To Love and to Perish - By Lisa Bork Page 0,15
to ask. Instead, I tried to calm Cory.
“The news said Brennan wasn’t charged with killing anyone. It was ruled an accident.”
“But a woman died in the car crash. And he was driving the car.”
“The report did say that. But that’s all.”
“They said he was drunk.”
“Two guys probably looking for their fifteen minutes of fame said ‘everyone’ at the reunion was drinking. No one said they specifically saw Brennan drinking or drunk.”
“So why was it on the news?”
Good question. Why was half the stuff on the news? Or on magazine covers? Worse, why did anyone believe any of it anymore? Had we all forgotten poor Richard Jewell, wrongly accused of the Olympic Park bombing and the poster child for law enforcement and media excess? Funny how we can remember a rumor forever while the facts fade fast.
“I don’t know. But I don’t think Brennan intentionally killed anyone, yesterday or thirteen years ago. Do you?”
Now Cory wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Let’s go home.”
I let it go for now, wondering if Cory didn’t share my conviction of Brennan’s innocence. Did he know something more he wasn’t sharing?
We stopped for a second at the auctioneer’s table and learned the MG had gone for $17,500. I’d take it. They assured me the check would be in the mail as soon as the buyer’s payment cleared.
The first hour of the ride home dragged. Cory didn’t respond to my weak attempts at conversation, nor would he allow me to turn on the radio or even play a CD. Danny sat in the back seat of the truck with his iPod blasting. I watched the scenery go by, wondering what, if anything, I should have or could have done differently. Then all the silence made me feel drowsy. I closed my eyes against the sun.
An hour later, I snapped awake. Cory had pulled up alongside the patch of lawn fronting our yellow-sided, two-bedroom bungalow in Wachobe village. I let Danny run ahead with the key to the front door, not that he needed one. Lock picking was a skill his father had passed onto him, along with driving, hotwiring cars, and jimmying locks. A man had to have some skills, according to Danny’s father. Seeing a dead man lying in the street and being able to sleep soundly the night afterward could now be added to Danny’s skills. Maybe he had more in common with Ray than dark hair. I wondered what else Danny might be capable of.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t even let Cory drive away mad. “Can we talk about Brennan now?”
He nodded, his gaze focused on the windshield.
“What do you want to do? How can I help you … and Brennan?”
“He doesn’t want our help. He wouldn’t even see me.” A tear sparkled in the corner of Cory’s eye. He swiped at it angrily. “Why doesn’t he want to see me? Why doesn’t he want my help?”
“Maybe he’s trying to protect you. And Ray said the department wouldn’t let anyone see him until they finished questioning him anyway.”
“I could have gotten him a lawyer.”
“He’s got a lawyer. Catherine Thomas.”
His shoulders relaxed, showing his relief. “That’s good. She’s the best, right?”
“Right.” The best lawyer, anyway. I didn’t want to know if she was the best at anything else.
“What about the woman with James Gleason? Do they know who she was? Did she see anything?”
“The department is working to identify her. I’m sure she’ll come forward soon.”
Cory twisted to face me. “I have to know what’s going on, Jo. I can’t just sit here and wait. I can’t let Brennan go through this alone. You’re right. He needs help. He needs me.”
I realized the error in my words too late. “He asked you to stay out of it.”
“I don’t care. I can’t stay out of it. I love him.”
“I know.” I’d seen them together often enough to know this was true, but I didn’t know what the right thing was for Cory to do. He seemed pretty convinced Brennan needed his help. I could certainly give him the time off in the event Brennan asked for him. I really didn’t know what more I could do.
Cory did. “Jo, are you going to help me find out what’s going on or not?”
SIX
AROUND SEVEN O’CLOCK THAT night, I sat out on our front porch, rocking in my white wicker rocker and enjoying the cooler evening air. Shouts and laughter from the neighbor’s heated pool drifted over. Occasionally I could make out Danny’s voice in the mix. Soon enough