.” When Briggs frowned, the lines carved deeper into his face. “I wasn’t sure how I felt about the… arrangement Maximus made with you.”

“Me neither,” I admitted.

He nodded, and his pale blue eyes darted away. “Well, it seems you’re here to stay. Some kind of miracle.”

Briggs had always been a somber sort, in contrast to my carefree and occasionally mischievous father. They made an odd pair. Any time Briggs came around, my father spent his energy teasing a smile out of the stoic man. Dinners and weekend visits began with Briggs discussing the latest case or Capitol drama and ended with him laughing along to my father’s comedy repertoire.

Occasionally, Briggs broke out a few jokes of his own or took a break from his all-business persona to play games with Donovan and me. He was a pyromancer, oneof the flashiest brands of magic and one often given to those with hot tempers and short fuses. Briggs was controlled, though. Almost brutally so. He had the kind of composure that seemed synonymous with Capitol hierarchy. Maximus had the same frigid disposition. Holland, too.

“You understand my trepidation,” Briggs continued. “This isn’t the first time Maximus has enlisted the aid of criminals to further his agenda.”

If I’d wondered where he slotted me in his mind, that made it perfectly clear. Gone was his former partner’s son; I was a criminal now. Time had changed us both.

The meaning of his words took longer to register. Was the consultancy not the “arrangement” he referred to? Did he know about the voter murder plot?

Office workers passed by, and Briggs waited for them to leave earshot before speaking again. “I hope Maximus has learned from his mistakes. You can only hold a tiger by its tail for so long without getting bit.” He looked around as though ensuring no one else would approach, then lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “I only wish Maximus himself had suffered for his misjudgment. Not your family.”

To speak ill of Maximus Lyle in what might as well have been his castle took a kind of moxie I could respect. But why blame Maximus for my parents’ murders? The Bloody Hex killed them. That had never been a question.

“The way I see it, you’re owed this second chance.” Briggs leaned back. “So, I don’t begrudge you the opportunity. Nor do I blame Maximus for attempting to ease the weight of his guilt.” As he looked me over, painpinched his eyes. “I would do anything to ease mine.”

I continued to stand dumbstruck while clutching the suit coat.

Briggs clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Regardless, it’s good to see you, Fitch.”

He stepped around me and walked away, gone so quickly he couldn’t have heard my delayed response.

“You, too.”

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