Read Online Stephen Frey by Trust Fund - Free Book Online

was scared out of my mind, and blind drunk. I didn’t know what was going on, thanks to you. Thanks to all of that alcohol you made me drink.”
    â€œThere were bruises on Melissa’s neck,” Bo said, remembering her blood-filled corneas as well.
    â€œWe had sex. She begged me to give it to her rough. Said she liked it that way. Then she went down to the lake alone to take a swim.” Paul shook his head regretfully.
    â€œI don’t buy that. I don’t think she liked it rough. In fact, I don’t think she liked it at all.”
    Paul shrugged. “I don’t really care what you think.”
    â€œWhy would she take a swim in the lake? The water would have been ice cold in April, just like it is now. There’s a pool inside the playhouse. Why wouldn’t she have gone swimming there?”
    Paul moved to where Bo stood. “I don’t know why she chose to swim in the lake instead of the playhouse pool,” he hissed, towering several inches over Bo and jabbing one finger into his chest. “And I don’t care. All I care about is getting you as far away from here as possible so I can win an election and not have to worry about you screwing things up.”
    In their years growing up they had never had a physical confrontation, and the question of who would win still lingered in Bo’s mind. Paul was bigger, but Bo had always sensed that Paul lacked the stomach for a real fight. Paul would wage war in the political world, working deftly behind the scenes to destroy an opponent, but his appetite for a fistfight was minimal. It might mar that pretty face. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?” Bo said, shoving Paul’s hand away.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œYou just don’t want me around.” Bo watched Paul’s left hand clench and unclench. There was a large brown birthmark covering the third knuckle. “You’ve never wanted me around. I’ve always known that.”
    â€œYou don’t know anything,” Paul said loudly, jabbing Bo’s chest again.
    Bo grabbed Paul by the lapels of his suit coat, lifted him into the air, then threw him to the ground.
    Paul scrambled to his feet quickly and took a step toward Bo as if to attack, then stopped. He realized that his younger brother wouldn’t back down. He could have been Goliath and Bo wouldn’t have backed down. He forced himself to smile. “This just isn’t worth it,” he said.
    Bo smiled back. He’d been right after all. Paul was willing to wage political war, but was unwilling to put his body at risk. “You know something?”
    â€œWhat?” Paul asked, through gritted teeth.
    â€œAll things done in the dark eventually come to light.”
    â€œMore words-to-live-by?” Paul had regained his composure. “You never stop with those asinine things, do you?”
    â€œThis time the words aren’t mine,” Bo said.
    â€œWhose are they?”
    â€œIt isn’t important, not to you anyway.” Bo took a deep breath. “I once loved this estate so much,” he said, turning toward the lake. “You ruined that for me, Paul, and I’ll never forgive you.”
    â€œGet over it, little—”
    â€œMore important,” Bo interrupted, “a woman died down there on that beach. Someday I’ll find out what really happened to her. I owe Melissa that much.”

    J oseph Scully eyed the man seated on the other side of the café’s outdoor table. Jim Whitacre was the second-highest-ranking executive at Global Media, the largest information technology company in the world. Global Media’s operations included local, long-distance, and wireless communication systems as well as satellite operations. It operated the largest cable television footprint in the United States, was a dominant Internet service provider and a owned cutting-edge software developer. Whitacre was a