Ethan’s older brother was the legal mind of the family.

While Ethan ran the development company, Brandon handled the family’s political contributions.

He spent a lot of time with the local police chief and the district attorney.

If Margaret was the fist of the family, Brandon was the shield.

He kept the family’s name clean.

I recalled a photograph I had seen in the local paper.

Brandon was standing next to Captain Miller of the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department at a charity gala.

They were smiling, arms draped around each other’s shoulders.

If I got caught on that property, I wouldn’t just be arrested.

I would disappear into a system that Brandon controlled.

My daughter was still in the hospital, recovering from what Ethan had done to her.

The doctors said her internal injuries were severe, but she was stable.

I couldn’t help her if I was sitting in a jail cell, or worse.

I paid the bill and left three dollars on the table.

I drove to a hardware store on the edge of town.

I bought a pair of dark utility gloves, a heavy-duty flashlight, and a set of wire cutters.