Never Die Alone

“You did a piss-poor job of it,” she said, thinking of him standing outside her window. Her cell phone jangled in her hand. Jase’s number flashed onto the screen. “I need to take this. I’ll just be a second,” she said, though Milo had started to protest.

“Hey, wait, I want to tell you—”

“I said, just a sec.” With an uncompromising look in Milo’s direction she held up a hand, saw that he’d snapped his mouth shut ostensibly to pout, then thought, Too damned bad, and turned her back on him.

“Hi,” she said, expecting Jase to launch into the story surrounding Donovan Caldwell’s death.

Instead, he said, “Zoe De

“What?” she whispered, not thinking she heard correctly. “Zoe?” Tears of relief sprang to her eyes and she leaned against the trunk of the live oak for support. “What about Chloe?”

“Not yet . . . we don’t know. Are you at my apartment yet?”

“Yes.”

“Wait for me. I’m driving. On my way.” And then he launched into a bizarre tale of his learning he had a twin brother who could be the 21 Killer or a copycat or his own kind of freak because Zoe had first misidentified Jase as the killer. She listened in shock as the tale unfolded. “. . . and so the police have narrowed it down to a couple of places. They’re checking out a cabin owned by Myra Tillman first.”

“Wait. Tillman?” she repeated, and from the corner of her eye saw Milo’s head snap up. “That’s got to be it,” she said, pieces of the puzzle starting to tumble into place. “I’m . . . I’m with Milo now.”

“What?” Milo demanded, but she listened to the story Jase spun and once he was finished, said, “Milo says that Jacob killed his sister. Never proven because he skipped town.”

“To become the 21 Killer in Los Angeles.”

“And he came back here, not because of Rick Bentz,” she said, as the pieces finally clicked together. “But because of Myra.”

True to her word, Bria

Jase tore into the parking lot, threw himself out of his pickup, and stepped onto the sunbaked asphalt. She’d crossed the parking lot to meet him and his heart soared stupidly at the sight of her. He felt the urge to throw his arms around her, to ignore the fact that the secret he bore would keep them apart forever, but, of course, he couldn’t. He had to restrain himself.

He took one step toward her when from out of the shadows of live oaks, a man catapulted himself at him. “You bastard!” the man screamed. “You killed her!”

“Milo!” Bria

“What the hell is this all about?” he demanded, grabbing the guy’s arm and pulling it around his back.

“You killed Myra.”

“Not me, pal.”

“I thought I explained,” Bria

“Fuck!” Face red, eyes bulging, Milo was forced hard against the hot front panel of the truck. “It’s just you look so much like the bastard.”

“I know.” Jase gave the guy’s arm a little tweak.

Milo squealed and his knees buckled.

“We good now?” Jase asked, feeling sweat run down his face, his adrenaline punched up. “Because I’ve had a long day and I’m itching for a fight. What’d’ya say?”

Milo didn’t respond.

“Okay, then—”

“No! Don’t. I’m good. Good.” Milo was nodding furiously. “Good.”

Jase didn’t let go.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, man, I’m sure. Look, I didn’t mean anything. You just look so freaking much like the guy I’ve been searching for . . . hell.”

Jase released him and stepped back, but he remained wary, ready to pin the guy again and call the cops. “I don’t have time for this,” he said. “The guy you’re looking for, my brother, the police think he might be at a place your sister owned around here.”

“What?”

“A cabin by the river?”

“That old place?” Milo was shaking his head. “I thought . . . I mean, I think my uncle or cousins ended up with it.”

“Deed’s in the name of Myra Tillman, owes a ton of back taxes. State’s about to step in.”

Bria

“Co

Milo wanted to argue. Jase saw it in the shorter man’s eyes.

“Okay,” he acquiesced, still scowling and rubbing his arm.

“I mean it.”

“I said, okay!”

“Good.” To Bria

“Don’t you have unfinished business?” the old man asked as he flicked a knowing glance at Bria

“Not now, Dad,” Jase warned.

“No time like the present.”

“I said, not now. Not when the police are about to take down the twin I never knew I had, the sicko who is probably the damned 21 Killer.”

“Always chasin’ a story,” the old man said, unperturbed by this bit of news, that his own son could be a serial killer.

“What’s he talking about?” Bria

Edward’s old eyes twinkled.

“We’ve got to go.” He rounded the pickup to the passenger door. “Come on, Bria

She looked from his father to him and back again as she followed him. “What’s going on, Jase?”

His old man chuckled. “Tell her on the way,” he suggested, and patted his shirt where the envelope Jase had left him poked out of his pocket. “Jase here knows all about how your sister died.”

“What?” she asked, her eyes, so like Aria

“You’re a bastard,” he said to the man who sired him. “You know that, don’t you?”

“So I’ve heard.” Ed reached for his near-empty pack of Camel straights. “But I’m go

Jase paused, his hand on the hot door handle of his truck. He remembered knocking a guy senseless with one hard punch.

“It wasn’t you, son. Oh, yeah, you hit him hard. Cold-cocked the son of a bitch. But he didn’t die from it.”

“Wait. What? We buried him.”

“Buried who?” Bria

“Tell her.” Ed lit up.

Jase drew in a deep breath. Wasn’t he the one who’d said there would be no more secrets, hadn’t he vowed as much to himself? But not like this, not for his old man’s amusement. “The man who killed your sister.”

“What?” she cried. “But Aria

Jase was sick inside remembering. “I know. And . . . and it’s my fault. Come on, let’s go. I’ll explain.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Milo said, hearing all of the conversation.

Ed chuckled again and let out a stream of smoke. “This here,” he said to Milo, “this here is Judgment Day. Oh, and, son?” he said to Jase through Jase’s open window. “That grave up at the farm?”

Jase froze. “What about it?”

“Doesn’t exist,” the old man said. “All that’s up there is an old tarp filled with rocks. You didn’t kill no one, boy. If you don’t believe me, ask Prescott.”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Bria

Jase started the truck and peeled out of the lot.

All of the ghosts of the past seemed to chase after him as he started talking, his confession as dark as the middle of the night. As she backed into the corner of the cab of the truck, listening in stu

“I loved Aria