My Brother's Keeper Read online

  Reginald Bainbridge had known his sons better than

  they had known him, though.

  “I didn’t kill her,” he gasped as he curled on his side, a mountain of a man brought to his knees. “I loved her.”

  “We know, Father,” Addison assured him soothingly as

  he knelt beside the couch and watched him die.

  “She killed herself,” the old man hissed pleadingly as his eyes began to cloud over.

  “We know, Father,” Brayden murmured as he stood by,

  watching emotionlessly.

  “She killed herself,” Reggie repeated pitifully.

  “And so did you,” Addison cooed to their father as he

  died.

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  FIVE months before the murder:

  “I’ll do it,” Brayden stated grimly.

  “No. No, I’m better for it,” Addison argued. Brayden

  looked at him warningly, and Addison shrugged and smiled at his brother. “You’ve been trying to get me into rehab for years anyway, right?”

  “He’s right,” Daniel agreed softly. The fishing boat

  bobbed up and down gently on the open ocean as they

  discussed their ever-evolving plan. “If we need him in jail long enough to get away, then he’s going to have to be pretty damn suspicious,” he continued when Brayden glanced at him in outrage. “And face it, kiddo, you don’t exactly have the patricidal air about you,” he drawled as he gave Brayden a slow onceover.

  “And I do?” Addison asked in a hurt voice.

  Daniel smirked at him and made a gesture that said the

  answer to that should be obvious.

  “Whatever, man. We have the bourbon spiked,” Addison

  went on with a roll of his eyes. “I spouted off to Seth about wanting to kill the old man every time I— ”

  “We don’t want to know what you were doing to him,”

  Brayden interrupted hurriedly.

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  “So that seed’s planted if we need it,” Addison continued in a louder voice as he glared at Brayden. “If things don’t go exactly to plan and they’re playing it careful— ”

  “Or they don’t arrest you when they have you,” Daniel

  provided.

  “Right,” Addison said with a nod. “We’ll just call Seth, make him nervous about the cops,” he finished. “He’ll give me up in a second.”

  “Are there any steps we’ve missed?” Brayden asked

  worriedly.

  “We’re covered.” Addison grinned.

  Daniel nodded in agreement. “The only thing we have to

  worry about now is the possibility of a cop who doesn’t play by the rules. That’s the only wild card.”

  “That’s a big damn wild card,” Brayden muttered in a

  troubled voice.

  “I have that covered too,” Addison assured them. He

  picked up a shrimp from the plate and made to pop it in his mouth.

  “Don’t eat that; that’s my bait,” Daniel huffed as he

  snatched the shrimp out of Addison’s hand and replaced it with a can of peanuts.

  “Gross,” Addison muttered as he looked at his slimy

  fingers.

  “Addison,” Brayden prodded impatiently, “how do you

  have it covered?”

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  Addison looked up at him and wiped his fingers off on his linen pants. “If the cop goes off the rails, we just teach him about chess,” he told them in a pleased voice.

  “What?” Daniel asked in the tired tone he’d come to use every time he seemed unable to follow Addison’s plotting.

  “Chess,” Addison repeated. “Every time he talks to one of us, we make references to the game. If he’s a smart cop, he’ll think that’s the way to catch us; play the same game we’re playing.”

  “You want us to tell him how to catch us?” Daniel asked in confusion.

  “Exactly,” Addison agreed with a wide grin. Then he

  popped a peanut into his mouth and downed the rest of his beer.

  NINE months before the murder:

  “You really think we can pull this off?” Brayden asked

  dubiously. He was sitting on the edge of his chair as Addison lounged languidly on his couch.

  “I know we can.” Addison grinned lazily.

  “Why go slowly for two months, then amp it up?” Daniel

  asked curiously. “Why not just off him right away?”

  “It has to look like we lost patience,” Addison answered.

  “Like we got sloppy.”

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  “You say this will be like a game of chess. But chess is about adapting to the moves of your opponent. What part of your plan calls for adapting?” Brayden asked in the same doubtful tone of voice.

  “Chess is about having a strategy,” Addison corrected in a slow drawl. “You adapt that strategy as you need to. But what if you already know the moves your opponent will

  make?” he posed with a sideways glance at Brayden.

  “I’m not sure how I feel about him being the brains of this operation,” Daniel muttered as he reached for a black rook and moved it slowly.

  Addison sneered at him and then leaned forward and

  met the man’s blue eyes as he reached for the white knight.

  He didn’t even look down at the board as he moved his piece.

  “Check,” he drawled with a smirk.

  Daniel’s unreadable eyes examined the board before

  looking up to meet Addison’s.

  “Daniel,” Brayden muttered from where he sat watching,

  finally relaxing back into his seat. “You’ll never beat him,” he sighed fondly.

  TWO years before the murder:

  “I have an idea,” Addison said to Brayden in a low voice.

  “Oh, yeah?” Brayden responded sarcastically as he

  poured himself a drink. Addison watched him with dark eyes.

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  Brayden threw back the bourbon and then started in on

  another as Addison sat on Brayden’s couch, watching. “Last time you had an idea you left me here, all alone to deal with this shit myself. Does this have anything to do with those psychotic buddies of yours that showed up last week looking for lost pirate treasure?”

  Addison shook his head and hummed a negative answer.

  His eyes drifted to the glass in Brayden’s hand. His brother looked larger as he stood silhouetted in the light from the French doors, his tie askew and his shoulders tense. It took Addison back to his childhood in the most unpleasant of ways. Their father had always been stressed and mean.

  Addison would do anything to keep Brayden from going

  down that road.

  “What if I could save you from becoming him?” Addison

  whispered to his brother.

  Brayden turned to look at him, his dark eyes hollow and haunted in the low light of the lamps they had turned on instead of the overhead lights.

  “I’m listening,” Brayden told him in a hoarse voice.

  Several hours later, Brayden was nearly sober and

  sitting across from Addison, frowning in concentration as Addison outlined his plan.

  “You ever played a game of chess after the king has been captured?” Addison asked him softly, trying to find a way to explain that Brayden could relate to.

  “Game’s over,” Brayden responded with a shake of his

  head. “King’s been captured, the game’s over.”

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  “No,” Addison whispered. “No, the game has just begun,”

  he said with a conspiratorial smile. He reached out to the chess boar
d that sat between them and took the black king between his middle finger and forefinger and laid the piece on its side. “The king is dead, Brayden. But the pawns keep moving,” he said as he pushed a white pawn toward his

  brother.

  “The king is dead,” Brayden echoed as his eyes fell on

  the black king and stared at it.

  “Long live the king,” Addison murmured grimly.

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  ABIGAIL ROUX was born and raised in North Carolina. A

  past volleyball star who specializes in pratfalls and sarcasm, she currently spends her time coaching middle school

  volleyball and softball and dreading the day when her little girl hits that age. Abigail has a loving husband, a baby girl they call Boomer, four cats, three dogs, a crazyass extended family, and a cast of thousands in her head.

  Visit her blog at http://abigail-roux.livejournal.com/.

  Don’t miss these books by Abigail:

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  My Brother’s Keeper ©Copyright Abigail Roux, 2009

  Published by

  Dreamspinner Press

  4760 Preston Road

  Suite 244-149

  Frisco, TX 75034

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Mara McKennen

  This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  Released in the United States of America

  July 2009

  eBook Edition

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-045-1