Every Last Fear(7)

“I think it’s cute.”

“I want to make movies one day. NYU has this amazing film school. My grandpa, before he got sick, he said that movies are the poetry of our time.”

She turned and faced him.

“Nicholas Sparks … You ever see The Notebook?”

“Of course. The critics hated it, but it’s a cult classic. The kissing in the rain scene is considered—”

Jessica put a finger over his lips. She removed it, and her mouth softly touched his. It put Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams to shame.



Matt touched his lips involuntarily, remembering the electricity slicing through every part of him, when the door jutted open.

“Matty?”

Matt stood, taken aback at the prisoner before him. The teenage football star was a grown man. He still had the good looks, the blond hair, the square jaw. But Matt saw a hardness in his brother’s once clear blue eyes. And by Danny’s steely gaze, he obviously wasn’t happy to see Matt.

“What are you doing here?” Danny said. “I told Dad that I didn’t want—” Danny stopped, eyed Keller. “Who are you?”

Matt said, “Why don’t you sit down.”

When Danny didn’t take the seat, the guard pulled out a chair. “Sit down, Dan,” he said. It was stern but had an undercurrent of concern, as if the guard knew what was coming.

Danny sat, his eyes locked on Matt’s.

Keller said, “Let’s give them a moment.”

The guard seemed to welcome the opportunity to escape the room. Yeah, he definitely knew what was coming.

“What the hell’s going on, Matty?”

Matt swallowed, fighting the welling in his eyes, the fist in his throat. “There’s been an accident.”

“Accident?” Danny said. “What accident? What are you—”

“Dad and Mom. Maggie and Tommy. They were in Mexico for spring break. They’re gone, Danny.”

“Gone?” Danny’s voice was laced with fear and disbelief.

“They think it was a gas leak. At their vacation rental,” Matt continued.

Danny placed his palms flat on the table and leaned back, as if he were distancing himself from Matt’s words. The muscle in his brother’s jaw pulsed. He started to speak, but it was as if the words had been ripped out of his throat.

For the next ten minutes Matt watched as his older brother shattered into a million pieces, just as Matt had that morning.

Eventually someone knocked on the door. The guard poked his head in.

“We’ve gotta get you back,” the guard said. “Say your goodbyes.” The guard was about to shut the door again when he gave Danny a pointed look. “And get yourself straight.”

Danny wiped the tears away with his shirt. Matt realized that the guard was telling Danny to collect himself. It wasn’t the kind of place to show weakness.

“I’ll call you when I know more,” Matt said.

Danny made no reply.

Matt sat there, not knowing what else to say. What else could he say? Their parents and siblings were gone. And they barely knew each other.

The guard returned, and ushered Danny to the door.

Before leaving the room, Danny turned to Matt and said, “Don’t come back here, Matty.” Danny swallowed. “They wasted too much of their lives on me. Don’t waste yours.”

And then he was gone.

Keller was at the doorway and had witnessed their goodbye. “You okay?” she asked.

Matt didn’t respond. He was pissed she’d made him do this.

Another guard arrived to escort them out of the facility. He led them along a yellow line painted on the cement floor. Matt could feel the eyes of prisoners in the rafters above them. Waiting for a security door to buzz them through, Matt surveyed the dreary facility. At the far end, he saw the guard marshaling Danny to his cell.

His brother still walked with the swagger of a small-town football star. Maybe it was a show for the other prisoners. But even after all these years, he still had the same cocksure stride.

Matt’s mind went back to that night with Jessica Wheeler. His own skip in his step after he’d walked her home. Nearly four in the morning, and his smile so bright that it was probably visible on the black footpath. The path near the house where he saw the dark silhouette of his brother—in the letterman jacket and with that swagger—pushing a wheelbarrow toward the creek.





CHAPTER 5





Matt rode with his head resting on the back window of the Suburban. Rainwater pulsed along the glass.

Keller sat in the front passenger seat, cell phone pressed to her ear. For whatever reason, they didn’t take the chopper back to the city. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been driving. An hour? Two?

The SUV veered off I-87 and pulled into a Shell station. The agent driving, wearing sunglasses even though it was drizzling, got out and started filling the tank.

Keller twisted around. “I’m gonna get some coffee,” she said, opening her door. “Want anything?”

“A Mountain Dew would be great,” Matt said. “I need to wake up.”

Keller gave a disapproving frown and headed to the station’s small convenience store.

Matt’s thoughts returned to Danny. He imagined his brother in his cell, fighting the tears. What a terrible place, where any sign of emotion was taken as weakness, easy prey. He thought of his brother’s prison muscles and cold eyes.