“No. Tea is it. Unless you want a frozen dinner?”
“Nope. And if that’s all you have, you need to go to Publix. You look like you’re starving to death.”
The ice was broken now. They could pretend they were friends, if not forever connected through their pasts, through the system. Both systems. He’d never believed she’d killed Josh. He knew her. In his own weird way, he loved her.
She could have had a terribly difficult time while awaiting her bond hearing. Instead, Tyler’s influence had managed to keep her from the worst the county jail had to offer a pretty young white thing.
“So. You seeing anyone?” he asked.
Aubrey froze, disguised the movement by gracefully reaching for the teapot. She didn’t turn.
He couldn’t know. There was no way he could know. Unless he was staking out the house, waiting.
She arranged the cups, dropped in the tea bags.
“Tyler, what do you want?”
“I can’t just drop in on my little sister because I want to say hello?”
“Not a week out of jail, jonesing for a fix and reeking of alcohol. No.”
She turned to face him. Tyler was unpredictable at the best of times—he could be here to intimidate or woo, depending on his mood and where he was in the cycle. Tyler was forever getting clean, forever relapsing. The people around him bore the brunt of his failures.
His face contorted for a brief second, the attack coming. Instead, he breathed in deeply and his lazy smile returned. Yes, he wanted something. He was willing to swallow his explosive temper to get it as well.
“I hear Josh was declared dead at last.”
“Yes.” Her chin inched a bit higher. “What about it?”
“There’s some serious coin coming your way, I expect.”
“No, actually.”
His eyes widened for the briefest of seconds, then narrowed, mean as a snake.
“Don’t bullshit me, little sister. The world knows all about his ‘estate.’ And the life insurance policy. Why do you think they thought you killed him in the first place? That’s an awful lot of money for a kid to take out on his own life. So”—he leaned against the counter—“I was hoping you would share a bit of your good fortune with your big brother.”
She met his gaze, the dark blue depths muddy, the bloodshot whites tinged with the tiniest hint of yellow. Jaundice. Too many needles. Tyler played the role of crippled junkie too well. It had saved him from being killed more than once; his bosses didn’t like the runners sampling the wares, but he managed to keep them satisfied enough to spare his life. They understood, with the high-grade heroin they were selling, some of their foot soldiers were bound to fall prey to the goods.
Aubrey liked to run away from everything, too, find that blessed oblivion. The only difference between them: her drugs were legal. Honestly, she understood Tyler getting hooked on drugs more than she understood the strange power he felt when carrying a gun. He claimed it was for protection. All the dealers carried. But she wondered if, deep down, he was just a walking time bomb, and the gun his easy way out.
“There’s nothing to share. I’m not going to get any money from the ‘estate.’ Daisy is going to contest and get everything.”
“Daisy. That bitch don’t deserve a penny of Josh’s money.”
“Tyler, quit talking like you’re some gangsta. You have every bit the command of the language as I do.”
Now she was needling him, and it felt good. He flushed, eyes squinting even further.
“Don’t fuck with me, teacher.”
He made it sound dirty, and small.
“Oh, come off it. Do I need to remind you of that time—”
“Shut up.” This was said flatly, no more affection, just a warning from a brother that she’d gone too far. She’d made her point. The teakettle whistled. They stared at each other for a few more moments. She poured the hot water into the cups, careful not to splash.
“You know I’m telling you the truth. Daisy already let me know she’d be fighting the payout. In her mind, the insurance company screwed up and the money belongs to her. It was her bargain with Josh when we were trying to buy the house. We couldn’t afford the payments, and he asked her to cosign. She agreed on one condition: that she be sole beneficiary of his life insurance policy, the one she and his stepfather had taken out on him years before, and she’d have control of the property in case we defaulted. He agreed, thinking once we had a few years under our belts he could go in and change everything back to me. But you know all this already.”
“Then why did Josh add so much money to the policy right before he disappeared?”
“For the thousandth time, I don’t know.”
“But when he did add to the policy, the insurance company put your name down as a default, since you were his wife.”
“And he died before he could sign off on the change to move it back to Daisy.” She smiled meanly. “Daisy was beside herself.”