Beast in the Tower. Julie Miller
Kit suspected her brother’s loud snore had been a ruse to keep her from asking any questions. Granting them both a couple hours of peace, she’d turned off the bedside lamp, planted a kiss on his cheek and silently promised that once she got a little rest and felt slightly more human, a conversation was going to happen.
Welcome to slightly more human.
“I was at the hospital.” Needing something with a little more crunch to sustain her, Kit carried her bowl to the sink and reached for an apple from the basket of fruit on the counter. Kit hissed at the pain that stabbed through her shoulder, and quickly pulled her arm back to her side. “Wow.”
“Kit? You okay?” Was that concern she heard in Matt’s voice? When she turned around, she caught a glimpse of the sweet baby brother she’d once been so close to. But his I-don’t-give-a-damn mask slipped back into place before she could relish the connection. He stuffed a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and chewed around the matter-of-fact question. “Did you get hurt?”
The fist-size bruise that had turned her right collar bone and shoulder joint an ugly shade of purple was apparently going to limit her flexibility for the next few days. But, like the other bumps and aches on her body, it wasn’t going to stop her from looking out for her brother and taking care of the business that needed to be handled today.
“I wasn’t the patient.” She purposefully gritted her teeth and picked up an apple before pulling out a paring knife and returning to the table. She offered Matt the first wedge of fruit. “Want some?”
“I’m good.”
Fine. Don’t even let me feed you. Kit popped the apple slice into her mouth and continued carving. “Actually, I was there for a neighbor of ours. Helen Hodges?”
Matt downed the last of his milk. “The old lady who lives upstairs?”
Surprise, surprise. “You know her?”
“Not really.” When he started to leave the kitchen, Kit reminded him to rinse his dishes and put them in the dishwasher. With a grunt of acquiescence he went to the sink and did as she asked. “I bussed her table a couple of times when she was in the diner. She slipped me a tip because she said the waitresses don’t always share with the guys who clear the tables.”
“She gave you money?”
“Yeah. Twenty bucks one time. I guess she had it to spare. She said to use it for school or to put gas in my car.” Matt turned and rolled his eyes, reminding Kit what a touchy subject that was. “If I had one.”
“I’m sorry that putting off buying a car is a sacrifice we had to make. I figured it was more important to keep a roof over your head. You know you can borrow mine if something important comes up. In the meantime, I’m saving, you’re saving—”
“When, Kit?”
“It’s not that big a hardship to be without a car right now. You work right here, you take the bus to school—”
“What about when I go to college? I’m not taking the bus to California.”
Kit counted off a couple of beats so she wouldn’t jump at the topic. “Are you still planning to go?” She counted off two more before pointing out, “If you don’t get your grades back up this semester, you’ll probably lose your scholarship. And you can’t raise those grades if you’re out all hours of the night and missing classes and not getting your work done. You’ve got a real gift, Matt, as smart as you are. I hate to see you throwing it all away.”
No comment.
She stuck the knife into the core of the apple to keep it safely away from her tense fingers. She had to ask. “Where were you last night? Say, after midnight? Two hours past when I asked you to be home?”
Matt’s to-hell-with-it grin warned her she wasn’t going to get any useful answers. “With friends.”
“What friends?”
“You wouldn’t know them.”
“I should. Invite them over sometime.”
“To do what? Wash dishes?”
“They could eat. I’d be happy to feed them.” Kit rose and joined him at the sink. “I thought you liked doing those fix-it projects around the apartment and diner. Do any of your friends enjoy tearing things apart and rebuilding them the way you do?”
He rolled his eyes. “Right. I’m gonna invite someone over to fix the toaster.”
She had to give him that one. “Okay, so that wouldn’t be my first choice for a fun night out, either. What sorts of things do you do with these friends I don’t know?”
“Play games, mostly.”
“Where?”
He slammed the door of the dishwasher shut. “Dammit, Kit, Mom and Dad never grilled me like this!”
She flinched at his burst of temper, but swallowed hard to keep her cool. That was pain she saw in the tight press of his mouth. The angry glare in his eyes was just the mask that couldn’t quite hide the truth. She wanted to reach up and touch his scruffy cheek. But somehow she had become the enemy and she wasn’t sure her comfort would be welcomed, so she stuck her fists down into the pockets of her robe instead. “They had seventeen years’ experience taking care of you—I’m new at this. I’m doing my best. I wish you’d help me, not work against me. You never acted like this when Mom and Dad were around.”
“Yeah, well, they’re not here, are they?” He scowled down at her.
“The diner is our home—”
“This place killed them!” He raked his fingers through his permanently unruly hair and stalked across the room. “You don’t know what it was like. You weren’t here to see them…like that. They were trapped. All the exits were blocked. There was nothing they could do but die.”
“Matt.” Enemy or not, Kit hurried across the room and wrapped her arms around his waist. He stiffly refused to respond, but when he didn’t pull away, Kit held on. “It was a terrible loss, a tragic accident. But it wasn’t anybody’s fault. I promise you, those smoke alarms and CO2 detectors you installed will give us all the warning we need. And Mr. Kronemeyer’s crew is putting sprinkler systems throughout the building. We’ll be perfectly safe.”
With a scoffing laugh, he pulled away. “A few gadgets won’t make things right. Haven’t you noticed things have changed since we were kids? You were gone for six years, sis. This isn’t the same place you left behind.”
“I know the neighborhood has gone downhill. But there are still good people here. You have to believe in that.” She wanted him to believe in her, in them. “It will never be the same without Mom and Dad. But you and I are still a family. We have to talk to each other. We need to be able to trust each other.”
“I need to get to school.”
Cinching the pink chenille tie tighter around her waist, Kit followed him to the back door where he shrugged into a sheepskin coat with frayed sleeves that were too short for his arms. “Where’s your new coat? The Chiefs jacket I gave you for Christmas?”
“Don’t know.”
“You don’t know? I spent a small fortune on that thing. It was what you wanted.” I know, I know. “Besides a car. So what happened to it?”
He hauled his book bag up onto his shoulder. “I’ll get it back.”
“That’s not what I asked.” She pulled the knit scarf he’d left behind off its hook and looped it around his neck. “Matt, last night Helen Hodges was attacked in the alley. The man who hurt her was wearing a red-and-gold Chiefs parka.”
He shooed her hands away. “So now you think I’m beating up old ladies in the alley?”
She hated to admit that, for a split second, the possibility had crossed her mind