“That was your brother? The killer?”
“Good old Brendan.” She took a gulp from the glass and stared into space. “This case in Indiana, when they spoke with the neighbors and with friends, they all said how close the family was. An ideal, all-American family, they all said. Well, they used to say that about us, too.”
“People on the outside, they never really know what’s going on.”
“Well, in our case, apparently no one on the inside knew, either. He never showed a thing, never gave any one of us a hint that something was evil and twisted inside him. And the thing is, none of us ever saw it.” She leaned forward in the chair again and whispered, “Why didn’t we know?”
“Because he obviously didn’t want to share that part of his life with you.”
“But you’re family, you should know.” Her eyes welled but no tears fell. “And here’s the thing that’s killing me. Connor-who my brother had intended to murder-still treats me like the princess.”
“The princess?”
“I was the only girl in the entire family.” She nodded. “That’s why I was the princess.” She leaned forward and added, “That’s why I should have been the one to know.”
“The one to know about Brendan?”
She nodded.
“I’m not following that.”
“I was supposed to be the momma. I was supposed to take care of the boys the way Mom would have. And I did not do that.”
“I thought your brothers were all older than you.”
“They are.”
“And the cousins, the other three guys? They were all older, too?”
She nodded.
“Then why were you supposed to be responsible for them?”
“Uncle George said so,” she told him solemnly.
“Uncle George?”
“My mother’s uncle.”
“When did he tell you that?”
“When everyone came back to the house after my mother’s funeral.”
“Uncle George told you that you were supposed to be the little mother because your mother was dead?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mia, with all due respect, Uncle George has his head up his ass. That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”
“I agree. It was stupid and cruel and it was sexist, and my mother must have turned right over in her grave, but I was seven years old and I had just watched my mother be put in the ground.” She sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her right hand. “I still wasn’t clear on whether or not she was going to come back. I mean, even if she could get out of that box, how was she going to dig through all the dirt?”
Mia took a deep breath. “You know, no matter what you tell a child about death, they really don’t understand a damned thing you’re saying, because it’s all beyond their experience.
“I clung to the adults around me for a long time because I had to. They all became much more important to me than they had been before she died. So when one of them told me something so profound, I believed it. I believed it for a long time.”
“You still believe it.”
“I try really hard not to. But it’s still in there.”
“You need to find a way to get it out, once and for all.” He paused for a moment. “Have you thought about maybe seeing someone…?”
“Yeah, I have.” She tried to smile. “But basically, I’m lazy. I’ll try to deal as best I can with something before I’ll break my routine and try another way of dealing. It’s the way I’m wired.”
Beck picked up the bottle again. “This is not a good way to deal.”
“Maybe not,” she conceded, “but at least I can sleep at night. For a while, I could not.”
“You didn’t have problems sleeping before you left for Indiana?”
“Not really. When I first moved, it did take me a few days to get accustomed to the sounds in the new house, but for the most part, I was okay.” She thought that over for a moment. “But I’d been traveling a lot for several months. That’s why Connor suggested I move into his house.”
“Your cousin Connor?”
“Yes. Super Special Agent Connor Shields,” she stage-whispered. “We tease him about being the real international man of mystery because no one knows where he goes or what he does when he gets there.”
“You share a house with him?”
“Not really. He’s never there. That’s why he offered me the house. I was traveling a lot and rarely at my apartment, which was expensive, and he had bought this house but he wasn’t there either, so he suggested I give up my apartment and move into his house. Then I could save money and buy a house of my own.” She laughed softly and said, “No one knows how Connor found this place-it’s butt ugly, by the way, a sort of mustard yellow, stone-set-in-stucco bungalow on a forgotten road in the middle of the woods. And no one can figure out why he wanted to buy it, since he’s never around. But he bought it and he moved into it, remodeled, then promptly left the country.”
She paused, then looked at Beck and said, “You really think I’m going off the deep end, don’t you? I’m not, and I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression. I just have trouble sleeping, that’s all.”
“I think you have a lot on your plate,” he said softly. “And I also think you might want to talk to someone professional, because if you keep doing that”-he pointed to the glass in her hand-“you’re going to have a bigger problem than not being able to sleep.”
“I know you’re right,” she said, but did not put the glass down. “And for the record, I tried sleeping pills, but they made me too groggy in the morning. I’ve tried meditation, hypnosis, acupuncture, and exercising until I can barely walk. Nothing seems to relax me except a few glasses of wine at night. I know it isn’t smart, but…” She shrugged.
“Don’t you have a headache when you get up?”
“Sometimes, but I don’t really drink that much. I mean, I don’t pass out or anything. I just drink until the voices stop and I can sleep.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, now I’ve really done it, haven’t I? Now you think I hear voices.”
She set the glass down on the grass at her feet. “The voices I hear are those of my brother Grady, my cousin Dylan. Grady’s dead wife Melissa. And when I say I hear them, it’s because I talk to them sometimes. I ask Brendan why, though he doesn’t really have an answer. I tell Dylan how much I miss him, and I tell him about Annie and he tells me it’s okay where he is. I tell Melissa how sorry I am that she and Grady didn’t get to live their life, and she tells me to take care of him and not to let him waste his life mourning for her. Does that sound crazy?”
“Actually, no, it doesn’t.”
“Did you ever talk to someone who was gone?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I have.”
“Family?”
Another nod.
“See? No one can mess you up like your family.”
“You have no idea…”
She waited to see if he’d elaborate, but he did not, and she let it pass. She started to reach for the glass again, then changed her mind and drew her hand back.
“Mia, why did you challenge him like that?”
She knew exactly which he Beck was referring to. Personal time was over. It was back to business.
“I looked around that room, at all those people, and I knew he was there. I could feel him. I could almost smell that superior attitude of his, sense the challenge he was sending out, and I had to toss it back at him.
“I knew he was in that room, and he knew I knew it,” she continued. “And he also knew I had no idea who he was and he was enjoying that a little too much. It pissed me off. The longer it takes us to figure out who he is, the more likely it is that another young woman will die. I can more than take care of myself if he comes after me. You think most of the young women in this town can say the same?”