Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [121]
Carina nodded. The office was adjacent to the kitchen. “How much?”
“Saturday night’s take. Over three thousand. I—I went home with Maggie instead of the bank. No one knows.”
“Except Brandon.”
Kyle nodded soberly.
“Help get everyone out,” she began when Kyle’s phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID. “It’s the Shack number.”
Brandon, most likely calling from the office. Carina moved Kyle over to the front door, where she could watch the staff and keep an eye on Kyle while listening to the conversation. She nodded for him to answer.
“Hi,” Kyle said into the receiver.
“It’s me,” Brandon said.
“What’s up?”
“I’m sorry, Kyle.”
“Sorry about what?”
“You’ll know when you get to work tomorrow. I just wanted to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye? Where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you. But . . . ” he paused, his voice low. “I think Dad is around. I’m going to find him.”
“What?”
Carina put her finger to her lips. Shhh.
“Why are you mad?” Brandon asked Kyle.
“Why do you think he’s in San Diego?”
“Because the police were asking about him.”
“Don’t go looking for him, Brandon. Why don’t you come over to my house? We can kick back, talk about Dad.”
“No. You don’t like him. You never have. You’re just going to try to tell me to forget about him like you always do.”
“That’s not true.”
“What?” Brandon’s voice was muffled and in the background of the phone Carina heard a female voice murmuring.
Then Brandon hung up.
THIRTY-FOUR
BRANDON STARED AT THE WAITRESS. Denise.
“Kyle’s here?” he repeated.
“He just walked in with that detective who was asking all those questions about Angie’s murder.”
Al, the weekend cook, called out an order. “Denise! Pickup.”
“Got to get that. See you later.” She grabbed the food from under the heat lamps and started for the swinging doors.
Kyle was here in the restaurant. With a cop. Brandon replayed his conversation with Kyle on the phone.
Come over to my place.
Kyle’s cell phone had caller ID. He knew Brandon was calling from the Shack. He didn’t say anything about being here, too.
Another waitress popped her head into the kitchen as Denise exited. “Watch it, Sherry. You almost knocked over my tray.”
“Put it down, Kyle says there’s a gas leak and we have to get out.”
“Gas leak?” Al said, quickly shutting off all the burners. “Are you sure?”
Sherry shrugged. “That’s what he said.”
Brandon stayed in Kyle’s small office so Sherry couldn’t see him. Heart pounding, he watched as Al and Denise exited the kitchen.
Why was Kyle with that cop? Why didn’t he tell Brandon he was here? Had the police figured something out? But he’d covered his tracks so well. Hadn’t he?
He was alone in the kitchen. Being alone was dangerous, he realized. He left the office and glanced through the half-open blinds next to the storage room. A cop stood half behind a tree with his eyes trained on the kitchen door.
Brandon quickly got out of sight.
Being alone was definitely dangerous. He should have called Denise back. Something.
He fingered the gun in his windbreaker pocket as he crossed the kitchen and peered through the swinging door window into the hallway. Beyond the hall he saw customers leaving the the restaurant. Food still on the tables. Everyone leaving at once.
Kyle had betrayed him.
He didn’t know how the police had figured everything out, but somehow Kyle was part of it. His own brother. Of all people who should have understood, but instead he was one of them.
Movement in the hall caught his eye. Someone was coming out of the restrooms.
Without hesitating, Brandon pushed the kitchen door a foot open. A boy of about eight or nine was walking back to his table.
“Hey,” he said.
The boy slowed. Slowed enough for Brandon to grab him and pull him into the kitchen.
The kid drew in a breath to scream. Brandon didn’t want to hurt him. Instead, he covered his mouth with one hand and showed him the gun.
“See this?”
The boy nodded.
“I’ll kill your mother if you say a word.”
Carina