Murder Deja Vu

block when it came to the trial. He remembered only the impotence that consumed him as he watched his life flush down the toilet. “Mark Cabrini and Steve Yarrow, plus the other guy—” he glanced at the notebook again—Jordan Kraus. The one with an alibi—some girl who said they were together.”
    “He was a friend of Steve’s from Tufts.” Carl finger-combed his hair. “Jesus, Reece. Your attorney went over all this before the trial, during the trial, and after the trial. There was nothing there. The girl swore on an affidavit she was with Jordan until three a.m., long after the murder took place.” Carl’s eyes glistened in the sun. “I can’t see any of them killing her.”
    “What about me? Can you see me slitting Karen’s throat? Can you see me doing it again to that poor girl in North Carolina?”
    Carl raised his voice for the first time. “No. Not then, not now, and I testified to that.”
    A couple walking two dogs glanced their way. They hurried along.
    Reece turned away and waited for them to pass. “Well, I’m betting my life that someone with us killed her.” He drew a deep breath and forced himself calm. “Did you?”
    “How can you ask that?”
    “It was easy. Did you?”
    “No.”
    Carl stared at him.
    If he had, why would he tell the truth now? “I knew Cabrini but only met Yarrow a couple of times at the apartment. He brought the other guy, Kraus, once, right?”
    Carl nodded and slunk back onto the bench. “I don’t know anything more. I told the truth at the trial except—”
    “Except what you failed to mention.” Carl looked miserable, and Reece felt a flicker of guilt for being so hard on him.
    “How much would it have mattered?” Carl asked. “You never denied you slept with her that day. What difference would it have made other than to give the prosecution more of a motive? Jealous rage, that was what they would have said. Your lover slept with your brother. Isn’t that enough to make anyone crazy? It’s what they said anyway, without knowing.”
    Reece stood and circled the area. “Hurt, angry, yes, but jealousy was never my style.” How could he say that? Not five minutes before he admitted to being jealous of his brother’s life. The life he should have had. “All I know is someone’s trying to frame me again, and the investigator working for Jeraldine thinks it’s the same guy who killed Karen. I need to know where those guys are now.”
    “I only know about Mark. He’s an orthodontist in Wellesley. I knew Steve and Jordan through him. They used to come in from the vet school in Grafton when they had weekends off. They could be anywhere now, maybe in practice together. They talked about it. I’ve lost touch with all of them. Mark would probably know. He and Steve were tight.”
    “Anything else you haven’t told me?”
    Carl shook his head. “No, that’s it.”
    Reece stood, ready to leave, and patted his brother on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming. I appreciate your honesty.”
    “Twenty years late.” He pulled at Reece’s arm. “Do you hate me, Reece?”
    Reece studied his brother. Maybe there were more signs of age than he first noticed. Dark circles ringed his eyes, jowls sagged with the weight of his guilt. “The only hate I have is for the person who’s setting me up.” He looked around, checking if anyone noticed him. “I’d better go.”
    “Aren’t you going to ask about Dad?”
    Reece stopped, felt the muscles tense in his neck. “No.”
    “Come with me to see him. He’s in a private nursing home, The Willows. You remember that place, don’t you? When we were kids we used to ride our bikes there to feed the ducks in the pond. There’s an exit from his room leading outside to a patio. It’s at the end of the building, near the woods. I’ll go inside and let you in. No one will see you.”
    Reece moved toward the exit. “No.”
    “I thought you didn’t have any hate left.”
    Standing in that spot, feet welded to the ground, Reece felt as if the world had stopped turning on its axis. Would he ever be truly free? “I guess I lied.”
    “Come on,” Carl said, his voice soft, almost pleading.
    But the hurt and betrayal went too deep and ate at the root of all Reece had become. “I can’t.”
    He turned and almost ran to his car, emotion in danger of spilling out. His shaking hand wrestled the key into the ignition, and he pulled out of his parking space without checking the rearview mirror. A sheriff’s car