She wasn’t chatty. And not one to multitask. There was no staring at her phone, no reading the newspaper. Her job was to escort him to Fishkill Correctional upstate, and that’s what she did. Matt never understood why Danny, convicted of killing his girlfriend in Nebraska, was incarcerated in New York. It was his third prison in seven years.

When the chopper hit a patch of rough air, Matt thought about Tommy. On family trips, while everyone else was white-knuckled gripping the airplane armrest with even the slightest bit of turbulence, his little brother would giggle with delight. Not an ounce of fear. He would’ve loved this ride.

Matt swallowed a sob, picturing Tommy on the plane to Mexico with no idea it would be the last flight of his life.

The helicopter touched down at a small airfield in a rural area. Matt removed his seat harness and headset and followed Agent Keller out. The propellers whirled, and he ducked down in a reflexive action he’d seen a million times in the movies. Keller walked upright.

She spoke to a man in a stiff suit next to a black SUV waiting for them at the edge of the tarmac. It wasn’t her partner from earlier, but they looked similar. Dark suit, sunglasses, blank expression. Neo from The Matrix. Keller and Matt climbed in back, and the vehicle made its way along country roads until the cement fortress came into view.

By now Matt’s palms were sweating, his head pounding. The reality was sinking in.

They’re really gone.

And soon he’d have to take away almost everything that his older brother had left in this world.

CHAPTER 3

EVAN PINE

BEFORE

“Evan, I’m so glad you made it.” Dr. Silverstein gestured for him to take a seat across from her on the leather couch.

Evan’s eyes drifted around the office. The framed diplomas, the neat desk, the grandfather clock that was out of place in the charmless no-frills office complex.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call last week,” Evan said. “You can charge me for missing our—”

“Don’t be silly. I saw the news about your son on TV. I’m so sorry, Evan.”

She kept saying his name. A trick of the trade, he presumed. He imagined a much younger Dr. Silverstein diligently taking notes in her psychology class. Repeat the patient’s name often to show you’re listening.

He shouldn’t be so hard on her. She was a good therapist. And it must be difficult counseling someone who was attending sessions only because of a spouse’s ultimatum.

“So what’s next?” she asked. “Legally, I mean. For Danny.”

Evan didn’t want to talk about it, but there would be no escaping it here. “The lawyers say this is the end of the road. The Supreme Court refused to hear the case, so that’s it.” He shrugged.