Scottoline The Truth About the Devlins

1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 978-1-83501-108-9
Verlag: No Exit Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 304 Seiten

Lisa Scottoline, the #1 bestselling author of What Happened to the Bennetts, presents another pulse-pounding domestic thriller about family, justice, and the lies that tear us apart. TJ Devlin is the charming disappointment in the prominent Devlin family, all of whom are lawyers at their highly successful firm-except him. After a stint in prison and rehab for alcoholism, TJ can't get hired anywhere except at the firm, in a make-work job with the title of investigator. But one night, TJ's world turns upside down after his older brother John confesses that he just murdered one of the clients, an accountant he'd confronted with proof of embezzlement. It seems impossible coming from John, the firstborn son and Most Valuable Devlin. TJ plunges into the investigation, seizing the chance to prove his worth and save his brother. But in no time, TJ and John find themselves entangled in a lethal web of deception and murder. TJ will fight to save his family, but what he learns might break them first.

Lisa Scottoline is a #1 bestselling and Edgar Award-winning author of 33 novels. She has been President of Mystery Writers of America and she reviews fiction and non-fiction for the New York Times, Washington Post, and The Philadelphia Inquirer. She also writes a weekly column with her daughter for The Philadelphia Inquirer entitled Chick Wit, a witty take on life from a woman's perspective, which have been collected in a bestselling series of humorous memoirs.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Scottoline, Lisa

Leseproben

3

It was dusk by the time we reached a deserted stretch near an underpass to the Pennsylvania Turnpike. There was nothing around, no lights or security cameras, only a rusted cyclone fence collapsed in sections around a grassy area, accessed by a service road of gravel, dirt, and stones that were bad for my undercarriage. I drove the Maserati only on dry asphalt and never to a murder scene.

‘John, this is the place? You said it was a corporate center.’

‘This is Phase Two of Knickerbocker Quarry Center. They start construction next month. Phase One is on the other side of the quarry.’

‘So how’d you end up here?’

‘We met at the corporate center, and Lemaire told me to follow him, so I did. I didn’t know it was like this until I got here. Park ahead, near the opening in the fence.’

I drove up, cut the ignition, and we got out of the car. John bolted ahead through the fence opening, and I hurried after him on a deer path of weeds and overgrown grass. I was almost through when I heard John’s shocked voice.

‘TJ!’

I reached him, standing in a clearing. There was no dead body, only dirt, grass, and brush. ‘Where is he?’

‘I don’t know,’ John answered, astonished. ‘He was right here. He was on his back. He was dead, I know it. Blood poured onto the ground.’

We both looked down. Blackness glimmered underneath the grass, rubble, and stones. I crouched and swiped the spot with my fingers, which came away gritty with blood. ‘Okay, so he was here. I don’t see the gun or the rock, do you?’

‘No. He must’ve taken them.’

‘Hmm. Odd. That would be thinking straight, for somebody who had his clock cleaned.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know, he’d be woozy, like you feel after a brawl.’

John snorted. ‘I’ve never been in one.’

‘You’re Irish, bro. You should be ashamed.’

‘That’s a stereotype.’

‘It’s a virtue.’

‘Whatever, clearly he’s alive.’ John threw up his arms. ‘Which means I didn’t kill him! Thank God!’

‘Wait.’ I realized something. ‘Where’s his car? There was no car out front.’

‘My God, yes!’ John shot back, elated. ‘His car’s gone! He really is alive!’

‘It’s the likeliest explanation.’

‘It’s the only explanation.’ John broke into a grin. ‘He’s alive, he drove away. What else could have happened?’

‘I’m thinking.’

‘Of what?’

‘What else could have happened. I’m trying to analyze—’

‘You? Analyze?’

That stung, but I stuffed it. I’m good at stuffing my feelings, though apparently it’s a bad thing to be good at. ‘How do you know he was alone?’

‘There were no other cars.’

‘He could have had somebody already in place, hiding.’

John’s smile faded. ‘Why would he?’

‘In case something went sideways, which it did. Someone could be watching us, even now.’ I scanned the scene but saw nothing suspicious. The corporate center and apartment complex were on the far side of the quarry. Beyond that was the Pennsylvania Turnpike, and the whooshing of traffic was background noise.

John grimaced. ‘You really think someone’s watching?’

‘It’s possible. What kind of car did he drive?’

‘I don’t know, a Volvo?’

‘A sedan?’

‘Yes.’

‘What color?’

‘Maroon. TJ, is everything about cars?’

I let it go. ‘Let’s look around, just in case. You go right and I’ll go left.’ I took off, searching for a body. There was none, only more weeds, underbrush, and thornbushes. The wind picked up, and brownish reeds rustled with a dry sound. Shards of beer bottles glinted in the grass, and I expected to find a used condom, but didn’t. Kids today disappoint me. Always on TikTok.

I walked through a section of cyclone fence that had been torn down, then stepped on a metal sign. danger – cliff edge, it read in big red letters. no trespassing beyond this point. Below that was a stick figure in cartoon waves. deep cold water. do not swim. I got the gist.

I reached the quarry, a massive chasm of about eighty acres excavated into the earth. Its drop was steep and lethal, and its stone walls striated with gray, black, and dark brown veins and ledges of vegetation. There was water at the bottom, its greenish chop glimmering in the waning light. I squinted for a floating body but didn’t see one.

My gaze stayed on the water, and the notion that John could have been killed was sinking in. I grew up idolizing my brother and following him everywhere, even worming my way into the dugout of his Little League All-Star team. A snippet of memory took me back to playing catch with him in the backyard after dinner, when dusk would shade to darkness so gradually I didn’t realize day had become night. Fireflies would fill the air like fallen constellations.

John would call out, TJ, time to go in!

Not yet! I never wanted to go in. It was the only time I had my big brother to myself. He was my own personal All-Star.

We have to go in, the fireflies are here! You’ll catch fire!

What? I looked around, panicky. You catch fire from fireflies?

Yes! You burn to death if one touches you. Like hell!

‘TJ!’ John called out, jolting me into the present.

‘John, what do you know about Lemaire? Is he married or what?’

‘He’s gay, single, that’s all I know. Why?’

‘I’m wondering if somebody else knew he was embezzling. Or if he was working with anybody else.’

‘You mean a co-conspirator.’

Okay, Perry Mason. ‘Yes.’

‘He’s the only accountant in the department. The bookkeeper’s an old lady.’

‘Maybe it wasn’t someone who worked with him, maybe it was a friend of his. My point is, someone else could know what he was up to.’

‘I don’t know anything else about him.’

‘We’re assuming he’s not dead because his car’s gone, but what if he was part of a conspiracy? His co-conspirators could have come here and taken his body and the gun. That could be true whether he was dead or alive. They wouldn’t want this to come to light any more than we do.’

‘So he could be dead, after all?’ John groaned. ‘I could have killed him?’

‘I don’t know what happened. We can’t know on these facts.’

‘Should I call him?’ John raised his phone. ‘See if he picks up?’

‘No. I don’t want it in your phone records. When did you arrange this meeting?’

‘Today. On the phone around three.’

‘Did you call him or did he call you?’

‘I called him.’

‘Did you confirm in an email or text?’

‘No.’ John started shaking his head, upset again. ‘Oh man, oh man—’

‘Did anybody know you were meeting him? Like Sabrina?’ Sabrina was our receptionist, who was also my brother’s work wife, but it was a bad marriage.

‘No, I didn’t tell her, I just said I was leaving for the day.’

‘Did she make a note on the calendar, like she usually does?’

‘I don’t know. How the hell would I know?’

‘Were there any messages for you when you got back?’

‘I didn’t go back. I went straight to Mom and Dad’s. Sabrina knew it was Dad’s birthday. We had the cake at the office, remember? She probably assumed I was going out for a gift or a card.’

I thought it made sense. The thing about a family business is that there’s no line between work and home, or between your business and your business. Employees at Devlin & Devlin had watched me grow from childhood to incarceration, and if I could monetize my entertainment value, I’d be rich.

‘John, so nobody knows you were meeting Lemaire here today?’

‘Correct. You think somebody took his body, the gun, and the car?’

‘It’s a possibility. Or he bounced. I’m thinking the Caymans.’

‘So what do I tell Stan?’

‘Who’s Stan?’

‘Stan Malinowski. He owns Runstan. Remember, we met him when we were little. Dad took us to see him.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘Whatever, I owe Stan an opinion letter on the acquisition next week.’

‘John, if this gets out, there’s not gonna be an acquisition. When a company’s accountant goes missing, that’s not a company I’d acquire. And I buy drug-dealer cars.’

‘No, don’t say that. The acquisition has to go through. It’s a massive deal.’

‘Look, right now we have bigger problems, and if we’re gone longer, it’ll look suspicious. I say we go home and have cake.’ Since I quit drinking, I’m addicted to sugar like everybody else.

‘What about Lemaire?’

‘We’ll figure it out. I got this.’

‘You? What’re you gonna do?’

‘Investigate. It’s my job, remember?’

‘You’re not a real investigator. Your job’s a sinecure.’

‘A what?’ I didn’t even know the definition of the insult.

‘TJ, be real. Mom makes work for you. It’s a do-nothing...