Dennis shook his head.

You want us to help you?

The only way I can figure this out is to start with your sister. If I knew more about Debra, I might be able to figure out why her murder was different.

Gordon said, Like what?

The autopsy report shows she had a drink on the night she was murdered. Did she meet a friend after work?

The three of them stared at me.

If so, where did they meet? Was the friend a man or a woman, or was Debra alone?

Dennis glanced at Michael, then shook his head again, but now he was thinking.

We don't know.

I don't know either, and I need your help to find out these things.

Now Dennis and Gordon were both staring at Michael.

Mikie, I think we should.

I shrugged, saying the next move was his.

Here we are, Michael. You can accept what the police say, case closed, done deal, or you can follow it through to find out whether or not I'm trying to duck the blame.

Michael glanced at his brothers. Dennis nodded, trying to encourage him. Gordon's good eye was hopeful.

Our folks have been through a lot.

Do they think I'm responsible, too?

Michael nodded.

Then it will be hard.

We gotta talk.

I gave him the card with my home and cell numbers. He stared at it.

You'd give me your home number?

I believe what I told you. Decide if you want to help and let me know, but either way I'm going to do it.

Michael hesitated, maybe thinking of offering his hand to close the deal, but didn't. We were finished.

Michael went to the Mustang with Dennis and got in behind the wheel. Gordon climbed back into the truck. They drove away, leaving us in the quiet cul-de-sac.

Pike sighed deeply.

Her brothers.

I said, Yes.

Chapter 16

MY PANTS were torn at both knees, my shirt was ripped and missing two buttons, and my hands and right forearm were scraped, dirty, and seeping. I should have gone home or picked up some ice or maybe even gone to the Emergency Room, but I drove to the Best Buy in Hollywood. I bought a computer and a cordless phone for my office to replace the broken things. I would have bought a new chair, but a chair wouldn't fit in my car. The skin in front of my right ear and above my right eyebrow was tender and swelling, and the back of my head was worse. The register clerk stared as she rang me up.

She said, You're bleeding.

Tripped in the parking lot.

I gotta call the manager if you wanna file a claim.

That's all right. I'm tough.

I pressed my handkerchief on my forearm to cover the blood.