Chương 10
Something broke.
Evan figured it out.
Then I looked at Logan.
“This part isn’t mine.”
Mom flinched.
“Evan.”
“I’ll deal with my tools.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
She stared at me for a few seconds.
Then her shoulders dropped.
It was the first time I had ever watched her look at a family problem and see that I might refuse to carry it.
I turned back to Logan.
“Open the marketplace messages.”
He hesitated.
“This isn’t about the other guy.”
“I’m not asking about him.”
I pointed at the cardboard box.
“I want the people who bought my equipment.”
He pulled out his phone.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
Then he opened the app.
The grinder had gone to a man in Glendale.
The thermal imager had gone to someone whose profile showed a landscaping business in Mesa.
Both sales had happened the day before.
I took photos of the conversation threads and buyer profiles.
Logan watched me.
“You’re not calling the cops, right?”
I looked at him.
He tried to laugh.
It died quickly.
“Evan.”
“I don’t know yet.”
His face hardened.
“They’re your tools.”
“Yes.”
“So why would you call the cops on your own brother?”
“Because my own brother stole them.”
Mom stepped closer.
“Please don’t talk like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like this is some stranger.”
I looked at her.
“That’s what makes it worse.”
She swallowed.
The front door opened inside the house.
A moment later, Dad came through the kitchen entrance carrying his lunch cooler.
He stopped when he saw all three of us in the garage.
His eyes moved from me to the open chest.
Then to Logan’s half-disassembled Civic.
“What happened?”
No one answered.
Dad set down the cooler.
“Marlene?”
Mom looked at Logan.
“Tell him.”
Logan’s face tightened.
Dad looked at me.
“What did you do?”
That old reflex hit so fast I actually smiled.
“What did I do?”
Dad’s expression hardened.
“I come home and everybody looks like somebody died.”
“Ask Logan.”
Dad turned.
Logan shoved his phone into his pocket.
“It’s not a big deal.”
I heard Mom inhale sharply.
Dad looked at the car.
“You get the brakes fixed?”
“No.”
“He stole my tool chest from work,” I said.
Dad looked back at me.
“I helped him pick it up.”
“I know.”
“You weren’t using it.”
I stared at him.
“That isn’t the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“He sold some of the tools.”
Dad’s face went still.
He turned slowly toward Logan.
“What?”
Logan rubbed his jaw.
“I needed cash.”
Dad’s eyes dropped to the cardboard box with masking-tape prices.
He walked over and picked up the pneumatic impact.
“What the hell is this?”
Logan said nothing.
Dad looked at the taped price.
Then at me.
“What did he sell?”
“An eighteen-volt grinder and an eleven-hundred-dollar thermal imager.”
Dad lowered the impact.
“How much did you get?”
Logan mumbled, “Three fifty total.”
Dad stared at him.
The silence was different from Mom’s.
Dad’s silence usually meant he was preparing judgment.
This time he looked as if he had misplaced the right to deliver it.
“You sold eleven hundred dollars of equipment for two hundred bucks?”
“I didn’t know what it cost.”
“You didn’t know because it wasn’t yours.”
I almost turned around to make sure someone else had spoken.
Logan looked equally surprised.
Dad pointed at him.
“You told me you needed the tools to work on the car.”
“I did.”
“You told me Evan said you could use them.”
Logan’s face changed.
I looked at Dad.
“He told me you said I wouldn’t care.”
Dad’s jaw shifted.
Neither of us spoke.
Logan threw his hands up.
“I thought he wouldn’t.”
“That isn’t what you told me,” Dad said.
“I knew you’d say no if I told you he hadn’t answered.”
“So you lied.”
“You guys lie all the time.”
Mom’s face tightened.
“Excuse me?”
Logan laughed bitterly.
“You tell Evan he’s helping the family when you’re using his money to pay the mortgage.”
Dad looked at me.
I did not move.
Mom said, “That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with it.”
Logan’s voice rose.
“You all act like I’m the only one taking stuff from him.”
The garage went completely quiet.
Even I had not expected that.
Dad’s face reddened.
“Watch your mouth.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know he paid eight hundred a month.”
“Nine hundred,” I said.
Nobody looked at me.
Logan pointed toward Dad.
“And you freaked out when he stopped because you couldn’t pay the mortgage.”
“Enough.”
“That’s why you sold the bike.”
Dad moved toward him.
Mom stepped between them.
“Frank.”
Dad stopped.
His hands were clenched.
Logan looked scared now, but anger kept pushing him.
“You guys made me think he had tons of money.”
Dad stared at him.
“What?”
“All the time.”
Logan swallowed.
“You said Evan could afford things.”
I looked at Dad.
He did not meet my eyes.
“When?”
Logan asked.
“When what?”
“When did I say that?”
“All the time.”
His voice softened slightly.
“When I wanted the better internet, Mom said Evan already had it covered.”
Mom opened her mouth.
“When I broke the torque wrench, Dad said you made enough to replace it.”
Dad looked at the floor.
“When I needed dental work, you said Evan had savings.”
My stomach tightened.
I had never known Logan heard those conversations.
Maybe I had been so focused on what my parents expected from me that I had ignored what they were teaching him about me.
Not brother.
Resource.
Dad rubbed both hands over his face.
“That still doesn’t justify stealing.”
“I know.”
Logan’s answer was quiet.
It was the first time that day he had said anything without defending himself.
I looked at him.
His eyes stayed on the concrete.
Dad lowered his hands.
“How much else did you take?”
Logan shook his head.
“Nothing.”
May you like
I pointed at the priced box.
“He was preparing to sell more.”
