Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [125]
She looked at Josh. The kid was frightened, but he stood straight. The only sign that he was scared was the way his wide brown eyes darted from her to Kyle and back again. Pleading with her to save him.
For a brief moment she pictured her nephew’s large brown eyes pleading with his killer, begging for his life.
Not now, Kincaid. It wouldn’t do her any good to think that way. She caught Josh’s eye and made a connection. Trust me.
“Brandon, what have you done?” Kyle’s voice barely registered, and Carina focused on the scene unfolding in front of her. Kyle had stepped closer to his brother, his hands out, palms up. “You killed Angie? You killed those other women?”
“You’d never understand,” Brandon said.
“No, I don’t. For years I’ve been trying to forget about our father and how he fucked up our lives, and here you are pulling the same shit.”
“Don’t talk to me about Dad! Don’t you see? This is my chance to find him. She”—he waved the gun toward Carina—“knows where he is.”
“I don’t know where he is,” Carina said.
Brandon glared at her. “You were asking questions about him. You’re looking for him, right?”
“He’s wanted by LAPD for rape,” Carina said.
“No, no, you have it all wrong,” Brandon said, moving the gun from Josh to Carina and back. “She lied. She had sex with my dad and then lied about it to get him in trouble.”
“That’s Mom talking!” Kyle exclaimed.
Brandon’s attention turned back to Kyle, and Carina nodded, hoping Kyle saw her. Keep him talking, Kyle. Keep him focused on you.
She inched toward the stove. It was off—the cook had heard about the fictitious gas leak—but the oil for the fries was still hot. If she could get Josh away from Brandon, she might have a distraction until she could get to her clutch piece, the small twenty-two she had tucked in her back waistband.
But Josh had to be safe before she made any aggressive move.
“You always talked shit about Dad,” Brandon said. “You always believed the lies.”
“They weren’t lies! Don’t you see?”
“Stop. Just stop it! I’m going to find Dad and then you’ll see.”
“You won’t find him! He’s dead!”
Brandon stared at Kyle, eyes wide and disbelieving. “You don’t know that. You don’t know anything.
“I know he’s dead because I killed him,” Kyle said, taking a step toward Brandon. “I killed him. He deserved it.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that so I give up trying to find him.”
“Our father was a rapist, a sadist. He was bad news all the way around. When he got out of prison he didn’t wait long. Just a few months. And I knew he was going out at night, up to his old tricks. So I followed him.”
Brandon’s focus was solely on Kyle. His grip on Josh hadn’t loosened, however; if anything, it was firmer. The kid winced under the pressure of his fingers.
“I watched him crawl in through the unlocked window. I stood there, saw what he did to that woman. I just stood there and didn’t do anything.” Kyle glanced at Carina, then looked down. “I’ve hated myself ever since. Hated myself for not stopping him. For not calling the cops.”
“You’re lying,” Brandon said.
“I followed him to a bar. I couldn’t go in, but I waited. He came out drunk. He saw me, came over. I had Mom’s car. He sat in the passenger seat and asked how I’d liked watching.
“The bastard knew all along I was there. I pulled out Mom’s gun, the one she got after the trial, and shot him. I didn’t even think about it. I just shot him and he died right there.”
Brandon paled, his hand shook, and he raised the gun toward Kyle. “You . . . you couldn’t have. You didn’t—”
“I killed him. And guess what? Mom helped