Familiar Stranger & Collecting Evidence by Sharon Sala

Author:Sharon Sala
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-10-22T13:26:02+00:00

* * *

Frank was jumpy enough, but when a shaft of lightning suddenly struck nearby, shattering what was left of his control and striking close enough that he ducked, he hit the ground with a curse. Momentarily blinded by the flash, he covered his eyes. When he finally struggled to his feet, David was standing less than ten feet away. Adrenaline kicked like a mule as he went into a crouch, grabbing the pistol, swinging it toward his brother’s chest.

“Hello, Frank. Long time no see.”

Frank was pissed. He was the only one holding a weapon and yet once again, his brother seemed to have taken the upper hand. He straightened, unwilling to be the one who’d first taken a defensive stance.

Rain pelted both men, running down their faces and onto the ground between them, culminating in an eddying swirl that disappeared into some underground drain.

“You son of a bitch,” Frank snarled.

David stared, trying to find the brother he’d once known in the tangled flesh of that man’s face.

“We came from the same woman, Frank. Be careful what you say.”

Frank roared. The rage came up and out of him without warning, diluted by the rain and tempered by the power of the storm.

“You set me on fire! What kind of a brother would do something like that? Answer me!” he screamed. “I want to know! I need to know!”

“I didn’t set you on fire to harm you. I was trying to hide the shame of what you’d done from everyone, including the military. Besides, I thought you were dead.”

Forty years of anger overwhelmed whatever caution Frank Wilson had left.

“Bull!” he screamed, and started walking toward David, the gun aimed right at his face.

But David didn’t move—didn’t even back up. Instead, he extended his arms to his sides, and for a moment it looked to Frank as if David was offering himself up for crucifixion.

“So...you’re going to shoot me again, are you, brother?”

Frank stumbled. “What the hell do you mean...again?”

David stared at him without moving, unflinching beneath the onslaught of the storm and the dark, ominous barrel of the gun in his brother’s hand.

“You shot first, you sanctimonious bastard,” David said. “The gunrunner’s money was worth more to you than I was, remember?”

Frank’s heart skipped a beat. His gut started to burn.

“Shut up,” he yelled. “Just shut up and say your prayers.”

“I’ve already said them earlier today,” David said. “Don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, I saw you playing Boy Scout for that old man,” Frank yelled. “You cared more for him than you did for me. I had a good thing going there in Nam and you screwed it up. We would have both been set for life when the war was over. But no, you had to play Boy Scout then, too, didn’t you?”

Anger pushed back at David, and he started to talk, raising his voice with every word until at the end he was shouting at Frank through the rain.

“You were selling our guns to the enemy, Frank. How do you justify

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