Brotherhood in Death by J.D. Robb Read Online (FREE)
Originally published: February 2, 2016
Author: Nora Roberts
Preceded by: New York to Dallas
Followed by: Apprentice in Death
Genres: Fiction, Romance novel, Mystery
Nominations: Goodreads Choice Awards Best Mystery & Thriller
Read Brotherhood in Death by J.D. Robb full novel online free here.
The Present is the living sum-total of the whole Past.
Justice is always violent to the party offending, for every man is innocent in his own eyes.
Loyalty to the dead had him traveling to SoHo in icy rain rather than heading home. At home he could have put up his feet—tired today, he admitted. He’d have enjoyed a cozy fire, a good book, and a small glass of whiskey while waiting for his wife to get home.
Instead, he sat in the back of a cab that smelled faintly of overripe peppers and someone’s musky perfume as it skated along the nasty street toward what he feared would be an ugly confrontation.
He disliked ugly confrontations, wondered sometimes about people who, by all appearances, enjoyed them. Those who knew him would say he had a talent for evading or defusing them.
But this time, he expected to go head-to-head with his cousin Edward.
A pity, really, he thought as he watched the ice-tipped rain strike the cab windows. It hissed as it struck, he thought, like angry snakes.
Once, he and Edward had been close as brothers. Once they’d shared adventures and secrets and ambitions—lofty ones, of course. But time and divergent paths had separated them long ago.
He barely knew the man Edward had become, and understood him not at all. And sadly for him, liked Edward even less.
Regardless, they had shared the same paternal grandparents; their fathers were brothers. They were family. He hoped to use those blood ties, those shared experiences to bring their opposing views to some reasonable middle ground.
Then again, the man Edward had become rarely stood on middle ground. No, Edward staked a claim on his own ground and refused to move even an inch in any direction.
Otherwise, Edward would hardly have engaged a Realtor to sell their grandparents’ lovely old brownstone.
Why, he wouldn’t even have known about the Realtor, about the appointment made for a walk-through and assessment of the house if Edward’s assistant to his assistant—or whatever title the girl owned—hadn’t slipped up and mentioned it when he’d tried to contact Edward, arrange for a powwow.
He didn’t have much of a temper—anger took such effort—but he was angry now. Angry enough he knew he could and would create a stink and a scene in front of the real estate person.
He had a half share of the property (as Edward had taken to calling it), and it couldn’t be sold without his written consent.
He wouldn’t give it, he wouldn’t go against his grandfather’s express wishes.
For a moment, in the back of the cab, he was transported to his grandfather’s study, with all its warmth and rich colors, its bookcases full of books smelling of leather binding, wonderful old photos, and fascinating memorabilia.