“Who was that?” J asks.
“That was my lawyer, you know, the one K got me. I guess I’m not a murder suspect anymore.”
“Hey, that’s great news,” J says, offering a fist bump. I don’t leave him hanging.
“Still . . .” I start, then pause.
“What? Is there something else?”
“Yeah but it’s odd, the lawyer kept mentioning the situation with K last night.”
“With K? What situation?”
“He didn’t say. Did K have a meeting or event last night?”
“Some meeting, I think,” J says after a moment. “Some nomination prelim for his party.”
My mind explodes in realization. I remember finding those membership forms in the storeroom. “Shit,” I say, jumping to my feet. I rush down to the storeroom, J right behind me.
I throw open the box marked taxes and rummage through the papers. “Where are they? Where are they? K, I hope you weren’t being an idiot.”
“What are you talking about?” J says, trying to see what I’m doing. “What are you looking for? Why is our brother an idiot?”
The papers are still there. But the Chromebook is gone. I step away and sit down on the floor. A deep sigh.
“What?” J says, kicking me gently to get my attention. “What?”
I look up at him. “Our brother is an idiot.”