19
Bring my brother on a gig?
“Not a chance.” I wouldn’t care if the funeral home parking lot was full of people, I’m gonna say it loudly enough that even Will gets it.
There is no way I’m taking Will. He’s a drunk. I can smell the bourbon seeping through his skin. He’s carrying an extra fifty, eighty pounds. If you can’t drink it or sleep with it, he pisses on it.
I’m angry, yes. Furious. I need Deke to settle me down enough to think, and think hard, about how to find Father’s killer and figure out who left the note, but I don’t need Will elephanting around behind me.
“What are you going to do?” Will sneers. “Use them fancy corporate troubleshooter skills? Come in and tell the workers to lift with their backs? Hire a private dee-tective?”
My mouth opens to shout out what I do, what
