Blood Brothers Read Free Page A

be huge. I’ve never heard of anything like it.”
    “What new product?”
    She looked at him first with surprise, and then with suspicion. “You snuck out before Karl’s presentation, didn’t you?”
    “I knew the speeches would go downhill as soon as you stopped talking,” he replied.
    She smiled affectionately. “Good answer, but you missed a really interesting talk.” She summarized the story of the hiker’s discovery and the results of Bjornsen Pharmaceuticals’ test results.
    “Wow,” Ben said when she had finished. “I’m sorry I missed that. So he’s invented brain steroids, huh? I wish we’d had those when I was in law school.”
    One of the servers walked up with a question, and Noelle turned her attention to the aftermath of the party. “The caterer says there’s seven pounds of grilled salmon left,” she informed Ben a few minutes later. “What do you say we bring it home?”
    “Brutus will love it,” he replied. Brutus was their ten-pound cockapoo—50 percent cocker spaniel, 50 percent poodle, and 100 percent terror. Noelle had picked the breed, and Ben had picked the name. Brutus was still a puppy and had a huge appetite, particularly for human food.
    She made a point of looking appalled. “No way are you giving it to the dog!”
    “It’ll stink up the fridge if we have it in there for more than a day,” Ben countered.
    “Okay. We’ll take half, and it will be gone in thirty-six hours.”
    Ben knew she was up to the challenge. “Deal.”

    Gunnar’s car would have been uncomfortably silent had it not been for Markus’s intermittent snoring. Tom nudged his brother, who was quiet for a moment before starting up the chain saw again.
    Markus was drunk, as he generally was by late evening. After a contemptuous remark from his father in the parking lot, Markus had put in his earbuds, tuned out his family, and fallen asleep by the time the car reached the highway. About fifteen minutes later, Gunnar said, “Markus!” in an irritated voice. No response. “Markus!” he boomed.
    His son bolted awake and cringed. “What?”
    “You were snoring. Stop it.”
    “Yes, sir ,” Markus replied in a slurred mixture of subservience and resentment. He turned up the volume on his music and closed his eyes again. But he didn’t snore.
    Gunnar drove fast. He always did when he was angry. Early in their marriage, Anne would urge him to slow down, but she soon learned that there was no reasoning with him when he was like this. All she could do was wait for the storm to pass and pray that he didn’t hit anyone. So far, he hadn’t.
    “Are you still planning on taking the boat out on Thursday?” she asked, hoping to distract him from his wrath.
    “Maybe,” he said.
    “Did the weather forecast change?”
    “No.”
    She debated whether to dig deeper and decided it was worth the risk. “Then why wouldn’t you go sailing?”
    He was silent for so long that she began to think he wouldn’t answer. “I think I’m going to see a lawyer.”
    She leaned over and whispered, “About the boys’ inheritance—about Markus?”
    “No,” he replied. “About the other problem male in the family.”

    The Corbins walked into their Wilmette home and were energetically greeted by ten pounds of fur, tongue, and bark. “Whoa! Down, boy!” said Ben as he tried to protect the pants of his best suit. “I just had these dry cleaned.”
    After Brutus’s affections subsided, Ben and Noelle trudged upstairs, worn out by the busy evening. Ben changed into a pair of sweats and got ready for bed. Then he lay down and let his mind idle as he waited for Noelle to finish her complicated ritual for removing her clothing, jewelry, and makeup after society evenings.
    His thoughts wandered for a few minutes, but he soon found himself thinking about the exhibition. The intricately worked gold, the weathered runic inscriptions, and the sense that he had been walking among the ghosts of warrior kings all percolated in