Occam’s Razor,” Josh stated with a thickness to his voice. “When all other explanation has been ruled out—” he pointed to his timeline “—the simplest explanation . . .”
It was right there in black and white, but I refused to believe it. I shoved the paper at him and stood. “He’s our brother, and you’re only fifteen. What do you know about anything?”
Josh glanced at Jake. “He’s not our brother.”
“He is,” I retorted. “Momma told me all about him. She said he was gentle and well-mannered. That he clung to her like a monkey, never wanting her to put him down. She loved him just like she loved us. Her blood runs through his veins just like it does ours, so he’s our brother.”
“Baby . . .” I turned at Logan’s soft-spoken tone and noticed he had also stood and was looking down at my hand that was currently stroking Max as if my life depended on it. I hadn’t even noticed. Max always seemed to appear at my side when I needed him most.
“You’re wrong, Logan. My mother was the kindest woman I’ve ever met. She couldn’t have given birth to a killer.”
He lifted his eyes to mine and took a step toward me. “It’s just conjecture. Nothing is certain. I told you before I was the muscle not the analyst that Loverboy was.”
It was said too gently. Too appeasing. Too “say whatever she needs to hear so she’ll calm down.” I took a step back from him. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not fragile.”
“I don’t think you’re fragile, not for a minute, baby. You’re one of the strongest women I’ve met in my life. You kept your family together against all odds. Nothing about that is weak, but everyone has their limit, and it can cause you to turn a blind eye to protect yourself.”
“And you think I’m at my limit? That defending my brother is denial?”
Was I in denial?
“It makes sense, Skye,” Jake stated, looking at Josh’s graph. “Josh is gifted. We knew that when he was five. He sees things others don’t. Sees the world differently from the rest of us. If there’s a pattern to something, he’ll find it.”
“Jake’s right. He’s a natural code breaker,” Logan agreed. “He can take pieces and group them together until they make sense. Justice was the missing link I couldn’t see. We all assumed he died of natural causes because everyone was expecting him to die sooner rather than later. Josh saw past that fact and linked all the others until it made sense. Think about it. The killing started the day Justice died. But it wasn’t Frank who died first, it was Justice.”
I turned and slumped into my chair. “So you’re saying what? You think he killed Frank and Duke because they figured out he killed his father? Is that what you’re saying happened?”
Logan kneeled down next to me and took my hand. “That’s where the investigation is taking me.”
“And Old Rip?”
“If we’re correct, he probably saw something he shouldn’t.”
I closed my eyes. For the first time since my mother died, I prayed she wasn’t watching over all of us. It would destroy her peace, if what they were saying were true.
“Are you thinking the man who died today is also tied to this?”
Logan’s expression softened and he nodded. “I need more evidence, though. Nothing I suspect will hold up in a court of law.”
I opened my mouth to argue again, but I didn’t have it in me. The three people I trusted most in this world were in agreement, and I knew I was too emotional to argue with them. I was suddenly very tired and couldn’t think of anything except crawling under the covers of my bed. My eyes stung with unshed tears I’d been holding at bay, determined to prove to all three of the men in my life that I was stronger than they believed. I would fail to prove my point if I didn’t get the heck out of there, so I stood and pushed in my chair as Logan rose from his crouch. Then I woodenly said goodnight and headed down the hall to my room, while three sets of eyes burned into my back. Once inside, I fell onto the bed and buried my face in my pillow, screaming into it as tears flowed. If Logan was right, my brother killed at least two men who never hurt anyone. Men I loved and respected. The guilt would be crushing if it