The Demise by Diane Moody Page A

would.”
    “Yeah?”
    “My brother Mitch is five years older than me, and he’s never let me forget it.”
    Julie scooped some decaf coffee into the basket of her coffeemaker. “What’s he like, your brother?”
    Matt leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs under the table. “Mitch is a good guy. He is.”
    Julie smiled over her shoulder. “You don’t have to convince me. I believe you.”
    “No, it’s not that. It’s just that Mitch always has to be the best, no matter what the situation. The best scholar. He graduated valedictorian in high school and was voted ‘Most Likely to Succeed.’ Of course.”
    “Of course.”
    “Then he graduated summa cum laude from Princeton. Naturally, he was the best athlete—in not one, but three different sports—”
    “Of course.”
    “Yes, of course. Best sense of humor. Great personality. Everyone loves Mitch.”
    “Who wouldn’t?” she quipped.
    Matt rubbed his face. “And I love him. I do. I’ve just lived in his shadow my entire life. It was tough at times, especially in high school. Nothing I could do was ever as good as how Mitch did it. But I learned to live with it. And now that we’re both adults and living our own lives, it’s a lot better.”
    Julie poured coffee in two mugs. “What does he do?”
    “Bides his time until there’s an opening in the Oval Office.”
    “He’s in politics?” She set the mugs on the table and carefully slid one toward him.
    “No, I’m just kidding. But everyone’s always told him he should run for president. And that dates all the way back to high school.”
    “So he’s not in politics?”
    “With Mitch, everything is political. But no, he’s actually a vice president at an international marketing company headquartered in New York.
    Julie poured some cream in her coffee after offering some to Matt. “You said you all grew up in Texas. Arlington, was it?”
    “That’s right. Ever been there?”
    “No, but I’ve heard it’s a great place to live.”
    “Well sure, but of course it’s no Braxton.”
    “Of course.”
    His genuine smile seemed to warm his whole face. Julie set her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand, content just to be with him.
    Matt took a sip of coffee. “How was your day?”
    “My day?”
    “Yes, your day. Not a hard question.”
    “Oh. Right.” She leaned back, wrapping her hands around the mug. “Actually, it was rather odd.”
    “How so?”
    Julie paused, wondering how much to say without upsetting him. Again. He was so paranoid about her intruding on his investigation. Better to keep it to myself and outsmart him? Then she looked into those eyes, filled with interest and concern . . . and possibly a hint of attraction? The thought pleased her more than she expected.
    No. He needs to know. It’s too important.
    “Well, let’s see. First, I had a rather unusual meeting with Donella this morning. She’d barely arrived at the office before asking Georgia to cover for me at the reception desk.”
    “What was the meeting about?”
    “I suppose it wasn’t really a meeting, per se; she just called me into her office to speak to me in private. And of all things, she wanted to apologize to me.”
    “Apologize? What for?”
    Oops. She realized too late that she was taking the conversation back to the night she’d gone snooping at Donella’s. “Uh, well . . . okay, she wanted to thank me for the cookies I gave her the night after we’d all heard about Mr. Lanham’s death.”
    “That would be the night you stole a deposit slip from her purse.”
    Julie traced the edge of her mug in circles, her eyes locked on the motion. “Yeaaah. That would be the night.”
    Matt said nothing, narrowing his eyes as he’d done before. Thankfully, she decided it was less of a glare this time and more of a subtle warning. Or so she hoped.
    “Go on.”
    “It was actually rather sad. She went on at length about how she didn’t like me when I was first hired because