North Country(45)

It feels like forever until he finally says, “You told your mother to stop sending pictures after that. Said it was too hard to look at everyone’s faces.”

“I didn’t want to risk a repeat, if someone else came looking.” But after that, few inmates dared provoke me. “I almost told her not to write me either anymore, but—”

“She wouldn’t have listened,” he finishes for me.

“No.” But I made sure to tear up every letter as soon as I finished savoring them, reading the words a dozen times over, memorizing details, closing my eyes and pretending I could see what she described.

Dad paces—four steps to one side, four steps to the other—as he digests the heaping plate of skeletons I just fed him. And I hate to admit it, but the relief that it’s out in the open is enormous. His shoulders seem to sink under the weight of it all. “Jesus, Logan. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“What? That Jay was a genuine piece of shit? That he had all this, he had us, and he’d rather be slumming with degenerates, moving fucking guns and drugs that hurt people for a quick payday?” A truth that has tainted every good memory I’ve ever had of my brother, as I struggle to reconcile the side I knew with the version that ruined so many lives. “You knowing that wouldn’t have changed anything. You knowing what Jay was wouldn’t have made anything better. It could have made it worse. Because we don’t know what else they were into. All I do know is they pulled those guns damn fast that night. Like it wasn’t the first time they’d pulled guns on someone before. And Mom …” I shake my head. “I was afraid this might be the thing that finally breaks her.”

Dad presses his hands on the hood of the truck, as if needing the support. I’m surprised I can’t hear the mice scurrying within the walls, as deathly quiet as it has become in the garage.

“Okay” is all Dad says after another lengthy moment.

“Okay?”

“I mean, I believe you about Hank, about not starting anything that wasn’t already here.” He scratches at his chin. “Let’s keep this between us, yeah? If your mother hears about the run-in back at the Bale House, we’ll just play it off as the Murphys being drunk. But she doesn’t need to know about all this other stuff. You’re right. She’s finally happy, and we’re not gonna let anything dampen that. Let whatever’s in the past stay there.”

I nod. Something we agree on.

“It’s been a long week. I’m ready for bed.” He straightens himself up. “You worked hard. Get some rest, if you can.”

Mom must have told him about my trouble sleeping. “Jack and I are heading down to Temagami to fish in the morning. But I should be home by noon and then I’ll get more clearing done.”

He nods. “Sticking with your family is a good idea. Get to know your cousins. They’re decent men. Jameson could learn to shut up once in a while, but he means well.” He ambles toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “That’s not a good idea.” He points toward the staircase that leads to my apartment. “It won’t end well.”

With Emery, he means. “It ended a long time ago.”

“I guess we’ll see about that,” he mutters as he walks out, pulling the door shut behind him.

Steeling my nerve, I march for my stairs, bracing myself for round two.

Emery sits perched halfway up, hidden in the shadows.





Chapter 16





Emery




The old stairs to the loft were uneven, steep, and creaky. Growing up, Logan, Sarah, and I used to try to sneak up on each other all the time. It was a game no one could ever win.

When Sarah and Jon moved in, they replaced them with a nice new quiet set that no one had to worry about falling through. Holt insisted it was a waste of money, but tonight, when I made a point of shutting the door to Logan’s apartment and then creeping back down to learn all the things Logan’s been hiding from me, I’d wager it was the best money ever spent.

“Jesus, Em.” Logan stands at the bottom of the stairs, peering up at me with a mixture of exasperation and irritation.

“What?”

“You’re not even going to pretend you weren’t eavesdropping?”

I pull myself to my feet, taking the steps down, a thousand different thoughts filtering through my mind. “I told you I wanted answers. If this was the only way to get them, so be it.” Except now I have so many more questions.

Logan’s gaze roams mine in silence. I’d pay anything to know what is going through his thoughts.

“So, Jay was into it after all.” This fairy tale that he was a good guy who got pulled into a Murphy mess like Logan was just that—a fairy tale.

“Yeah, tell me you didn’t already know that. ”

“I’d heard a few things, here and there, but nothing solid.” Mostly useless rumors from CIs who never amounted to anything. Things I would never repeat to Annie. “Why didn’t your lawyer use Dorsey’s threats in the assault case? It could have helped you.” But I already know the answer—because Logan never reported any of them, making it one convict’s word over another, and one of those convicts ended up in a coma.

“It would have dragged more shit to the surface for everyone but Jay. God only knows what he did and who he might have hurt.” Logan shakes his head. “And I didn’t want you knowing.”