The Best of Evil by Eric Wilson

The Best of Evil by Eric Wilson

Author:Eric Wilson [Wilson, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780307550552
Google: G8tTjIhD8LcC
Amazon: B0061C1N70
Barnesnoble: B0061C1N70
Goodreads: 13534953
Publisher: WaterBrook Press
Published: 2006-01-01T05:00:00+00:00


TWENTY-FOUR

There are some secrets better left buried, Aramis.”

“You sound like you know something I don’t.”

In his Tabasco boxers, Johnny Ray stretched, scratched, then lumbered into the bathroom. I was hurrying through my second Pop-Tart to avoid his disapproving look.

When he wandered back into view, I hid it under the table.

He picked up his six-string and found his cross-legged position on the hardwood floor.

“By the way,” I said, “you did great last night.”

“Thanks for settin’ it up. Had myself a heckuva time.”

“During? Or after?”

He waved his hand in a downward motion. “Shh. Sarah’s still sleeping.”

I could feel Pop-Tart crumbs landing on my toes. I was hungry, and I needed to leave for work in a few minutes. “It’s not right, Johnny. Taking advantage of her like that.”

“She’s knows it’s nothin’ permanent. That was clear from the get-go.”

“Oh, well, in that case …”

“You missed out. She woulda brought her friend for you, Aramis, but I told her you were in trainin’ for the priesthood.”

“You’re joking.”

He shrugged as he brought his guitar into his lap.

“Well. You might like to know I’m having dinner with Brianne tonight.”

“That girl who’s workin’ for you?” It was his turn to shake his head.

“Friends. Nothing more.”

“Mmm, I’ll take your word. I wouldn’t trust her though. She’s got her eye on you.”

“Can you blame her?”

He sneered at me. “Back to your other question, about Uncle Wyatt.”

“Yeah. He’s lived here all this time, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Only found out myself a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, really?”

“He disappeared after Mom’s funeral, so how was I to know where he’d gone? The thing with you and Mom at the river—I don’t think he ever got over that.”

“How’d you find out that he was in Hohenwald?”

“He called me.”

“What? Just for fun?”

“Outta the blue. I picked up, and there he was, introducin’ himself and askin’ to speak with you.”

“With me?”

“You’d never let that happen, so I met with the man myself. Had lunch.”

“You met with him?”

“He said he wanted to spill some family secrets. Time to rattle the ol’ skeletons in the closet, he told me.”

“And you had to keep it all to yourself.”

“Who drove you to the Lewis monument a week ago?”

“You did—”

“And who’s kept tellin’ ya about the connections to our own history?”

“You have. But—”

“Hold on now.” He held up a hand and bowed his head. “Tell me, please, who set you up to go on national TV and put this thing to rest? Your big chance to get The Best of Evil?”

“You did, oh wise and wonderful big brother.”

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

“But you tricked me. Suckered me into it.”

“ ’Cause you won’t listen.” He tapped the latest issue of the Scene. “Can’t even spare a minute of your time. Just bound and determined to fix it all on your own. Been that way since you were six. You’re the strong one, isn’t that how it goes?”

“If you say so.”

“You’re not so doggone complicated as you make yourself out to be.”

“Okay. You have me all figured out. Tell me, Johnny, what do you see?”

“It’s all written there on your tattoos.



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