Page 34 of Stay in Your Lane!

Colin eyed me. Then he noticed Everett standing in the hallway, still holding Jeff. “Uh. Hi?”

“Hi.” Everett shifted Jeff onto his hip, then extended his hand. “Everett Mulligan.”

As they shook hands, Colin’s brow furrowed. “Mulligan? Like… the funeral home?”

“Yep.” Everett nodded toward me. “That’s how we met!”

Well, it wasn’t the smoothest segue, but it got the job done.

“Let’s sit down.” I didn’t bother offering coffee; Colin was probably on his nineteenth cup by now, and he’d have brought it in from the car with him if he needed it.

On the way into the living room, Colin gave the aquarium a wide berth. Unlike Everett, he was the opposite of fascinated by my fish, and it had only taken Steve charging the glass one time to make Colin keep a few feet between him and the tank.

As we settled onto the couch, I said, “So, to cut right to the chase, we”—I gestured at Everett—“have been looking into a death.”

My brother’s eyes went wide. “You two?” He looked back and forth between us. “In what capacity?”

“In the capacity of two guys who think the cops are covering up a murder,” Everett said bluntly.

I closed my eyes and sighed. So much for keeping this non-confrontational. When I looked at Colin again, he was staring at Everett like he hadn’t heard him right. He wasn’t angry yet, but we needed to tread lightly if we wanted his help.

I put a hand on Everett’s forearm, hoping he took it as a suggestion to chill. Then I told Colin, “Did you hear about Rick Leighton?”

From the twitch of his jaw, he had. “Yeah. Offed himself last—wait, what do you mean you two are looking into his death? It was a suicide.” There was a sudden edge to his voice. A note of warning. “It was asuicide, Kyle.”

“I don’t think it was.” I kept my hand firmly on Everett’s arm, giving it a subtle squeeze and silently pleading with him to follow my lead. “We both went to the scene. He was there to remove the body. I was there to do my thing. And we both saw things that don’t add up to a suicide.”

Colin’s eyes flicked back and forth between us. With obvious unease, he asked, “Like what?”

I explained everything we’d found, and we both showed him the photos we’d taken at the scene. I also told him about the conclusions we’d come to with the shoes, and that we’d talked to people connected to Rick. “I don’t want to name names, okay? There are people in his circle who are concerned, too, and they don’t want their names on this.”

Colin sat back in his chair and wiped a hand over his face. For a long moment, he was silent, his expression contemplative and his gaze fixed on the fish tank.

When he faced us again, some heavy fatigue—resignation, maybe?—had entered the chat. “Kyle. Listen.” He shook his head slowly. “This isnota thread you want to be pulling.”

Beside me, Everett went bolt upright. Before I could stop him, he asked, “Why the fuck not? This guy was murdered, and the cops are pretending he was?—”

“Because it’s not a thread you should be pulling,” Colin snapped, switching on his cop voice. “You don’t know what you’re up against.”

Everett’s lips parted. He had that dumbfounded look he sometimes got, but there was an edge of righteous fury to it that was—despite how much I didn’t want this conversation to escalate into a shouting match—alarmingly attractive.

“What does that even mean?” he demanded. “I know cops like to cover for cops, but this guy was murdered and?—”

“It’s not that simple,” Colin growled. “Look, I’ll be the first to tell you there are some unscrupulous cops on the force, and that they’ve done shit and covered up other shit I don’t agree with. I’m on your side here, okay?” He shifted a little. “But this is the kind of shit that could get the two ofyoukilled, too.”

“So you do think there’s something to it?” I asked. “That people are trying to cover up?—”

“I think Chief Daniels’s daughter’s boyfriend is dead, and I’m not sure if it was or wasn’t murder. But it if is, then I really don’t want my little brother at odds with someone who orchestrated, committed, and covered up that murder.” He stared at me as if to ask,“Is that clear enough? Or do I need to break out the crayons?”

Everett tensed, his jaw working. “So, what? We should just leave it be? Because your buddies might kill us to shut us up and you’re okay with that?”

Oh God. This was a mistake. I should’ve talked to Colin alone.

My brother took in a deep breath through his nose and narrowed his eyes at Everett. “I’m not okay with any of it. What I’m saying is that the best-case scenario is that Rick Leighton died by suicide. If you two are right and hewasactually murdered and someoneiscovering that up—especially if they’ve got multiple people covering it up, which they wouldhaveto—then I can guarantee they’re not above killingmorepeople to keep that secret. Including the two of you.”

Everett and I exchanged looks, and I could feel the aggravation radiating off him.

I gave his arm another squeeze before turning back to Colin. “We can’t just leave this alone. The guy’s got a kid, for God’s sake.”

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