Jason looked at me strangely after that. He didn’t answer my question, but poured whiskey into shot glasses. “You’re a sharp kid, Gibby. Let’s drink to that.”

He handed me a whiskey. It burned going down.

“So why are you here?” he asked.

“I think maybe Tyra’s dead.”

“Bullshit.”

“Seriously.”

He was unconvinced, so I told him how Tyra had gone missing, and how Martinez and Smith had rolled up to the condo, hot, distrustful, and angry as hell. That led to a description of Dad and Burklow, of how they’d rolled up the same way, bundled me into a car, and argued, later, about things they did not want me to hear. “Murder cops,” I said. “All four of them. It has to mean something. I think it means that Tyra’s dead.”

I’d hoped to see his face in an unguarded moment. Instead, I got a raised eyebrow as he poured another whiskey. “None of that means Tyra is dead. It could mean anything.”

“I don’t know, man. They were arguing hard, and Dad looked pretty scared. He’s looking for you, too. I thought you should know as soon as possible.”

“That’s why you’re here?” Jason frowned, and lowered the whiskey, untouched. “Why, exactly, do you think I should know something like that as soon as possible?”

“You know, in case they show up here.”

“You could have told me on the phone.”

“You’re my brother. I wanted to come.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed, and the frown deepened. Standing abruptly, he checked the street, left and right. “You should have stayed home, Gibby.” He closed the blinds; checked the stairwell. “These people. This place…”

“Are you angry?”

“Only with myself.” He snatched a duffel bag from the closet, stuffing in clothes. “This is a dangerous place. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I can handle myself.”

“No, you really can’t.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Listen, kid. You think you know me, but you don’t. You want to be in my life, and I think that’s cool. I wanted to be in your life, too, but I’ll drag you down, you give me half a chance. I see that, now. Hell, I’ve already done it. Tyra. The cops. I mean, damn. If they raided this place right now, with you here…” He pinned me with those cold, bright eyes. “You should be hanging out with Chance or some other kid or that pretty girl from the quarry. That’s your life, and I should have left you in it.” He tossed the bag on the bed. “I shouldn’t have come home at all.”

“I can help you. Whatever this is…”

“Jesus, kid. You won’t listen!”

He stormed across the room, and I followed him. “What are you doing?”