Free Distant Blood by Jeff Abbott Page B

suppressed anger, staring at the remains of her dinner. She did not speak. Bob Don stared at Lolly with smoldering fury.
    “Leave my brother's name out of this, Aunt Lolly,” he said. His own brother was a killer? I felt dizzy. Candace bit her lip and I saw her touch Gretchen's shoulder in support. Gretchen flinched, as if burned by her touch.
    “Lolly, what's gotten into you? That's enough.” Uncle Mutt tapped his finger against the linen, scowling at his sister. Lolly didn't even favor him with a glance—she seemed determined to make dinner a wicked affair.
    Deborah stared into her wineglass for a long, thoughtful moment, then glanced back at me. I felt the tension rise a pitch in the room, as though an untalented violinist had taken bow to string.
    “Leave Deborah alone.” Sass decided to run her own brand of interference. She pushed her plate away from her and downed a heavy gulp of Scotch—not her first of the evening. “Watch what you say, Lolly, or Aubrey will make you the most interesting chapter in his new book.”
    “New book?” Lolly asked, her voice momentarily dulled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw both Uncle Mutt and my cousin Tom stiffen. Philip studied his plate as though the secrets of the ancients lay exposed there.
    Aubrey looked stricken and he wadded his napkin into a ball, his fingers making quick, explosive jerks of anger. He attempted a vague smile. “It's just a follow-up to my earlier book, slightly broader in scope.”
    He sounded like a blurb from the book catalogues I received at the library. Practiced patter, perhaps not too dissimilar to the snippets of advice he continually offered.
    “Slightly broader, oh yes,” Sass continued, her voice rising, the
s
in her assertion a long hiss. “Broad as a barn. It's all about families, won't that make it ever so much fun? And guess which family he's going to scribble about?”
    “I cannot imagine our family,” Lolly bristled, “offers much grist for Aubrey's mill. We are eminently normal, aren't we, Mutt? Always have been, always will be.” She seemed amused; I didn' t get the joke.
    Uncle Mutt made a huffing sound. “Goddamn it, Aubrey, why don't you turn your spotlight on someone else?”
    “Mom's mistaken. I'm not writing about this family in particular,” Aubrey retorted. “I'm not writing a gothic, for God's sake.” No one laughed. Outside, I could hear the cawing of the gulls as they ferreted the surf for their evening meal.
    “Hah.” Sass laughed. “Grist for the mill, that's right, Aunt Lolly. We'll see.” She poked at Aubrey with a brightly taloned finger. “Can I suggest some chapter headings, baby?”
    “I think you've had quite enough Scotch for tonight, Mom.” Aubrey's voice cooled. “Maybe you should call it a night.”
    “Yes, Sass,” Gretchen chimed in. I couldn't miss the pain coloring her voice. Her buddy and idol was drunk and behaving badly. I wondered if Sass was an uncomfortable mirror for Gretchen.
    Sass carefully set her glass down on the spotless white tablecloth and refilled it with a defiant splash. “Oh, not yet. You'll get a special chapter now, Gretchen. The recovered drunk. We're all so proud of you.”
    “You're the one acting like you should be in a twelve-step program,” Tom shot bitterly from the end of the table. “What the hell's gotten into you?”
    “Oh, I just am so proud of my boy. I want you all to know what a big success his next book is going to be, isn't it, sweetheart? Write a really big one and you'll hardly need your mom anymore, isn't that right?”
    Aubrey's face tensed in anger, his brow furrowing hard. “Mom, don't—”
    “Yes, Gretchen shall have her own chapter, unless she falls off the wagon, in which case she'll get two. And of course Philip and Tom each merit a chapter for a thorough discussion of just how different twins can be. Or are they?” The twins reacted differently: Philip with an indulgent smile and Tom with a frosty stare.
    “Let's not forget