I couldn’t see his face through the smoke, but as he stepped closer to the edge of the blaze, the firelight caught his eyes. They were cold, calculating, and completely familiar.
It was Arthur Carter. Daniel’s estranged older brother, a man who had been presumed dead in a boating accident three years ago. The man whose massive inheritance Daniel had stolen to fund his lifestyle.
Arthur looked at me, then looked down at the fire separating us. He raised the crowbar, but he didn’t move to help. Instead, he reached into his jacket, pulled out a small glass vial filled with a clear liquid, and tossed it through the flames.
