Jeff Abbott - Distant Blood

Hard, hard choice. But in the cold light of reason, not a choice at all.

Mutt breathed, not speaking. “You won't do this to your father. Not after you just found him.”

“Yes, I will. Because protecting him is the same as protecting the poisoner. I won't do it. I can't. He killed my child.” My actor's mask cracked on those words, and the hate and anger I felt glided through. Mutt saw the truth of it.

“Oh, God,” he moaned. The gun still dangled in his mutilated hand. I pointed at it.

“Are you going to shoot me? You can't kill me and explain it away with a dramatic suicide or poison left behind by a dead woman.”

He glanced at the gun, then at me. His hand shook.

“It's Philip.”

A chill prickled my skin. “So you say. Convince me.”

Mutt carefully placed the gun on the bar and his shoulders sagged. “He's obsessed with ruining me, with exacting revenge on me. And now he's screwing the entire family.”

“Tell me.”

“He-I let him manage some of my finances for a while. It was a tremendous mistake. He lost everything I entrusted him with. Fortunately, I was prudent in how much I let him handle.

“At first I thought it was simply bad management, poor investment choices. But it wasn't the stock market taking an unexpected dip. Philip stole the money.”

“I don't understand. Why didn't you report him-”

“He's blood. Blood counts to us. And I couldn't just turn in my nephew.”

“So you let him walk scot-free. And gave him a chance to steal from you again. With Wendy dipping her hand into the till, too.”

“No. Wendy's on my side. I suspected with my death practically being a circled day on Philip's calendar, he'd be after what money he could get out of me, 'cause there's nothing for him in my will.” He shook his head at my scowl. “So I got Wendy to approach him, pretend that she could land some of my money if he'd tell her what investments she ought to suggest to me. He fell for it, and I started to move my money around, just like tossing a ball to a dog so he don't chase a cat.”

“This is crazy. Why would he want to hurt Lolly? Or Aubrey?”

“Lolly committed suicide. I ain't telling you that again, boy.”

At that moment I feared him. Implacable anger limned his words. I still found his premise ridiculous, but the heat in his tone suggested Lolly, even if suicidal, was not the only unbalanced member of the family.

“Okay, say Lolly killed herself and her death has nothing to do with Philip. Then why would he try to kill Aubrey?”

“Codes of silence, remember? Say nothing?”

“Just tell me.”

“Aubrey ran away from Sass when he was a teenager. He went to Houston. He got involved in the drug trade, as a runner. He ain't real proud of those days.”

“Good God.” Aubrey, freely dispensing advice, trying to place a mental Band-Aid on the emotional wounds we dared to show. I wondered how much human wreckage he'd seen in his days of coke and roses.

“Philip was dealing drugs, trading a lot with the other stockbrokers in town, the lowlifes who thought they were big shits. Aubrey made a delivery to Philip, not knowing his own cousin was a dealer.”

“As things go, that's not so bad.”

“Perhaps.” Mutt didn't appear convinced. “But it gets worse. Aubrey found out Philip was dealing to Tom-his own brother. Tom was nearly dead from snorting coke. And Philip was still dealing it hard to him.”

My throat felt cold. “Feeding his own brother's addiction?”

“Yes. Philip's the most heartless animal on this planet.”

“Yet you're willing to protect him.”

Mutt shook his head. “Aubrey probably was going to write all about Philip in his new book. Philip was never arrested, never suspected as far as I know, of dealing drugs. He'd lose his business, his freedom, if this all came to light.”

Mutt turned to me, his arms open wide. “See? See how it has to be? I don't want this known. What's the point?”

“The point? How about making Philip pay for what he did?”

“When Aubrey finally broke free of that life, and went home to Sass-he told her about Tom. Sass called me, and I got Tom the hell away from Philip and got him into treatment. I done saved Tom's life, not that he's ever shown much gratitude.” He sniffled, and lightning flashed in the window like an explosion of light. I imagined a bolt piercing the bay's skin of water, burrowing into the murky depths like God's own finger.

“You're lying to me,” I said in a clear, calm voice.

“No”-he shook his head-”I'm not. God's truth, Jordan.”

“Then why do you even have Philip here? If he stole from you and he peddled dope to his own brother, why do you invite him?”

'Tom and Philip have made their peace. They're brothers again. That's probably why Tom and Aubrey have been so crossways, Aubrey trying to make life more difficult for Philip.” Mutt saw the disbelief in my eyes. He coughed. “Why do I have your father here, when he shot his own brother to death?”

“That's different!”

“No. No, it ain't. I have Philip here because this way I can keep an eye on him. And I can hope he changes his ways.”

“Aubrey and Candace are paying the price for your hope.”

He wouldn't look at me.

“You still think Lolly killed herself-after you saw Philip slipping that book about digitalis poisoning back on your shelf?”

“I didn't see that. You did.”

I still didn't believe him. The truth was near the skin of what he said, but he was holding back. “And how do you explain Brian's death?”

Mutt looked genuinely puzzled. “Brian? That was an accident.”

“Brian knew his father didn't commit suicide. And somehow, that proof came to Aubrey. Now what the hell does any of that have to do with Philip?”

“Brian drowned. He was just a kid, nobody would've wanted to hurt him,” Mutt said. His skin had gone snow pale and the corners of his mouth whitened as he frowned. “For God's sake, Jordan. I'm awful sorry about what happened to Candace. Philip's to blame, and that's all there is to it. Now I've told you, and you know now.” His voice grew low. “You deal with Philip as you want. There ain't no cause to be digging up the past. It's just gonna hurt your daddy more.”

I stood and walked past him. The gun still lay on the bar. I hefted it in my hand and turned so Mutt was clearly in the barrel's sights.

“I can believe some of what you say. Philip selling dope and stealing money, Tom letting drugs ruin his life, Aubrey running away from home. But you're only telling me a half-truth. It doesn't all fit together, Mutt, and that's not enough.”

He raised one eyebrow. “You going to shoot me?”

I ignored his question. “Do you think we're all idiots? Oh, no doubt Jake and Sass have kept their silence. When Paul vanished, I'm sure people thought it was for the best- the wife killer's taken his own life, he can't hurt anyone, his children don't have to bear the shame of a trial and such. Maybe even when Brian died, folks thought it a terrible accident. And when Lolly collapsed across the table, it was a little easier to say: she was nuts, she sent insane letters to me, she thought her dog was her husband reborn. So she had a heart attack or must've killed herself. Aren't you sick of the long list of lies?”

His eyes were stones. “I've told you truth.”

“Maybe half of it. That's the best lie to tell.” I cracked the magazine open; it wasn't loaded. “I see it's a specialty of yours.” I crossed to the phone and tried it again. Still dead.

The shut doors of the study rattled and Pop blustered in, fright in his face. My heart froze. “Candace?”

“She's the same. I think she's resting a little easier.” He glanced from Mutt to me. “What's going on here?”