Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [30]
Even now, in the middle of a murder investigation where he was a suspect, Steve waved to people he recognized, smiled, acknowledged peers. Like he was on stage, always on show. It was the old Steve coupled with a Steve he didn’t really know, and that bothered Nick.
Just how much had Steve changed since he left Montana?
Nick caught up with Steve and asked, “What do they want with your computer?”
“I don’t know. I guess to see where I’ve been, what I’ve done online. It’s actually really easy to track e-mail and Internet traffic. It should be a piece of cake for the police.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do they want to know where you’ve been online, what e-mails you sent? Why is your computer important to them?”
Steve paused. “Angie had an anonymous online journal. It was . . . irresponsible. I told her to tone it down, but she didn’t listen. I know that journal had something to do with her murder. I guess the police just want to make sure I didn’t say something incriminating online or threaten her or something. Or maybe they are looking for something like that to pin Angie’s murder on me, but I didn’t do it. And they’re not going to find anything that said I did.”
Steve sounded defiant, and Nick’s uneasiness grew. The police had mentioned the website. Nothing in detail. “I need to look at this journal.”
Steve shook his head. “There’s no reason for you to.”
“Dammit Steve!” Nick stopped walking. His brother turned around and glared at him. “You have to take this seriously,” Nick said. “Your ex-girlfriend was murdered. The police are looking at you. You have motive and no real alibi.”
“I had no motive to kill Angie! Whose side are you on?”
“I want to be on your side. I really do. But look at the facts. Angie was eighteen years old. You’re old enough to be her father. That’s—” Nick cut off what he was about to say, something that would be impossible to take back.
Instead, he softened his tone. “What’s going on with you, Steve? You’re not working, you’ve been going to school long enough to earn three degrees, and you’re dating college girls. You’re just shy of forty and your girlfriends can’t even legally drink!”
“Why are you judging me? Don’t you trust me? Don’t you know me?”
“I thought I did.” Nick hated the direction this conversation had taken, but he had no choice. The truth demanded that he push Steve.
“I don’t make it a habit dating girls at the college. Angie was the only one. It—I understand what you’re saying. Really. And you didn’t know Angie. She was different. She needed me. We hit it off.”
Nick wasn’t certain he fully believed Steve, but why would he lie?
“Is there anything you’re not telling me?”
Steve clenched his fists. “Do you think I did that to Angie?”
“No.” But Nick had waited a beat before answering, and Steve seized on it, his jaw tight but his eyes filled with hurt.
“You think I’m capable of that type of cruelty? That I could rape a woman? You think that of me? You really don’t know me.” Steve stared at the ocean, his eyes watery. “You don’t know me at all.”
“That’s not what I said—” Nick began, but Steve cut him off.
“I thought you were here to help me, Nick. I was wrong. I didn’t think I had to prove to my own brother that I’m innocent. Maybe you’re right, maybe I do need a lawyer. Because if my own flesh and blood believes me capable of murder, it’s no wonder the fucking police are trying to hang me.”
“That’s not how it works—”
Steve shook his head, waved his arm toward his apartment building up the beach. “Why don’t you go join your buddies who turned my apartment upside down? Skewer me because I’m the easiest to blame. And let Angie’s killer walk the streets free. Because the truth doesn’t mean anything, does it? As long as you guys have someone to throw in jail, the truth doesn’t matter.