39. Riot
Riot
I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I tried to distract myself by searching all kinds of federal laws about false confessions but the more I searched, the deeper into a vortex I went.
None of it was good. But Nicolette had made a valid point — why would a simple domestic manslaughter case interest the feds?
The thought of her name gripped my heart in a bitter ache. I would never understand how someone could hurt another person like this, let alone a person they claimed to love .
The despairclungto my hollow chest. Ireplayedher words, her expression, her body, all of it.
Riot, I love you!
The words had sent me flying. It was exactly what I had been hoping to hear less than an hour before. And now they were the worst words in the entire world.
Because they were either a lie or worse. They were the truth, and she was a person willing to betray someone she loved.
The next daywasa frantic scramble of phone calls. Icalledmy attorney, whowasout of the office because itwasSunday. I couldn’t find an FBI office in Charleston so Icalledthe police department.
“We’ve got nobody named Brennan Asher anywhere in our custody. ”
“No, I know that. He was taken by two federal agents. They said they took him to an office in Charleston. Sam Billings and someone named Gibbons.”
“We don’thaveany officers by those names, sir.”
I wanted to scream. Break something. I hung up and found the generic number to the FBI but that was a black hole of pointlessness. When I did get through to a human being, it was a lot of “we can’t give out that information” or “we’re uncertain at this time”.
No one I spoke to had any idea what I was talking about and I began to doubt that I was even awake.
Had I dreamed all of it? A wisp of hope drifted past my chest at the thought.
This was all a bad dream. Brennan was home, holed up in his little adult tree house like usual.
Nicolette was never assigned to do a story on me and she was here because she loved me and I loved her.
My probation would get cut short, and we’d travel together.
Her finding stories. Me selling art. Together forever.
But the chilling silence of the entire propertysnappedme back to life. And the overwhelming vacancy in my lanaiborea hole in me so big IthoughtI might fall into it forever.
That was the only forever allowed to me now.
It had been a full twenty-four hours since the agent took my brother away and I was starting to panic. Spinning like a top, I’d never felt so helpless.
As the day waned into night, I almost pulled a bottle of bourbon out so that I might get some sleep. But I needed to be sharp. In case they came back. In case he came home. The agonizing hope remained wrapped around my brain until sleep finally claimed me.
When Monday morning rolled around, I couldn’t go to work. I called in sick and even though Rodger gave me attitude and said he’d have to report it to my parole officer, I didn’t care. I was most likely going back to prison for perjury according to the internet .
My lawyerwasstill out of town and Ibeggedthe receptionist for anyone to talk to.
“Please. My brother… he’s not well. He’s not good… at talking to people. I told him I’d send a lawyer.”
“Where is he being held?”
Iclosedmy eyes.“I don’t know. I need help to figure that out.”
The line was quiet. “I’m really not sure what to tell you, Riot. Unless we get more information regarding his whereabouts, there’s nothing we can do.”
I slammed the receiver down and ripped the phone off the wall.
I woke up with the sun the next day. Called in sick again.
Nothing seemed to matter. Not without my brother.
Not without her . I laid in bed all day and waited for the sheets to swallow me whole.
Her scent was beginning to fade along with the fire and the hope that had kept me going the last few days.
So, I gave in and laid down on the bed that was once hers, her scent stronger than ever. Where it once filled my heart, it now stung my eyes. I could lay here forever, wrapped in the only piece of Nicolette I’d ever have.
I couldn’t let myself think about her anymore. I got out of her bed and stalked into the living room where I slammed the sliding door shut, locking it behind me and vowing not to go back in there until the captivating smell of her skin and hair had faded.
When night began to fall, I had promised myself that I would get some sleep tonight. I was losing my mind with exhaustion and I was starting to see dinosaur shadows everywhere I went.
I had just pulled a reserved bottle of bourbon from underneath the bar when my cell phone rang. Sluggishly I pulled it out of my pocket and my eyes opened a bit more when I saw it was the lawyer’s office.
“Riot,” Allan Catalano barked into the phone.
“Allan, thank you so much for calling back. Did anyone find Brennan or at least find out why he’s being held?” I stopped breathing, holding my breath.
“Not sure about that, but Iranthat name Agent Sam Billings by a couple of my contacts. I can’t reckon what they want with your brother but that agentisassignedto a very specific division of cyber intelligence. Now, as far his release goes…”
But his words were lost when I saw headlights turn down my road. My heart lifted when the black sedan pulled into my driveway. Suddenly alert, I darted to the front door, slamming it open with a bang, idly aware I had dropped my cellphone.
Brennan emerged from the backseat, looking stricken but not terribly much more than usual. I moved faster than I thought my feet could go and my body slammed into his chest, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
He didn’t hug me back, juststiffenedin the normal way Brennan did when peopletouchedhim. My heartfloodedwith relief.
I stepped back but kept my hands on his shoulders, afraid he might disappear if I broke contact with him.
“Are you alright? What happened?” I looked him over. “What did they do, Brennan? What did they say? Where have you been?”
Brennanleanedin.“Which question would you like me to answer first?”
A long sighescapedmy lips and at that moment his answers didn’t matter. Ipulledhim into the house.
“Can I make you anything?Areyou hungry? Did they feed you?”
Brennan blinked at me and repeated, “Which question would you like me to answer first?” It was one of those times his quirky mannerisms were frustrating. I took a deep breath, trying to remain patient.
“How about I heat some SpaghettiOs and you can start from thebeginning?”
They kept Brennan in the dark, as they did to me and Nicolette when we were brought in. They kept him waiting even longer though, only questioning him once that Saturday evening and it was the same question they had asked us.
“They played the recording of you confessing the truth to Nicolette.” Brennan blinked at me and my face flushed.
“Brennan, I’m so sorry about that. She was halfway there on her own and I thought I could trust her. I promised it was yours and mine only and I broke that promise and you have no idea how sorry—”
“They said they had traced its origins back to this property.” I didn’t think my heart could break into more pieces but now that I knew Nicolette had lied about that too, I was hollow all over again. “Then they asked if I was aware of who sent it.”
“Yeah, they asked us the same thing.” My eyes grew dark, the anger beginning to replace the sadness. “Of course, Nicolette lied and pretended to know nothing about it. I swear if I ever see her again—”
“It’s unlikely sheknewabout the audio’s existence.”
My hand stopped stirring the pot in front of me. I turned to face him.
“How would you know that?”
“Because when I first accessed the file, it showed no signs of modification since its origin. I suppose she could have known about it but she’d have to have pretty extensive knowledge of metadata erasure and while I would not underestimate her—”
“What do you mean when you first accessedthe file?” My voice climbed higher.
Brennan clasped his hands, and he looked down.
“What do you mean, Brennan!”The volume of my voicestartledhim and hestoodup, taking a step back, his eyesdartingall over the room,landingeverywhere but on me.
“I overheard you two talking.” His words were aimed at the ground.
I turned the stove off and threw the spoon in the kitchen sink, a fresh wave of dread creeping up my throat.
The sensation of falling made me grip the counter.
“On Friday night. You said the last few weeks with her were the happiest you’d ever been.
” The feeling of falling came to a sudden halt and it was as if I had smashed through the plate glass door of the screen room.
“You said having to be stuck here without her would be crippling.” The shards of his words pierced my soul.
“Brennan, I didn’t mean it like that. Iwasn’treferringto you—”
“You’ve done everything for me, Riot.” His eyes still shifted around awkwardly but they hovered closer to my head. “I was supposed to be the big brother.”
His lower lip quivered, and I was stunned. The last time I saw Brennan emotional, it was at our dad’s burial. I was incarcerated for our mother’s but I somehow doubted he managed to shed a tear.
“I thought if I sent that recording anonymously and they heard the truth, it might shed just enough doubt that you could at least be released from parole sooner.” He twisted his gaze around, sheepish, before meeting my eyes with so much sentiment I think my heart might burst.