“I don't know,” he muttered.
“You were in Lolly's room this morning. You took something out of Sweetie's bed. Was it Paul's jewelry? Is that where she'd hid it?”
“I don't know what you're talking about, Jordy-”
“You listen to me. If you don't tell me, it's over between us. I will walk away from here, and you'll never see me again. You will be out of my heart and out of my mind.” Words, fueled by grief and anger, poured from me like foulness from a suppurating wound. “I'll even leave Mirabeau. Candace and I will go and you'll never see us again. You tell me what's happening here.”
His entire face trembled. “Oh, God, I never wanted you to know. My brother-my bruh-bruh-” He wept then. He wept like a man possessed by a demon and then shown the face of God. We sank to the floor together in our embrace, his head turned away so I couldn't see his tears. Gretchen opened the door and stared at us. I shook my head at her and she retreated back into Candace's room.
I let him cry, then wiped his face with the bottom of my T-shirt. After his sobs subsided, he stared at the colorful patterns of the Persian rug on the floor. I cradled Pop's heavy jaw in my hands and turned his face to mine.
“I will still love you, no matter what you did,” I whispered. “No matter what. But this isn't going to continue. I'm not going to let whoever's behind this misery get away.” He tried to pivot his face away and I wrenched it back, squeezing hard. “Where does it end? My child will never be now. Candace and Aubrey may die. Lolly's already dead. You tell me who this is.”
“I honestly don't know. Honestly, believe me.” He blinked. “How did you know what I did?”
“Gretchen told me. She's known ever since Paul died.”
His blue eyes, bloodshot, widened. “She knew?”
“Yes. All these years, she knew. And she still loved you.”
He made an unintelligible sound.
“What happened that night? Tell me.”
“I-we were all here. Mutt was beside himself at the thought of a killer in our family. He was deeply worried about Deborah and Brian, how this would affect them. We had buried Nora here 'cause she had no people of her own. I didn't want to believe Paul had killed her. He and I hadn't gotten along since Gretchen divorced him and married me. I'd tried, but he wouldn't. I couldn't help but feel as though Nora's death was somehow my fault-if I'd gotten sense into Paul, or if I'd just stayed away from Gretchen-Nora never would have come into our family, never would have died.” He dragged the back of his hand across his face. “Nora was a fine woman, a good person. She didn't deserve to die like she did.”
“And you went to her grave that night?” I prompted.
He nodded miserably. “I don't know-maybe I just wanted to be alone, apologize to her for the mess I'd created in our lives.”
“What Paul did wasn't your fault, Pop. You're not responsible for his actions.”
He shook his head. “I felt like her blood was on my hands. I couldn't help but blame myself.” A shiver ran through him. “He was there, hiding behind one of the tombs. God, Jordan, the look on his face. Haggard and crazy. He'd stolen a boat from Port Lavaca and come to the other side of Sangre. He had a gun-said he and I had unfinished business. My brother, my own brother.” His voice faded and his eyes went distant with remembered grief. “But it wasn't Paul, it was some stranger in his skin.”
He took a fortifying breath. I squeezed his shoulders in support. “I told him to put the gun down, he and I could settle our differences with fists, like gentlemen. He laughed, kind of crazy like, said he couldn't do that. Had three bullets, he said-one for me, one for Gretchen, the last for himself. So he meant to kill himself, too.” He paused. “Not that it makes what I did no better.
“He told me to stand on Nora's grave. Said it was fitting, my blood could soak the ground where she lay. Said he'd kill Gretchen there, too, if he could. I did what he said. I'm so ashamed. I'd pissed my pants and I stank. Paul laughed at me and he raised the gun. I knew then he truly meant to shoot me.” He touched my jaw. “You know that fear, son, I know you do. We've both been there.”
“Yes,” I managed. “I know what it means to see in another person's eyes that they mean to kill you.”
“He leveled the gun at me. I was begging him not to, that we were brothers. He cocked the gun and I quit thinking-I just threw myself at him. He fired and missed. I felt the bullet go through my hair. I tackled him and we fought for the gun, and I got my hands on it and it went off and oh God there was so much blood and this smell of burned flesh-” The memories weighed too hard on him and he bowed his head.
“Pop,” I said.
“He was dead in my arms. He didn't say a word before he died. I dropped him and I ran back to the house. I was out of my mind. Uncle Jake and Sass caught me out on the porch and I told them what happened. Sass got Lolly and Mutt and told them. Aunt Lolly was hysterical that I'd go to jail, the terrible shame the family was already suffering would just get worse. So Uncle Mutt-he said we'd make it look like suicide. I forged the note. Mutt, Jake, and Lolly did away with the body-I don't even know where it is. Mutt just told me they'd taken care of it. The police accepted the story. And we all thought that was the end.” He sagged against the wall, exhausted now that his tale was told. A vein of lightning blasted the sky and its elfin light played along our faces from the hall's window. “One of them must've taken Paul's jewelry off of him.”
“I think it was hidden in Lolly's room, in Sweetie's bed. Wendy said she saw you there-”
He shook his head firmly. “Then she's lying. I never was in that room.”
I swallowed. “The murderer must be Sass, Mutt, or Jake, then.”
Pop coughed. Misery clouded his face. “But Gretchen found out. You found out. Maybe one of the other kids did, too. I mean, you said that's why Aubrey got poisoned, because he knew something.”
I closed my eyes. Aubrey's cold chatter during the family gathering, idly challenging: You know Tom's been roaming around the island with a shovel?
I hugged Pop close. “Thank you for trusting me. I love you.”
“Son-” he began, but I stood.
“I need to go check on Candace. And Aubrey.” I paused, my hand on the door.
Gretchen sat quietly by Candace, who slept. I watched the gentle rise of her breath and watched Gretchen's fingers laced with hers.
“She's sleeping,” Gretchen said, not looking at me. “She seems better. Deb may have saved her life.”
I went and kissed Candace's forehead. “Will you stay with her while I attend to some business?”
“What-where are you going?”
“I'm making sure no one else gets hurt, even if I have to blow this family apart to do it.” I touched Gretchen's shoulder. “Bob Don's going to be okay. He is.”
“I don't want him to get in trouble for what he did-” she began, and I pointed at Candace.
“See her? That's the price of secrecy in this family. The price of wronged pride. No more, Gretchen. You or I or Pop could be next.”
She gulped. “Yes, of course, I'll stay with her. I'll take good care of her, Jordy.”
“I know you will. Thank you.” I gave Candace a final look before I shut the door behind me.
I went downstairs to Aubrey's room. Deborah stood outside, testing the hallway phone. She slammed it down in disgust.
“Phone still dead?” I asked.
“Yes. Goddamned storm. Goddamned island.” She rubbed her eyes with her hands.
“How's Aubrey?”
“Holding on. He's not conscious and his vomiting has stopped. But his heart rate's slow, and I don't have anything to give him for it.”
“Was it digitalis, like Lolly?”
“I don't know. Some of the symptoms are similar-the vomiting, the clammy skin, the delirium. But I don't think either of them got a dose the size of Lolly's.”
I didn't speak.
“I can't be sure what they were given.” Deborah leaned against the wall. “I need to check on Candace.”
“She's sleeping, and she seems to be resting better. Gretchen's with her.” I took Deb's cold hand in mine. “You've saved her life. Thank you.”
