“Itall points to—”
“You,Brodie,” he shouted, thrusting a finger at my chest. “It all points to you.”
Defensiveanger ruffled the hairs at the back of my neck as I furrowed my brow andsneered at the man standing beneath my nose. “Ye think I—”
“Killedthe American,” he finished, nodding. “Aye. That's exactly what I think.”
Ishook my head,disgustedand bewildered. “Ye're evenmore fucked up than I thought ye were.”
“Ah,right,” he snickered. “But keep in mind, man, I'm not the one fuckin' thegirl's sis—oof!”
Thewind was knocked from his lungs the moment his back was slammed against thecar. He grappled at my forearm, laying over his throat, as I sneered menacinglyinto his face.
“Ye'vebeenfollowin' me, Finley?”
“Brodie…”
“Answerthe fuckin' question!”
“Icannaebreathe, man,” he wheezed, clawing at my coat.
“Ah,just like Grace, right?”
Finleygroaned pitifully, pulling desperately. “Fuck, man, Ididnaekill her! Get the hell off me!”
“Oh,but ye think I did?”
“Idinnaeken!” he shouted, as the tears began to streamfrom his eyes. “Ididnaethink so, until I realizedye knew about the deleted files. Then, I saw herstayin'atyerhouse. Why the fuck is shestayin'atyerhouse?”
“Whythe fuck wereyoustayin' at theWhisperin' Crow?” I fired back.
Hiseyes widened, giving away another piece of his guilt. “What?”
“Yewere at the inn Grace wasstayin' at, at the verrasame time. Why the fuck was that?”
Helooked beyond me and shook his head slowly, his attempts to pull me awaywavering. “Oh, Christ …”
“Yedidnaethink I had that information, did ye?” Isnickered triumphantly, and he shook his head again.
“Itold ye, we weredoin' some construction on our housethose weeks. I was there with my wife and the girls.”
Mylips parted in a quiet exhale. He had mentioned that to me, and I hadforgotten. But could that really prove his innocence? It didn't take away fromthe fact that he and Grace had been neighbors for a time, and even though hiswife could have been a deterrent, it might not have been enough to stop himaltogether.
“I'lladmit, I did see her,” he said, and I loosened my hold on his neck a bit, toallow him to speak his confession. “We never spoke, but we passed in the hall atime or two. But Christ, Brodie, yeknowme. Ididnaekill her.”
“Ah,but ye think I did.”
“Yedon’t think what ye'redoin' looks at allsuspicious?The woman is atyerhouse!”
Ididn't want to admit it but explaining the situation I'd put myself in wasdifficult. I'd done it to protect her, and I would do it again, but I neverexpected I'd be questioned about it. Now, I looked away from his scrutinizingglare to glance into the car, gazing through to the backseat, when somethingcaught my eye.
“Unlockthe car,” I said in a cold monotone.
“What?”
“Unlockthe fuckin' car.”
“Brodie,please. Iwillnaesay a thing—”
