Speak No Evil

weeks ago because they’d had an argument.”

Carina nodded. “A restraining order that your brother repeatedly violated, including the night Angie Vance disappeared.”

“What about her current boyfriend?” asked Nick.

“He’s out of town and we have a BOLO on him.”

Nick raised his eyebrow. “Her current boyfriend has conveniently left town? Before or after the murder?”

“I can’t discuss the details of the investigation with you, Sheriff. I’m talking to you as a law enforcement courtesy, but you have no authority here.” While her tone was cordial, she was trying to shut the investigative door in his face.

Okay, play nice and she’ll give up more, Nick thought. “What happened to the victim? Steve didn’t know the details.”

Carina mumbled something, sounded like a sarcastic that’s what he says in Spanish, but she spoke so fast Nick wasn’t quite sure he caught every word. But the tone and attitude were clear: she believed his brother was guilty.

“The victim was raped and suffocated in a triple layering of garbage bags, then left on a public beach. She was found early yesterday morning.”

Raped.

Nick pushed back the memories that threatened to return. They usually stayed at bay until he was alone, but the faint echo of a scream reverberated in his head. He was acutely aware of Carina watching him. He swallowed and said, “Any similar crimes?”

She stared at him. “I know how to do my job, Sheriff.”

“I wasn’t implying that you didn’t. I was just asking a question.”

She paused, assessing him. Whatever she saw, she must have deemed him trustworthy enough to share some tidbits. “Nothing in the area, but we’ve tapped into the FBI database to see if there’s a hit. I’m covering all the bases. I’m going to catch Angie’s killer.”

“Was there any unusual damage to the victim’s body? Something not related to her manner of death or rape? Something that might point to a repeat offender?”

“You’re suggesting serial killer.”

He gave a short nod.

She looked like she wanted to say more but stopped herself. “We’re looking into all possibilities, like I said.”

So there was something else. Probably a very specific mutilation, perhaps a message on or near the body. Something that only the killer would know about.

Nick assessed Carina Kincaid as a competent, focused detective who wanted to catch the killer because that was her job. Maybe if he understood her better, learned why she’d become a cop, if he could get her to trust him. Perhaps they could find a way to work together.

Some cops did it for the job, some for the power, but more often than not, Nick had learned that most people became cops for one of two reasons: family on the job, or because they had a personal reason for seeking justice.

Carina’s partner exited Steve’s apartment and walked over to them.

“We got what we need?” Carina asked.

“More or less,” Hooper said. “Patrick’s in there writing out a tag so we can take the computer.”

Nick’s instincts buzzed. “Why?”

“We need to spend more time on the machine. To verify your brother’s statement.”

They wouldn’t take the machine unless they’d found something either incriminating or that contradicted what Steve had told them earlier.

“You don’t have a warrant,” Nick said cautiously. The best avenue would be to befriend the detectives; barring that, he had to protect his brother.

But so help him, if Steve was guilty…no. He wasn’t a rapist. Not the kid who cried over a dying dog. Not the man who earned two congressional medals during Desert Storm. His brother, who’d always been there for Nick growing up, protected him against bullies because he’d been a runt until he hit puberty.

“Are you going to make this difficult? We can get a warrant,” Carina said. “Your brother is cooperating because he says he wants to help.”

“I want information.”

“You are not only out of your jurisdiction, you are related to our prime-” she caught herself, “a potential witness.”

“I have experience in these types of cases,” Nick said.

“What type would that be?”

“Serial killers.”

Hooper interjected, “I think it’s in the best interest of your brother that we do everything by the book.”

“It’s in the best interest of justice to do everything to stop this killer,” Nick said. “I know my brother and he’s not a rapist.”

They assessed him, skeptical. Neither trusted him, but what did he expect?

“If Steve is guilty,” he said, “I’ll be the one to throw away the key. Blood is thick, but not thick enough to protect a killer.”

Carina said, “I’d suggest that you find out exactly what your brother was doing every minute of Friday night and early Saturday morning, and find out exactly what he read on Angie’s Vance’s not-so- anonymous online journal. Maybe if we get the truth, we can stop wasting time looking at him.

“But,” she continued, “your brother hasn’t been completely honest with us, and that only adds to our suspicions.”

“I’ll find the truth.”

“And if you don’t like it?”

“You can arrest him.”

NINE

NICK FOUND STEVE sitting on the beach watching the waves come in.

It was late afternoon, but it was still warm enough that they didn’t need jackets. Unlike Montana in February, Nick thought. There was snow on the ground, and when he’d left this morning it had been clear and forty degrees, though they were expecting another storm to hit by tomorrow.

Steve had told Nick he hated the snow and rain. He’d settled in San Diego when he went on disability because of the weather and the proximity to other veterans-San Diego County had one of the largest veteran communities in the country. Steve felt more at home here than anywhere else.

There was something sad about that. Nick and Steve had each settled in a place they felt was home, but without a family to make it home.

They sat side by side without talking as the minutes ticked by. Nick hadn’t been to the coast since the last time he’d visited Steve. He found the rhythm of the ocean soothing, comforting. The anger he had walked across the sand with-anger at his brother for the situation and at himself for considering that Steve might be guilty- dissipated.

“What’d they take?”

“Your computer.”

“They were there a long time.”

“You told them they could search your apartment.”

“And see? They didn’t find anything because I’m innocent.”

Steve jumped up and started walking down the beach. Nick followed him.

“She was raped,” he said.

“Shit.” Steve paused in stride. “I didn’t do it, Nick. You have to believe me.”