Murder Times Two

. They entered the house in silence. When Daniel flicked on the lights he had an opportunity to really see his brother. Immediately his heart sank, but he tried to keep the shock out of his eyes. Roger's hair was dirty and wild, his beard ragged and oddly colored. His forehead bore an ugly gash which was caked with dried blood. Seeming to sense the scrutiny, Roger lifted his head and bravely stuck out his chin, but his glasses couldn't hide the despair in the eyes behind them.

"Got a good look?" Roger sneered, moving into the living room. He walked to the fireplace mantel where a half dozen silver-framed photographs stood. He picked one up--an 8x10 of Daniel and Sylvia. Roger studied it and gave a sarcastic 'humph,' setting it back down.

He picked up a picture of Daniel's adoptive parents. "I see no signs of depravity," he pronounced. "Look like decent people."

"I got lucky."

"You don't know the half of it." He put the picture in its place.

"I'd really like to know all of it."

"You couldn't take it," Roger smirked.

"Try me," Daniel said. "I'll get us a drink. Whiskey?"

"No."

Daniel returned with his own drink. "Let's sit." He motioned to two chairs on either side of the fireplace.

After a few minutes Roger spoke, looking around the room. "A stupid quirk of fate put you here and me in hell."

Daniel had no answer for that. He sipped at his drink, then asked, "What are you doing now?"

"Collecting unemployment. Some of your tax dollars at work. I guess I should thank you."

Daniel ignored the remark. "Before that."

Roger leaned forward, cocky, elbows on his knees, ticking items off with his fingers. "Let's see. Dishwasher, pizza delivery, pancake flipper, carnival hawker, ranch hand. Ranch hand means I cleaned the bunkhouse and shoveled sh--. Door-to-door salesman. I don't know, I'm missing a few. And, recently, used car sales." He sat back, chin up. "So you can see I'm steadily climbing the corporate ladder."

"Well, at least you've earned your way. More than some can say," Daniel put in.

Roger's eyes narrowed and he spit out the words. "Don't patronize me."

"Sorry. Can you tell me about before that? Your childhood?"

Roger shook his head. "No."

Daniel took a drink. "Well, you called me. What do you want to talk about?"

Roger looked at him squarely. "The end of your career."

Daniel was taken back by Roger's voice as much as by his words. There was no uncertainty there. Daniel stood, to gain the advantage. "You want to ruin me? Why? What did I ever do to you?"

Roger stood as well, very close. He stared into Daniel's eyes, leaning forward. His entire demeanor changed into one of a predator. "You left me," he whispered