Winter (Four Seasons #1) (33 page)

Twenty Six

Breakwater

“
I’M GONNA
need your keys, cell phone, jewelry, loose change, everything in
your pockets, basically, and that includes your lint. Place the
items in the tray and wait until we call you.” I don’t know the
young female officer behind the counter of Breakwater police
station and she doesn’t know me, but we’ve come to an instant
mutual agreement: we don’t like one another. She seems fine with
Luke, though. “You can go through if you like, hon. Chloe’s
expecting you.”

“
That’s okay,
I’ll wait out here,” he tells her, slipping his hand into mine. We
sit in the station for an hour before Chloe Mathers, Luke’s old
partner, comes to find us. I recognize her as soon as she walks
through the door. She was with Luke the day they came to tell us
about my dad. She made my mom a cup of tea, like that was going to
fix everything.

“
Iris,” she
says, nodding towards me. “Good to see you again. How you goin’,
Luke?” She bypasses his outstretched hand and pulls him in for a
hug. “Not the most ideal circumstances to be seeing you again, but
still a pleasure all the same.”

Luke hugs her
back awkwardly. “Yeah, good to see you, too, Chloe.”

She nods her
head through the open door behind her into the police station.
“Come on. He’s already been interviewed, I’m not supposed to do
this but it can’t really hurt. You can see him for five
minutes.”

My heart
fumbles in my chest. I still have no idea why they pulled my uncle
in, what they can possibly have discovered to make them think he
had anything to do with this. They have to be wrong. We follow
Chloe into the station and make our way to the holding cells. The
place reminds me of a hospital, all bleach and blank faces and
flickering fluorescent lighting. Chloe stops in front of a door,
opens it, and gestures us inside. Through the door, there’s a
single peeling veneer table, three chairs, and my uncle Brandon. He
looks startled when his head shoots up, catching sight of me
immediately.

“
What are you
doing here, kiddo? You didn’t need to come.” He looks like hell.
He’s always a little scruffy, but his unshaven face and the bags
under his eyes make him look flat-out ill.

“
You look like
shit, Uncle B.” I take a seat across the table from and turn—Luke
is hovering in the doorway.

“
I can give
you guys a minute, if you like?”

I shake my
head. “It’s fine. Stay. Please.” There’s no way I can handle doing
this on my own, and Luke will know better than anyone if they have
grounds to keep holding Brandon. Luke nods, slipping into the seat
beside me.

“
I’ll be back
in five,” Officer Mathers tells us. She pulls a tight smile and
closes the door, leaving us alone.

“
What the
hell’s going on, Brandon? No one will tell us anything.”

Brandon closes
his eyes, his shoulders slumping. He looks exhausted. “They say
they think I was there the day your dad and those other men died.
They think I had something to do with it.”

My knee sets
to bouncing up and down under the table. Just hearing him say those
words makes bile rise up in my throat. “Why the hell would they
think that?”

“
Something
about an old camera of mine. They had a video handed in at the
station a week ago and it was apparently shot using a specific kind
of film. A rare one that I used to use.”

“
Well, that’s
ridiculous! I mean anyone could have a camera that uses a certain
type of film, Brand. Right?”

My uncle goes
quiet for a moment, chewing on his lip. “Yeah, but there’s a fault
on this particular camera I own, a light leak. It allows light into
the housing. It corrupts the video in a very specific way.
Apparently, the film that was handed in bore a leak that could only
have been created by my camera.”

I process this
for a second. “So, it was definitely your camera. Does that mean
they can prove it was you who shot the thing?” My heart is beating
like crazy. A small, terrified part of my brain is causing chaos,
screaming,
Did he do it? Did he do
it?
Of course he didn’t, I know that, but
still. That nasty little suspicion is making my whole body tremble.
Luke puts his hand on my knee under the table, shoots me a
reassuring look.

“
I keep
telling them that I loaned that camera to your dad, Iris, but they
don’t seem to be listening. He borrowed it months before he died. I
never got it back. They seized it among his possessions, but they
say someone was holding the camera when your dad was in that room
with the other men…it wasn’t on a tripod, it was following him
around the room.”

A pained
expression flutters across Brandon’s face. He looks sick to his
stomach.

“
You know I
would never hurt anyone, right Iris? You know I would never hurt
your dad?”

I nod my head
immediately. I can’t get the words out, though. It isn’t that I
don’t believe him. My throat is just closing up, refusing to let me
speak. This is such a mess. Everything. My whole life, Brandon’s
life, Luke’s…

“
Brandon, I’m
going to go see if I can get you a coffee,” Luke murmurs. He
squeezes my hand one last time and then plants a soft kiss on top
of my head, surprising me. “I’ll be right back.”

Brandon
scratches at his stubble, his eyes searching my face. “I knew you
were a smart girl,” is all he says. His gaze drops to his hands,
and it’s then that I notice they’re handcuffed together at the
wrists.

“
Oh my God,
they’ve
cuffed you
?”

“
I’m under
arrest, kiddo. Generally means you get the five star
treatment.”

“
This is such
bullshit. We’re going to work this out, okay? Do you even know
what’s on the tape?”

Brandon sighs,
heavy and worn down. “They’re not sharing. I think they’re trying
to get me to slip up, waiting for
me
to tell
them
what’s on the tape. I’m pretty
sure they think they’re gonna get me to accidentally admit to
something that way.”

“
Will they
tell Luke what—” My sentence remains unfinished. The door to the
interview room slams open, and a tall woman in a pantsuit stands
there, gaping at us. Her red hair is pulled back into a tight bun,
so tight, in fact, that I wonder whether she’s cut the circulation
off to her scalp.

“
What the hell
are you doing in here?” The woman places one arm up on the
doorjamb, the other on her hip. She glares straight at me,
pissed.

“
I—I was told
this was okay?”

“
Well,
it’s
not
okay. Who
are you?”

“
Iris Breslin.
She’s my niece,” Brandon answers. I return the woman’s steely gaze,
getting the distinct feeling that she’s pulling it off a lot more
convincingly than I am.

“
I’m FBI Agent
Cosgrove, and this is a federal investigation. You can’t be in
here.” She motions me to stand with a casual flick of her
wrist.
Up.

I rise,
shooting Brandon a quick glance. “I’ll call a lawyer, okay? You’ll
be out of here by tomorrow.”

I have to
leave then, under the watchful eye of Agent Cosgrove. She shoots
daggers at me as she slams the door, blocking out my uncle and her
unsmiling face as she does so. Luke appears down the abandoned
corridor with a polystyrene cup in either hand, the coffee
steaming.

“
What’s going
on?”

“
Some FBI
bitch just booted me out. She was a real bulldog.”

Luke bites his
lip, staring at the closed investigation room door in front of us.
He hands me a coffee. I take it, my hands still shaking. “We can’t
leave him in here, Luke. I know he’s got nothing to do with this.
We have to get him a lawyer.”

A crease forms
in between Luke’s brows. Something’s up. He looks…anxious. “I got
that covered. I just made a call.”

“
Okay.” I
don’t say anything else. I know there’s more coming, something he
doesn’t want to tell me. “I contacted the legal firm on file as
Brandon’s representation.”

“
Right. When
are they getting here? Which agency is it?”

Luke visibly
blanches. “They’ll be here first thing in the morning. And the
agency is…it’s Harrod, Whitt, St. French,” he rushes
out.

Those three
names are like individual explosions in my ears. Harrod. Whitt. St.
French.

Shit.

“
You’ve got to
be kidding me.”

Luke flinches.
“Yeah, I’m sorry babe. Your mom is on her way.”

Twenty Seven

Laney

SURPRISINGLY,
THERE aren’t any rules about lawyers representing family members.
The phrase,
conflict of interest
is bandied around inside the station as Luke and I
depart, but there’s nothing the cops or the FBI can do about it. I
leave with a ten-ton weight sitting in my gut. My mom is on her way
from New York to defend Brandon. I feel sick just thinking about
seeing her back in Break. I have no idea what Luke had to say to
even get her to agree. She cares for Brandon about as much as she
cares about me as far as I can tell. And that isn’t very
much.

Night is
closing in by the time we step outside. We’d hopped on the first
plane out of the city when we’d woken up, and as such we didn’t
even have a car when we arrived. It is freezing cold, snowing, and
we’re using one of Brandon’s old beaters from his auto mechanics
shop to get us around. Luke opens my door for me, his manners still
somehow functioning amidst all the madness of the last twelve
hours. “My mom—” he starts, then shakes his head.

“
What? Your
mom what?”

“
Ahh, she said
we should go by there for dinner tonight.” He grimaces, like he
suspects how badly I just want to be alone. There’s a faintly
hopeful glimmer in his eye, too, though. It suddenly hits me how
good he’s been since this morning when we heard about my uncle. He
booked our flights; he called into work and told them he couldn’t
make his shifts for a couple of days; he drove me across New York
in the mid-morning traffic so I could pick up clothes and
toiletries from Columbia. He basically held me together the whole
day, when I was on the verge of falling apart. The least I can do
is go eat with his mother.

“
It’s okay,” I
say softly. “We can go.”

Surprise, then
happiness forms on his face. “We don’t need to hang around. We can
leave straight afterwards.”

I shake my
head. “It’s all right. You didn’t see her at Thanksgiving. You
should spend some time with her.”

We make our
way across Break, my stomach churning the whole time. I’ve only
been gone five months but it feels like an eternity. Like the place
should have changed dramatically in the time I’ve been gone,
because heaven knows I have. And yet the bowling lane, the shooting
club where both Luke’s dad and mine had been members, the
convenience store, the diner with its infamous thick
shakes…everything still stands where it did half a year ago. Luke
drives the long way from the police station to his mom’s house, and
I know exactly why. The quickest route takes us past Breakwater
High, the sprawling institution where I spent four of the worst
years of my life. Luke’s smart enough to know I will probably burst
into tears if I have to see it again. I grip hold of his hand as we
pull up outside a ranch style home that I’ve driven past many
times, knowing that it’s where he grew up, but never having been
inside.

“
Does…” I draw
in a deep breath. “Does your mom know about…” Ugh, why can’t I just
say it? This is strangely awkward.

Luke smiles
softly. “About us? I don’t think so, no.”

I don’t know
if that is a relief or just something else to worry about. Are we
expected to go in there and explain our complicated relationship to
Luke’s mom now, too, on top of how my uncle has been
arrested?

“
Hey, don’t
look so freaked out. My mom’s a sweetheart. She won’t ask questions
if you don’t want her to.” Luke crooks a finger under my chin,
turning so I have to look at him. He’s wearing a tense expression,
worry all over his face. His deep brown eyes are studiously
scouring me, searching to see if I am okay. He has a six o’clock
shadow after not shaving this morning in our rush to get to the
airport on time, and it makes him look older. How I can still feel
small next to him, silly and girlish, with everything that is going
on was a mystery. But I do. He’s seriously hot. Not to mention
loving and patient and kind. I feel myself welling up just looking
at him.

“
Hey. Hey,
what’s up?” he whispers.

“
I just…I
do
not
deserve
you. I’ve been a complete bitch to you, Luke. I’ve been ungrateful
and selfish and a massive pain in the ass, and you didn’t deserve
any of it.”

“
You have been
a massive pain in the ass, yes.” He smirks casually, and two fat
tears roll down my face. He brushes them away tenderly, making me
want to cry even harder. “But we’re both a little broken, you and
I. I see you, Avery. I really see
you
, the places you’re wounded, and I
want to be the person to put you back together. I know you still
need some time to disassociate me and with everything that’s
happened here, but I’m willing to wait. I want that so
bad.”