Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(109)

“Then fate stepped in,” Eve added, “because sometimes shit happens. The missionary’s killed, mauled by a rogue lion. Nobody does DNA or specific ID, because as far as they’re concerned, he’s Montclair Jones. He’s cremated, his ashes sent back here, and that’s that. Including a plaque in the new building to memorialize him.

“It’s as somebody said to me today, bogus. Jones figured he’d done what he had to do, gave it up to the higher power or whatever worked for him. He’d saved the kid, who’s too traumatized and drug-hazed to remember. He’d stopped his brother from, as far as I think he knew, committing murder, and he’d protected him in the end by the pretense that baby brother followed family tradition.”

“He’d need to find someone willing to masquerade as the brother,” Roarke pointed out.

“Yeah. Jones knows a lot of people in that line. They go to these retreats, plus he was raised in that world. Going to Africa? It’s a big opportunity, right, for a missionary type? It’s . . . a kind of bartering, maybe. And say the missionary wants to come back one day, that’s fine. He comes back as himself, and Jones can say his brother was lost. He’s vanished. It’s a mystery, but he did his good work, and that’s what matters.”

“Fascinating,” Dennis commented and gave Roarke his smile.

“To kill in defense of another. The innocent. The child,” Mira said with a nod to her husband. “A child in his care. His responsibility. The brother, troubled, younger, also his responsibility. Yes, a man who had been raised, trained, indoctrinated to be responsible, to stand as the family head, could make that choice. If he killed his brother, it may have been an accident, a struggle between them with the child at stake.”

“I don’t think so.”

“No, you think, and I largely agree, that while the elder brother was raised to be in charge, the younger was raised to obey him. He would have stopped, at least in that moment. He wouldn’t have defied his brother, not face-to-face. But while again I largely agree, he might have been under the influence of drugs or alcohol, or simple fervor.”

“Fervor?”

“The religious overtones. A fervor to complete the rite, if indeed it was a rite. If Nashville killed Montclair in that building where he had poured such hope and effort to fulfill what he saw as his duty and destiny, it adds to the complete withdrawal from it.”

Once again, Eve sat on the arm of a chair. “I didn’t think of that. That plays.”

“The abandonment of it, which goes beyond the financial situation,” Mira continued. “The Mark of Cain—fratricide. This would weigh on a man of faith and responsibility, even as he justified it. And rather than report to the authorities, he, too, concealed. Not for himself, but for his brother, his family, and the greater mission.”

“So what, in the end he decides it was a selfless act?”

“How else could he live with it?” Mira asked.

“Why run now? That’s not selfless. That’s self-preservation.”

“Are you sure he’s running?”

“He’s gone,” Eve pointed out. “He took a suitcase and cash. He’s not using credit cards, he hasn’t contacted his sister.”

“I believe he will, contact his sister. I believe his makeup will demand that he come back. It’s his duty.”

“Well, that would be easy,” Eve replied. “Then all I have to do is prove all the other stuff.”

“To continue the theme, I have faith you will. If the girl—woman now—DeLonna—”

“She’s just Lonna now. Lonna Moon.”

“Lovely name. If she reaches out to me, I’ll help her remember. It’ll unburden her, and give you what you need.”

Two for one, Eve thought. Maybe Jones figured the same. He’d unburdened his brother of evil, and given his sister the illusion she needed.

21

Later, because they were already downstairs, she had dinner with Roarke in the dining room. Another fire simmering, another tree glittering. And some really excellent chunky soup of some kind along with crusty bread slathered in herbed butter.

“Did you ever wish for a sibling?” she asked him.

“My mates were enough. I wouldn’t have wished my father and Meg on anyone else.”

“Yeah, I never thought about a brother or sister either. It can be complicated and full of drama, right? I mean somebody like Peabody, with all her sibs, she’s good with it. Happy with it,” Eve corrected. “It all adds something for her. I bet they had plenty of fights growing up, but that’s part of it, I think. Probably.”

“Likely.”

“There’s that whole rivalry thing. Who gets what, who doesn’t think they got a fair shake, who wants more—or just wants yours.”

“Do you think that plays into it, with the Joneses?”

“I don’t know. Just spitballing. Families are minefields, even the good ones have little traps you can step into. You and me, it was what it was. It was overt and ugly and painful, and not much else. It was like that for some of the vics. Not all, but some. It’s why you’re doing what you’re doing with what’s still my crime scene.”

“It was what it was,” he agreed. “And when you’re in it, it’s just your life, however vicious.”