Chapter Eleven — The Dangerous Brother #3
“Mr. Vale. Mr. Mercer.”
Ronan's voice was flat.
“What do you want?”
“I'd like to ask you a few follow-up questions.”
“You have my number.”
“I was nearby.”
Lie. Elliot knew immediately. Maybe not technically. But Vance hadn't accidentally wandered eighty yards up a private drive and behind their parents' house.
“About?” Ronan asked.
“Lucas Harper.”
Ronan glanced at Elliot.
“Why?”
Vance's gaze shifted.
“May we come in?”
“No,” Elliot said.
Ronan looked at him. So did Vance. Elliot smiled politely.
“Sorry. We're about to leave.”
Another lie. Better. Vance regarded him for several seconds.
“Where?”
Ronan's jaw tightened. Elliot answered.
“My mother's.”
Technically nearby enough to count.
“Can I speak with Ronan outside, then?”
Elliot's irritation flashed. Ronan saw it.
“It's fine.”
“No.”
Vance's eyebrows lifted slightly. Ronan turned.
“Elliot.”
“No.”
The uniformed officer watched them. Elliot immediately realized how this looked. Possessive. Controlling. Except the wrong person was displaying it. He softened.
“Sorry.”
He stepped back.
“Of course.”
Ronan's eyes narrowed. He knew exactly what Elliot had done. Public Elliot. Golden boy. Switch flipped. Vance knew too. That bothered Elliot. Ronan stepped onto the porch. Elliot remained inside with the door open. Close enough to hear. Vance looked toward him. Then decided not to object.
“Where were you Tuesday between midnight and two?” she asked Ronan.
“At home.”
“With Elliot?”
“Yes.”
Elliot's stomach tightened. Ronan glanced back. A tiny warning. Don't react. Vance asked, “The entire time?” Ronan hesitated. Fuck.
“I was working downstairs.”
“Was Elliot with you?”
“Some of it.”
“Some?”
“He went upstairs.”
“What time?”
“I don't remember.”
“Did you see him again before morning?”
Ronan's face changed. Elliot felt cold. The couch. They had fallen asleep together Wednesday night. Wrong night. Tuesday. Lucas disappeared Tuesday. Ronan had been working. Elliot had been home. Mostly. Vance watched him think.
“Not until morning,” Ronan said.
Elliot's pulse accelerated. Vance wrote something.
“Did you leave the house?”
“No.”
“Vehicle?”
“No.”
“Anyone confirm?”
“Elliot.”
Vance's eyes moved toward him. Elliot smiled faintly. There. They were becoming each other's alibis. That could either help enormously or collapse beautifully.
“Why are you asking him this?” Elliot said.
Vance looked toward him.
“Mr. Mercer.”
“You already asked me.” “Yes.” “And I told you he was home.” “You told me you saw him before midnight.” Elliot said nothing.
She remembered every word. Of course. Ronan looked back.
That tiny difference mattered now. Vance continued.
“Ronan, do you own a black hooded jacket?” Ronan laughed.
“Probably five.” “Baseball caps?” “Yes.” “Black gloves?” “Yes.” Elliot's body went still.
Ronan didn't notice. Vance did. Her eyes flicked toward Elliot for less than a second.
“Motorcycle helmet?” “Obviously.” “Full-face?” “Yes.” “Black?” “Yes.” Vance nodded.
Ronan's irritation grew. “Are you seriously listing every dark-colored item I own?” “We're eliminating possibilities.” “You people love that phrase.” Elliot nearly smiled.
Vance didn't. “Would you consent to us photographing several items?” “No,” Elliot said.
Ronan turned. “Jesus Christ.” Vance looked at Elliot.
“You aren't being asked.” “I know.” “Then let him answer.” Something sharpened in her voice.
Finally. The first real crack. Elliot smiled.
Ronan saw it. “Go inside.” “No.” “Elliot.” Vance watched.
Ronan exhaled. “Fine. What items?” “Your jackets. Gloves. Helmet.”
“Why?”
“Comparison.”
“To footage?”
Silence. There. Ronan understood.
“The guy following Lucas.”
Vance did not confirm. She didn't need to. Ronan laughed once.
“You think that was me.”
“I didn't say that.”
“You never fucking say anything.”
Elliot watched him. Anger built quickly in Ronan. Too quickly. Vance watched too. This was exactly what she wanted.
“Ronan,” Elliot said.
He looked back. Elliot softened his voice.
“Don't.”
One word. Ronan's jaw flexed. Then he stepped backward. Control returned. Elliot felt strangely proud. Vance noticed that too. Damn her.
“I'll let my lawyer know,” Ronan said.
“That's your right.”
“Then we're done.”
Vance nodded. She looked toward Elliot. Not Ronan. Elliot held her gaze. Something passed between them. Recognition. Not of guilt. Not yet. Something simpler. She knew Elliot understood what she was doing. And Elliot knew she knew. That was new.
“Have a good afternoon,” Vance said.
Ronan shut the door. Hard. Not slammed. Close. The second the lock clicked, Elliot turned.
“You're calling Bell.”
“I know.”
“She thinks you're the guy in the footage.”
“I know.”
“You don't match.”
“I own dark clothes.”
“Half the planet owns dark clothes.”
“I ride a motorcycle.”
“So?”
“She asked about a helmet.”
“The footage didn't show a helmet.”
“Maybe there's more.”
Elliot stopped. Yes. There might be more. More cameras. More angles. More witnesses. Variables. His stomach tightened. Ronan picked up his phone. Elliot caught his wrist.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“Don't tell Bell everything over the phone.”
Ronan frowned.
“Why?”
“Just don't.”
Suspicion flickered. Not murder. Not yet. But the question appeared. Why? Elliot felt it. He released him.
“Lawyer conversations should be private.”
Ronan studied him. Then nodded slowly.
“Right.”
Elliot smiled. Ronan called. Elliot walked toward the windows.
Vance's sedan remained near the main drive.
She hadn't left yet. Through bare branches, Elliot could just make out her figure behind the windshield.
Sitting. Watching. His smile disappeared.
The dangerous brother. That was what Bellweather wanted.
Someone obvious. Someone angry. Someone with black clothes, a motorcycle, fights in his past, and a face strangers already distrusted.
Ronan was almost perfect. Almost. Elliot pressed two fingers against the cold window glass.
Detective Vance's car finally pulled away.
He watched until it disappeared. The investigation could look at Ronan.
It could question him. Photograph his jackets.
Dig through every ugly thing he'd ever done.
But it would not take him. Elliot would make sure of that.
Even if protecting Ronan meant giving Bellweather someone else to fear.