My head swam and my pulse ran in quick time.
“It’s now the subject of an arson investigation,” Rachel continued.
Scared, I glanced at Zach. Did his clothes and skin smell of smoke and fire? I didn’t think so, but that was last night, hours ago. “Are you still there?” Rachel said.
I struggled to stay calm. “Could it be Mallis?”
At the mention of Mallis’ name, Zach visibly bristled. I shook my head, listening hard for Rachel’s answer.
“Too early to draw conclusions.” She cleared her throat. “I shouldn’t really be telling you this, but Mallis is part of a separate and active investigation.”
“What sort of investigation?” A murder enquiry?
“I can’t say. I’m going to make some calls and get back to you. In the meantime, take care.”
I slipped my phone into my pocket, took a couple of deep breaths, another snatch of Retsina. Zach’s eyes never left mine. “Who was that?” When I didn’t answer, he stood up, hunched over, like he was freezing, and paced the room. “Fuck, Molly, you’ve gone to the cops.”
I didn’t correct him and say that Rachel was ex-police with the status of a civilian. I didn’t say that any day now he’d be spoken to in connection with the death of Drea Temple. “What did you expect? Did you think this would all go away?” I spread my hands, tried to appeal to Zach’s better nature because, deep down, I knew my brother had one. “Sit down, for God’s sake.” Amazingly, he did.
Every inch of him, limbs and skin and eyes, twitched. At the back of my mind, I wondered if I’d read him wrong. When he spoke next he dialled the tone right down. My brother could be a proper Jekyll and Hyde.
“How much have you told them?”
“Everything.”
He listened intently, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his mouth, as I described my visit to Rachel. After I’d finished, he said, “She has no hard evidence.”
My words hadn’t had the sobering effect I’d expected. “Not yet, Zach, but she will.” No point in him running away with the idea that he was in the clear. I told him about the house burning down to see how he’d react. His features slackened in astonishment.
“You think Mallis is behind it?”
“Could be, could also be our father.”
“Dad wouldn’t.”
“You sure?”
“He’s a broken man, Molly.”
I didn’t know what I thought about that. Did I feel sorry for him? Hand on heart, not really. Must have been the booze because I was suddenly assailed with self-pity. “Why did you all have to keep it a secret?”
“Because you love Dad so much.”
“Loved.”
Zach’s eyes turned down at the edges. “And you will again.”
I shook my head.
“Is that a no, or you don’t know?”
I couldn’t answer. Zach looked away, feet tapping.
“What?” I said.
Zach chewed his lip, took an avid interest in the carpet. He didn’t look up when he spoke next. “You really think Drea was murdered?”
“The blood wasn’t from the fall.”
More lip chewing. “And whoever it is,” he said, looking up with a level stare, “is on to you.” They’d been on to me from the very beginning. I was unnerved and bewildered back then. Now I was plain scared. Consumed by black thoughts, we gawped at each other. “Mind if I smoke?” Zach said in a shaky voice.
“Outside.”
He stood up, patted down his pockets, fished out tobacco and matches. “We should call Dad.”
“When will you get it through your thick head? NO.”
“We have to call someone.”
“I told you. I already have. It’s under control.”
He threw me an odd, spaced-out look and I watched as he ambled out, blank-eyed, into the garden. Draining my glass, I poured another when a bleep bleep on my phone alerted me to a text.
Lenny: ‘How did it go with Rachel?’
Me: ‘Fine.’
L: ‘Want us to come round?’
Me: ‘Maybe. Not Sober. Zach is still with me.’
L: ‘Zach?! F**k – you okay?’
Me: I attached an emoji of a face rocking with laughter.
L: ‘You sound weird.’
Me: ‘That’s because I’m pissed.’
L: ‘No argument. We’re coming.’
Me: ‘No, I’m good. Need to kick back.’
L: ‘Really? You’re certain?’
Me: ‘Positive. Talk to you in the morning.’
I looked at the measure of booze in my glass and thought I should chuck it down the sink. Screw it, I thought, tossing the drink back in one. I ought to phone Rocco. Ought to tell him about the house and the fire and everything and—
“I’ll stay,” Zach announced, wandering in from outside. To stake his claim, he plumped down and placed his dirty feet up on my coffee table.
I peered at him through eyes that weren’t focussing terribly well. “You don’t have to go all big brother on me.” Clearing the glasses and tidying up suddenly appeared to be a matter of life and death, a sign that I was fully in control of my faculties, that I could handle whatever threat came my way. As I stood up, the room swivelled. Listing to the left, I misjudged the doorway, connected heavily with the frame and bounced off. “Shit,” I said, lurching sideways.
“You need a little sleep,” Zach said with a laugh. Grabbing hold, he manhandled me upstairs.
“Don’t you feel drunk?” My top jaw didn’t seem to connect to my bottom. I had to concentrate really hard to make the right words come out of my mouth. I was fucked if I knew which order they should be in.
I didn’t hear what Zach said in reply. I was way too far gone.