“Do you think Bram’s the one who killed his father?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he wants to show me just how evil he is. I mean, why is this happening now? Brett’s bones have been out there for decades.” I thought for a minute. “If Bram was the one who tipped off the police, he definitely knows something about Brett’s death. But maybe he doesn’t know everything. If that’s the case, he could be using Trey to force me into doing the legwork for him. He might see it as a form of torture, too, me having to come back here and relive our childhood, knowing what I know about him now.”

I touched my scar and watched Tim’s eyes go hard and shiny. After holding it all in for so long, my need to unload on him was akin to releasing scummy water from a reservoir. I felt empty, but cleaner.

“If Bram’s holding some kind of sick grudge against you for leaving him after he did this, this”—Tim motioned to my face—“that’s on him.”

“We were best friends,” I said. “I think he saw me as the only sure thing in his life. I should have helped him fight whatever demons were setting up camp inside his head. Instead, I abandoned him.” My breath hitched. Was that the kind of person I was? I thought of Suze and what she’d said about how I ended our friendship. Even Robbie knew it fell apart because I ditched her. But they didn’t know why.

It took me years to realize Abe was the reason I was always so hard on Suze. He put a bug in my ear about her early on. Suze is trouble. Stay away. I didn’t want to believe him, tuned out his warnings for as long as I could, but Abe was persuasive. Before I knew it I was noticing her faults, too, magnifying them in my mind until canceled plans became indefensible acts, and typical teenage bad behavior seemed deplorable. Abe didn’t want to share me, that was the crux of it, so he poisoned the well. He governed me in ways I was ashamed to admit then, and that disgust me now. By the time he ran away and I got an untainted look at the life I’d lived, I was too guilt-ridden over what I did to Suze to make amends.

“He’s why I became an investigator.” I laid my forehead against the window and savored the cold as it fanned out across my skin. “I guess that makes this whole situation pretty ironic. I did this to protect people who can’t—or won’t—protect themselves, and because of that, he’s out there hurting them.”

“What makes people kill?” Tim said.

I knew the famed Four Ls, had learned them long ago. “Lust. Love. Loathing. Loot.”

“No. I’m asking what makes a murderer. You said yourself it’s in the blood. Abe was fighting demons even as a kid. Think back. Did he have dark impulses? Lie easily? Did he have a hard time distinguishing between right and wrong?”