But then he stepped back. He looked from Katie to David, and back to Katie. Then David again.
“What the hell? What the hell is going on here?” he demanded. He lifted a hand. “No, no, no, wait. I don’t want gory details, I can see what the hell is going on. The question is…what the hell is the matter with you? David, hell, this is my baby sister! Katie-the man could be a murderer. Sorry, David, no real offense meant, but by statistics… You idiots!” he finished.
“Sean, your ‘baby’ sister is in her midtwenties, and capable of making choices and decisions,” David said. “And I’m not a murderer, and frankly, no offense, our sleeping arrangements aren’t any of your business.”
“The hell they’re not!” Sean exploded. He wasn’t a redhead of Irish lineage for nothing, David decided. “Katie is-my sister!”
“Sean, this is my choice,” Katie pleaded. “And David was one of your friends-a good friend, until you more or less deserted him and turned against him like everyone else.”
“Katie,” David said, grating his teeth, “thanks, but don’t defend me. Look, Sean, I care about your sister a great deal. I believe she feels the same way about me.”
Sean didn’t answer him. He turned on Katie. “I did not turn my back on David,” he protested. “I never deserted anyone.” He looked at David. “We’ve been in contact through the years, off and on. I have never turned on a friend.”
“Sean, I never suggested that you turned on me,” David said. “Look, Sean, honest to God, I mean no offense, and certainly no disrespect here. I care about your sister, a great deal.”
“And there’s a murderer loose in the city again,” Katie said quietly.
“You’re sleeping with him for protection?” Sean said.
“No!” Katie said, horrified. “No, oh, Lord, Sean, will you please…chill! Let’s get your stuff. Have some coffee-give me a minute to take a shower and get dressed. You and David talk-you haven’t actually seen each other in a decade. Talk. Don’t either of you go defending me or my honor in any way, do you understand?” she demanded.
“He’s wearing a towel!” Sean said. “And we’re not in the high-school gym anymore.”
“I have clothing,” David assured him. With dignity, he swept up his shirt and jeans-desperately glad that he had needed his phone and so taken his clothing from Katie’s room-and headed into the downstairs half bath. When he emerged, Sean had brought his bags in. They were dumped in the hall. Sean was sitting on one of the bar stools, a cup of coffee gripped in his hand.
Sean glowered at David. “So. Now a prostitute named Stella Martin has been found dead at a different museum in a similar pose. Fill me in,” Sean said.
David told him what he could. There wasn’t much.
“Danny Zigler?” Sean said. “He’s weird enough-but he’s a runt. And not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
“Danny didn’t do it,” David said.
“And you know that because?”
“I don’t think that Danny had the strength to kill with his bare hands.”
“Even if he suffocated his victims first?”
“Suffocating, you still fight. I think the killer had to be big.”
“Our size,” Sean said dryly.
“Yeah. Our size.”
Sean shook his head. “And…Katie is the one who showed you the area where she thought that Stella had been killed.”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t say…or do…anything weird, did she?” Sean asked.
“What do you mean by that?” David asked.
“Nothing, nothing.” Sean stared at David. He was still frowning.
“Sean, I have never felt about anyone the way that I feel about Katie,” he said flatly.
“That was fast,” Sean said, his tone dubious.
“You’re her brother.”
“Remember that fact.”
“Fast, slow, whatever, it’s the truth.”
“So, you suddenly love her and you’re going to give up a life of fame and fortune to come home and live the easy life of an islander and raise a passel of little conchs?” Sean mocked.
“I don’t know what will happen in the future,” David said. “I’m telling you that I take nothing about your sister lightly, and that we are emotionally entangled and not just opting for something like a best-friends-with-benefits deal.”
Sean looked away and nodded. “Sorry. She is my sister. And I did walk in to find a man who had been a good friend-and a suspect in a murder-in a towel in my house.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Katie came hurrying down the stairs. “So, do you know everything that’s happened on the island since you’ve been gone?” she asked him.
Sean glanced over at David. “I haven’t been gone for a decade-I was here at Christmas,” he reminded her.
“I’m talking about-well, I guess I’m talking about Stella Martin,” Katie said lamely. “And the past,” she admitted.
Sean let out a sigh of aggravation. “Katie, I told you to stay out of it all.”
“Sean, you’re not my keeper. And thank God-you’re never here. So don’t go all protective on me now!”