appetite wane. Lauren took a breath and exhaled. “Why did you ask me here?”
“I told you earlier, to find out some background about your brother.”
She shook her head. “You say that, but I feel like there’s something more.”
“What are you — psychic?”
“Are you confirming my feeling?”
Curran looked at her. “I'm not the enemy here, Ms. Fields.”
“Lauren.”
He smiled. She shrugged. “Seems only fair if I have to call you Steve.”
Curran folded his white linen napkin on his lap. “I’m just a cop trying to figure this whole thing out.”
“Figure what out: my brother's killer or me?”
Curran smiled. “Yes.”
She tried to hide the small grin. “At least you're honest.”
“So?”
She sighed. “There's not a lot to tell. My brother was the only real family I had left. Our parents died a number of years ago.”
“But you don’t seem all that broken up about his death. You said yourself this morning that he caused a lot of heart ache.”
Heartache. If only it had been that and nothing else. If only he’d only caused a fraction of the horror he’d wrought. She sipped some water. “My brother was a complete piece of garbage for the majority of his life.”
“I think we’ve got most of it in his jacket down at headquarters.”
Her stomach churned again. You don’t know any of it, she wanted to say. Nothing! She wanted to yell and cry and vomit then. Even after so many years, the pain could still surge without warning.
“Are you all right?”
She took another sip of water. It slid down her throat, cold against the rising heat within. She felt flushed and wondered if Curran could see the turmoil coursing throughout her. He seemed astute enough.
“I’m fine.”
Curran’s eyebrows waggled a bit but he went back to studying the menu. She felt better with his eyes not boring into her.
“You’re not being entirely up front with me, Lauren.”
“There may be some things I’m not ready to share.”
He looked up again. “Even if they help me catch this killer? Even if they help save the life of another person?”
“It’s not that easy.”
He nodded. “I’ve seen a lot of miserable crap in my life. I know not everything is as it seems on the surface.”
That was the problem. On the surface, Lauren could keep everything calm. But deep down inside she knew the death of her brother would haunt her for years. Just as he had in life.
“I don’t see how what I could tell you would help you catch this killer. And it’s probably better that I don’t.”
Curran set his menu down and stared at her again. She could see his eyes soften, almost like his pupils had expanded. Darkened. They drew her in. She found her breathing relaxing. She felt her shoulders loosen.
“Whenever you want to tell me, that will be fine.”
Even his voice had softened. Deepened. It almost seemed to resonate within her. She felt the heat dissipating.
The waiter came by and Curran gave the order all the while still looking into her eyes. When the waiter disappeared again, Curran broke the eye contact and took a sip of his water.
“Are you all right now?”
Lauren smiled. “Fine. Thank you.”
Curran grinned. “For what?”
“Whatever you just did there. I felt like I was being relaxed. Almost hypnotized.”
“Oh that.”
“Yes. That.”
“You wouldn’t believe the things you pick up being a cop. I learned that from a psychologist one time. I probably shouldn’t have done it with you, but you looked so concerned — no, terrified. I figured it wouldn’t hurt if I took you down a notch.”
Lauren nodded. “It worked quite well.”
“You feel like talking any now?”
“Do we have to?”
“No. We don’t have to do anything except eat. But it would help me out an awful lot if I knew something more about your brother. Especially since I can see there’s plenty that didn’t show up in his file.”
She sighed. Would it ever get easier? Would it ever go away entirely? There was only way to find out.
“You know all about how he started breaking into homes, right?”
Curran nodded. “Sure.”
“And then he worked his way up to stealing cars. He used to get into fights a lot, too.”
“Assault. Yeah, I saw plenty of that in the jacket.”
“Was he suspected of murder?”
“Couple of times. Nothing ever stuck to him. Especially since he got involved in organized crime back in the late 80’s.”
“He killed easily enough, my brother did.” Lauren closed her eyes for a moment, trying to shut out the images of her brother covered in blood coming back one night.
Curran’s voice was a whisper. “What else, Lauren?”
Lauren looked down. Her eyes felt moist. Hot. Her throat closed. She clutched the napkin under the table. Twisting it into knots.
“Have you ever done any reading on the criminal mind?”
Curran nodded. “Most of us cops have.”
“Then you probably know that the experts always say that criminals — the really deviant ones — don’t start out as horrible as they eventually become. They start small at first.”
“An experimentation stage, in other words.”
“Exactly. Experimentation.” The word made her shudder.
The hot and sour soup arrived. Lauren didn’t look at it. Neither did Curran.
“Go on.”
“In order for a creature of habit to become that, he first needs to find a habit he enjoys. Do you follow me?”
“I don’t really know.”
She looked at him. “Evil doesn’t exist solely on its own, Steve. It can’t exist without being nurtured. An evil act cannot stand on its own; it needs roots. It needs time to grow.”
“You’re likening this to a seed.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. My brother didn’t become a monster overnight. He didn’t even become a monster just in the pages of whatever file you have on him down at the police station.” She took a deep breath. “He started a long time ago. Ages before he came to the attention of the police.” She turned away. “He started in the shadows and the whispers of dark scary nights when no one else was around. No one…but me.”
Curran cleared his throat. “Lauren-”
“No. Don’t stop me, Steve. Please.”
“We don’t need to talk about this now. Not here.”
“If not now then when? I’ve kept things to myself for too long.” She smiled around the tears that dribbled out of her eyes. “Believe me, I walked the path of the victim for years. It's a stupid waste of time. Far better to make peace with the past you can't change and forge ahead into the future. That's become my mantra of sorts.”
“That's a tough path to walk alone.”
“It’s the toughest thing I’ve ever done.” She sat silent for a minute before looking at the soup. The swirling
