“You’re not going to be able to handle this problem, Scott,” Louis said.

Scott looked at him. “I can handle it.”

“I know what you did to Kitty,” Louis said.

Scott pointed a finger at Louis. “You don’t know shit. And neither will anyone else.”

“You killed two girls, Scott. How do you expect to walk away from that?”

Scott walked behind the headstone, looking down. “Do you remember what you signed the day after I hired you?”

“That confidentiality agreement doesn’t include you, asshole. Only your clients.”

Scott looked over at his brother. “Brian, poor bastard that he is, is a client. You knew he was my client before he allegedly confessed to you.”

“What about you?”

“I am his client,” Scott said. “Privilege belongs to the client and I’m not waiving mine. And I’m sure when he thinks about it, neither will Brian. And since I never fired you, our agreement is still in place.”

Louis took a quick step toward him. “Fuck your privilege!”

Scott’s face was emerging in the light and it was near a smile. “Okay, let’s do that. How about hearsay? That’s always a good one. Or I could argue you were acting as an agent of the sheriff’s office and you had no right to talk to my client outside of my presence.”

“I’m not a cop!”

“You sure looked like one tearing my cabana apart.”

Louis glared at him. Scott’s face relaxed and now the smile emerged.

“I have one more argument too,” Scott said. “But I think I’ll wait to see if it pans out.”

“Argue your ass off if you want, I’ll tell my story anyway.”

“And you know how you’ll come across? Like the lovesick dick you are, obsessed with a dead girl.”

Louis took another step toward Scott, and Scott backed up quickly, but the smirk never left his face.

“Self-control is an admirable trait,” Scott said.

Louis drew in a breath, pointing at Brian. “How much self-control does he have? What makes you think he won’t break down again and tell a jury the same story he told me?”

Scott glanced at Brian. “Because he knows what I did for him. He knows that I’m the one who got him through law school. I’m the one who made him a lawyer. I’m the one who was always there to clean up his mess. He’s my brother and he owes me.”

Louis looked back at Brian. He looked like a beaten animal, sitting with his hands between his knees, head down.

“Blood is thicker than water,” Scott said.

Louis looked at the grass, his jaw was clenched tighter than his fist. The only thing that kept him from killing Scott was the thought that some way, some how, Brian’s confession could still be used.

“Besides,” Scott added, running his hand along the rough edge of the marble headstone. “Brian wouldn’t want to disappoint Dad. Would you Brian?”

Brian’s head shot up.

“You made a promise to Dad that night,” Scott said. “You remember? After Duvall left and Dad came up to your room? You remember what he said to you?”

Brian’s eyes teared up again.

“He told you that you could never screw up again. He told you he had made a deal to save your ass. You remember, Brian?” Scott said.

Brian didn’t move.

“Do you remember?”

Brian nodded slowly.

“And you promised him you wouldn’t. You promised him you would try harder.”

Louis’s muscles were so tense they burned.

“I did try,” Brian whispered.

“You failed!” Scott yelled. “You failed Dad and you failed me.”

Brian started rubbing his hands back and forth across his knees.

“But you can still make things right, Brian.”

Louis faced Scott. “You sonofabitch. You’re going to ask him to plead, aren’t you?”

“It keeps him off the witness stand,” Scott said, leaning against the headstone.

The graveyard fell silent. Louis couldn’t move, his eyes locked on Brian, who was just sitting there, just sitting there, ready to take the blame for everything again. What kind of man was he?

Scott suddenly laughed.

Louis turned to look at him.

“Jesus Christ,” Scott said. “I just realized something. Do either of you see the irony of all this?”

“Scott, stop,” Brian said. “Just stop.”

Scott rose off the headstone. “No, listen. Let’s say, twenty years ago, I have sex with the daughter of a cop. When she cries rape, I get angry and kill her with a kitchen knife. Her father is then assigned to handle the case of the next stupid bitch I rape and kill. But he’s too pissed at his dead daughter to do a decent job.” Scott paused. “That is how you explained it, right Louis?”

Louis didn’t move. He couldn’t believe this. Scott was telling him everything.

Scott gave a small smile and went on.

“Wait. It gets better. An innocent asshole is convicted and twenty years later, he hires me, the killer, to help him prove his innocence and sue the state so we can both get a lot of money.”

Scott spread his hands, looking at Louis. “Surely you can appreciate the irony?”

Brian was staring at his brother in disbelief.

“You talk too much, Scott,” Louis said slowly. “Brian may be protected by privilege, but you’re not.”

Scott laughed again. “Jesus Christ, Louis. Don’t you see? I can tell you whatever I want. No one will believe you.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

Scott shook his head slowly. “You are outclassed here, Louis, outclassed and outsmarted.”

“Fuck you, Scott,” Louis snapped.

He spun away, drawing on every ounce of strength he had. He started walking.

“Louis! Where you going?” Scott called out.

“To the sheriff’s office.”

“To do what? We’ll deny everything. We were never here and we never talked to you.”

Louis spun back. “I’ll kill you before I let you get away with this!” he shouted.

Scott laughed, coming toward him. “Jesus, Louis, I think you’re more hung up on her than Brian was.”

Louis turned away. Don’t do it. . keep walking. . don’t do it.

Scott came up behind him. “Let it go, Louis,” he said softly. “She wasn’t all that good.”

Louis spun and hit him, hard and quick. Scott stumbled backward, but Louis came at him again, taking another swing and connecting solidly against Scott’s jaw.

Scott stumbled again, grabbing onto a headstone to keep his balance. He wiped his lip, looking back at Louis.

“Feel better now?” Scott asked.

Louis hit him again, sending Scott toppling over a stone bench. Scott sat on the grass, looking down at the blood on his hand.

“Get up!” Louis shouted.

Scott didn’t move and Louis stepped forward, dragging him to his feet by his lapels. Louis slugged Scott again, but before he could fall, Louis grabbed his suit coat to keep him upright.

When he was steady, Louis hit him again, then again, each punch driving him backward over a small rise in the grass. Louis could hear someone yelling in the background-Brian, yelling Scott’s name.

Scott threw up his hands, choking, his face smeared with his own blood.

“Enough. . enough,” Scott gasped.

“It’s nowhere near enough!”

Louis stepped into another punch, this time knocking Scott to the grass, where he sat huddled, his bloody hand on his mouth. Behind him Louis could see the backhoe that sat near Kitty’s open grave.

He looked back at Scott. “Get the fuck up.”

Scott shook his head, holding up a hand.

Louis grabbed Scott’s coat and started dragging him toward the open grave. Scott fought to twist loose, cursing as he tried to untangle himself from his suit coat.

“You’re going in the ground, you sonofabitch,” Louis said, jerking him toward the grave.

Brian was following slowly, his mouth moving, but Louis couldn’t hear him.

Scott saw the open grave and for the first time, his face registered fear. He began to struggle harder to get out of Louis’s grip.

Louis dragged him closer. Scott was screaming now, and Brian’s voice was somewhere in the background.