Free The Silence of Murder by Dandi Daley Mackall

says. “I can find out … if you want.”
    Do I? Do I want to know?
Chase could find out. Maybe this is what T.J. meant about Chase being able to help us. “All I know is that Jeremy has got to be going crazy locked up in a cell.” I glance up because I didn’t mean to say “crazy.”
    “They have to take good care of him, Hope,” T.J. says. But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know Jeremy either, not really. He’s nice to Jer, but he never seems at ease around him. Most people are like that.
    “Was Jeremy always like … like he is now?” Chase asks.
    I frown at him and wonder if he really wants to know or if he’s trying to change the subject. Or if he’s working for his dad, the sheriff.
    “Never mind,” he says quickly. “None of my business. I just … I don’t know. Seeing him in court every day, I wondered.”
    “So why
are
you in court every day?” The question’s out before I can stop myself.
    “You sound like my dad,” Chase says. “He’d just as soon I never set foot in the courthouse.”
    “Yeah?” T.J. sounds surprised. “I thought he’d want you to be there. You know? So you two could talk over the case and how the trial’s going and everything?”
    “Yeah, right,” Chase mutters. “I don’t know. I’ve never been to a trial before. There wasn’t anything else to do, so I went. I guess once I started going, I got hooked.” The whole time, he’s been staring at his fingernails. Now he looks up at me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get personal, about Jeremy. You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.”
    But the thing is, I do want to talk about Jer. Pretty much every thought I have goes back to my brother, so talking about anything else feels like a lie. “Jeremy has always been
special
. I know people say
special
so they don’t have to say
different
. But for me, it means something wonderful, like full of wonder. That’s what Jer’s always been. My brother could sit for hours and listen to birds sing, but he couldn’t sit for two minutes in most of his classes.”
    Chase smiles. “He likes birds?”
    “He loves their songs. But I think what Jeremy loves most is when birds and man-made things get along.”
    Chase narrows his eyes. “You lost me.”
    “Like birds on telephone wires, the way crows and jays seem so comfortable on wire made by people. Or gulls hanging out at shopping malls in Cleveland because of those white stone roofs that look like a beach, but that it works out because people leave food for the birds.”
    “Only birds?” Chase asks.
    “He loves our cat,” T.J. says. Then, as if he’s just realized his cat’s not around, he says, “Speaking of which, I better see where Whiskers got off to.” He slides out of the booth and heads for the door. “Be right back.”
    There’s a minute of awkward silence with T.J. gone. I hear him in the backyard calling his cat. Finally, Chase breaks the silence. “I like dogs. Mom’s husband number two had a cat when he moved in, and he got a dog for Trey and me the only Christmas we had with them. Trey was my stepbrother … for maybe a year. How about you? Any pets?”
    I shake my head. “Jeremy and I begged Rita for a pet, but we’ve never had one, except a puppy I can barely remember. Rita said we called it Puppy. Apparently, we were exceptionally original and bright toddlers.” He makes a low laughing sound that helps me breathe easier. “Puppy ran away, or got run over, or maybe found a family who’d give him a better name. When we moved here, there was a cat in the house we’re renting, but Rita called animal control on it.”
    T.J. stumbles into the kitchen with his cat draped across both arms. Whiskers weighs more than a poodle. “She was eating the neighbor’s dog food again.” He sets the cat down and slides back into the booth.
    Chase’s cell rings. He checks the number. “It’s my dad.”He glances at T.J. and me. “Do you guys mind not talking for a minute?” He