I grabbed a sleeve of Oreos from the pantry. I mowed through half of them as I jumped between the news article on the computer screen, the Tri-County Outfitters flyer from Michael’s duffel bag, and the Brethren manifesto on the thumb drive. All of it was coming together, like a marching band on a football field, all the band members walking into place, the people fitting neatly together to form a bigger picture. Houghton was a bunch of racist bigots who had killed three innocent people and set me up to take the fall.
From what I could piece together, Michael discovered Jonathan was laundering money and brought in Gallagher, a white-collar defense lawyer. Michael also found out about the Brethren after Max invited him to join. He threatened to go to the authorities. Why didn’t he tell me all this? But then how could he tell his Black mistress that his white executive colleagues wanted to cleanse the country of “impure races”？ Did Jonathan kill Michael to keep him quiet about the money laundering or did Max kill him to keep him quiet about the Brethren?
And still, the question that obsessed me: Which one of them killed Sam?
My doorbell rang. I opened it and Grace stood in front of me in a navy-blue suit and Burberry trench coat. Her long ponytail was wrapped in a neat little bun at the back of her head.
“Girl, I got here as fast as I could,” she said. “Who do I need to fight?”
I leaned into her petite frame and hugged her. “You’re dressed up. What’s going on?”
“Job interview. Don’t tell Jarrett.” Her husband was in an uphill battle to keep her as the stay-at-home, doting arm candy to an ex-basketball player. “Enough about me. What’s going on? You said you were in trouble.”
I gave her a weak smile and closed the door. “Have you heard the news?”
“No, why? Is it something to do with your boss’s murder?”
I didn’t answer. I walked back through the living room into the kitchen and Grace followed me. I slid the laptop toward her. She eased into a chair and began reading the news article. When she finished, she stared up at me with her mouth agape.
“Close your mouth before something flies in there,” I told her flatly.
Grace swallowed hard. “Ell, the police think you had something to do with the murders. The hell?”
“Grace, I didn’t kill them.”
“I know you didn’t, but why do the police think you did?”
“Let me take your coat.” Grace eased out of her coat and I walked it back to the foyer. I took my time hanging it in the closet, trying to figure out what to tell her or how much to tell her. When I got back to the kitchen, she looked up at me with sad pitiful eyes.
“Ell, why didn’t you ever tell me you had a brother?”
Okay, so I would have to start with Sam. I never imagined telling the truth, after so many years of lying, could be so hard. Although with Sam, it was more like lying by omission. And telling her that she should believe me now because I was in trouble seemed like the start of an arduous journey that might leave our friendship in tatters. But I slipped into the chair beside Grace.
“I know I should have told you. I guess it was easier to not talk about him, to keep him under wraps, than to tell everyone how often I was bailing him out of jail or paying off his bookies to keep him alive. He had really poor judgment and made some stupid decisions.”
“Haven’t we all?” Grace said.
I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but I suspect it had something to do with her and Jarrett’s marriage.
“Anyway, Sam . . . my brother . . . got involved with the CFO at my company. The CFO has threatened to expose some stuff from my past. I think he set me up to take the fall for these murders.”
“Wait, I don’t understand. What is he threatening to expose?”
I bit my bottom lip and gazed at my red painted toenails. “Some stuff happened . . . a long time ago in Chillicothe. It’s a really small town in east Georgia where I grew up. I did some stuff that I’m not proud of. Things this man could use against me. I could lose my license to practice law. He hired a firm to put together a dossier on me and now he’s threatening to go to the police if I don’t go along with some illegal stuff he’s doing at the company.”
“Oh, Ellice, I’m so sorry.” Grace hugged me. “I’m not gonna press you. Just tell me what you need me to do. How can I help?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know if anybody can help me at this point.”
“Okay, so what did your lawyer think about the police questioning?”