The Collector by Nora Roberts

so she was the one.”
    â€œYou state you didn’t know her, so we’ll stick with your brother for now. Did he owe anyone money?”
    â€œHe always paid back his debts. He’d tap the trust, or our father, his mother, me—but he always paid back his debts.”
    â€œWhere did he get his drugs?”
    â€œI have no idea.”
    â€œHe traveled to Italy last month, went through London for several days, then into Paris before coming back to New York. Do you know anything about that travel?”
    â€œNo. For work, maybe? His mother lives in London. He would’ve gone to see her. I think our half sister Giselle’s in Paris.”
    â€œYou have their contact information?”
    â€œYes. I’ll get it to you. He was unconscious?”
    For a moment Fine softened. “Yes. The medical examiner’s findings state he was unconscious when he died. Just a few more questions.”
    Lila kept her silence while they asked questions, while Ash struggled to answer. She walked them out when they were done—for now, she supposed. Then she went back, sat.
    â€œDo you want another glass of wine, or some water? Maybe that coffee?”
    â€œNo, thanks, no. I . . . No, I need to go. I need to make some calls.And . . . thank you.” He got to his feet. “I’m sorry this . . . landed on you. Thank you.”
    She shook her head, then went with her gut again and moved in, wrapping her arms around him for a hug. She felt his hands come lightly, carefully, to her back before she stepped away. “If there’s something I can do, call. I mean it.”
    â€œYeah, I can see you do.” He took her hand a moment, held it a moment, then released it and walked to the door.
    She stood alone, grieving for him, and certain she’d never see him again.

Five
    A sh stood in front of the apartment building with his hands in his pockets. Until that moment he hadn’t realized just how much he didn’t want to go in. Some part of him had known it, he decided—and that part had called a friend.
    Beside him, Luke Talbot mimicked his pose.
    â€œYou could wait for his mother to get in.”
    â€œI don’t want her to have to deal with it. She’s a fucking wreck. Let’s just get it done. Cops are waiting.”
    â€œA sentence nobody likes to hear.”
    Ash approached the doorman, stated his business, showed his ID to keep it smooth and simple.
    â€œVery sorry about your brother, sir.”
    â€œAppreciate that.” And was already weary of hearing it. For the past two days he’d made countless calls to countless people, heard every possible variation of condolence.
    â€œWe’ll go have a beer when this is done,” Luke suggested as they rode up to the fourteenth floor.
    â€œI hear that. Look, I know Olympia’s going to want to go throughall of his things. I figured maybe I’d cull it all down some. She wouldn’t know the difference, and it might not be as hard on her.”
    â€œLet her decide, Ash. You’re taking on enough—and how the hell would you know if you cull out the sweater she gave him for Christmas?”
    â€œYeah, yeah, you’re right.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m here.” Luke stepped off the elevator with Ash, a man with broad shoulders, strong arms, big hands. He stretched to six feet, four inches, had a curling mass of brown hair streaked from the sun and falling over the collar of a plain white T-shirt. He hooked his sunglasses in the waistband of his jeans, took a quick scan of the hallway with eyes of arctic blue.
    â€œQuiet,” he commented.
    â€œYeah, I bet they have a noise ordinance in this place. They probably have an ordinance for everything.”
    â€œRules and more. Not everybody can afford to buy a whole damn building so he doesn’t have rules or neighbors.”
    â€œIt’s a small building.” Ash hesitated at the door,