When the door opened, there were more sets of glass doors and beyond that another receptionist. Etched in the doors was a large letter E.

“Rory had an E tattooed on his body,” Winchester said.

“Odd a guy who spent his life avoiding the family would tattoo a memento of it on his chest.” Bragg shook his head. “But then dealing with family doesn’t go hand in hand with logic.”

Winchester pulled open the glass door and let Bragg walk in ahead of him. Bragg pushed back his coat so the thin blonde saw his star. “We need to see Mr. David Edwards.”

A cool thin smile added brittleness to her otherwise flawless face. “He’s in meetings.”

“This is about his brother.”

“Rory?” She arched a brow. “What has he done this time?”

“That’s between Mr. Edwards and me, ma’am.” He smiled but a razor’s edge sharpened the words. “I suggest you go ahead and let him know we’re here because he’s gonna be mighty mad later if he finds out through the media.”

Lips pursed, she rose and walked down the carpeted hallway and spoke to another administrative assistant positioned outside another office.

“You’ve made a friend,” Winchester said.

“I’ve a talent.”

Winchester studied the modern reception area filled with lots of chrome and reflective surfaces. “Guy’s a thing for the ice.”

“So I noticed.”

The receptionist returned. “He will see you.”

A smile quirked the edge of Bragg’s mouth. “Good.”

The receptionist passed them off to the administrative assistant, another cool blonde, who opened Edwards’s door. The office, like the building, was all glass. The view of Austin was impressive, showcasing Congress Avenue all the way to the white dome of the state capitol.

Edwards, a midsize lean man, had short dark hair, an olive complexion, and square jaw. He was dressed in a hand-tailored suit, white shirt, and a red tie. Gold cuff links winked from his wrists. The family resemblance to the victim was evident. They shared the eye color and skin tone, but this man had a lean sharp stare contrasting the heavy-lidded gaze of Rory Edwards in his Texas Department of Motor Vehicles photo.

Edwards came around his desk, moving with the confidence of a man in his domain. He didn’t extend his hand. “I’m David Edwards.”

“Ranger Tec Bragg and Sergeant Brody Winchester. Texas Rangers,” Bragg said. “We’ve got some bad news regarding your brother.”

“Rory’s gotten himself into enough trouble but never enough to attract the Texas Rangers.” His tone lacked worry or excitement as if he’d spoken to law enforcement about his brother many times before.

“He has our attention now.”

A muscle pulsed in Edwards’s jaw. “What’s he done this time? And what do I need to do to make the problem go away?”

Rory’s rap sheet detailed dozens of petty crimes. Clearly a guy like David wouldn’t appreciate a brother like Rory. Bragg had gotten calls in the last months on Mitch. He’d smoothed out the minor messes, growing more frustrated with each new debacle.

“He was murdered,” Bragg said.

David raised a brow. Again no surprise registered but perhaps a bit of resignation. Relief even. “How?”

Bragg had never figured Mitch would get himself into enough of a scrape to get himself murdered. But he’d feared car accidents and a half dozen other tragedies when he’d been up late waiting on the boy.

“He was hanged.”

Interest sparked brighter than shock. “Hanged? You’re sure?”

“We are,” Bragg said. “I watched them cut him down this morning.”

Edwards rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “It was a suicide?”

“That’s what the responding officer thought at first. But it appears he wasn’t alone when he died.”

Edwards shook his head. “Rory ran with a bad crowd. Bunch of degenerates interested in their next score. I can imagine one of those clowns watching Rory hang himself and be too messed up or too apathetic to help.”

“His hands had been bound behind his back.”

Edwards frowned. “He probably didn’t have the stones to go through with it so he got help.”

“Why would you think Rory would try to kill himself ?” Bragg said.

“Rory liked attention. He’s pulled more than a couple of stupid stunts to get my attention.”

“Hell of a way to get it.”

“He was angry I cut him off.” He sighed. “He called here about a week ago. Said he was clean and sober and said he wanted to make amends. Nothing I hadn’t heard before. I’d tolerated him when our mother was alive, but after she died, I told him to clean up or go to hell.”

Winchester rested his hands on his hips. “And you think he staged this hanging to get your attention?”

Anger deepened the lines on his brow. “Yes. He knows I want to run for public office. He wanted to embarrass me. But like every other scheme he hatched, he fucked it up. Like I said, he hooked up with a few clowns and they didn’t have the sense to free him.”

“He was found in a fairly remote area,” Bragg said. “A real bid for attention would be more public.”

“I stopped trying to understand Rory a long, long time ago. Like I said, he didn’t think through events and consequences too well.”

“Do you know some of the guys he hung out with?” Winchester said.

Edwards squared his shoulders and turned from the Rangers to stare out the large glass windows. For a moment he didn’t speak but then turned and faced them. “Dan and Spike are two names that come to mind because Rory was arrested with those two idiots about a year ago. I’d start with them.”

“When is the last time you saw your brother?” Bragg said.

“A year. The night the Austin cops arrested him with Spike. When he called me from jail begging for help, he threatened to call the media and tell the world what kind of family we came from. I went to see him. Told him our mother was dying. He was more worried about getting out of jail and getting his hands on a few bucks than he was her. So I called his bluff. Told him to contact the media. He never did. And he didn’t come to our mother’s funeral.”

“What was your family like?” Bragg asked.

“Not perfect. I will admit that. My father was driven and my mother, well she had trouble standing up to him. Not perfect, but also not the worst by far. But Rory would have found a way to make us sound like a terrible mess if he could make a buck.” David flexed the fingers of his left hand. “I haven’t seen Rory since that night in jail. After his first phone call last week, I told my secretary not to put any more calls through.”

“Anybody have a strong enough grudge against Rory to kill him?”

“The person who hated Rory the most was Rory. He was never comfortable in his own skin. Believe me, he thought he could stage a stunt, and he managed to screw it up.”

Bragg pulled his cell from his belt and located the picture he’d snapped of the image nailed to the tree. “This picture was found near your brother’s body. Do you have an idea who the girl might be? The picture appears to have been taken at least a decade ago.”

David glanced at the picture and immediately his gaze narrowed. “You said that picture was found near my brother’s body?”

“That’s right. You know her?”

“Yeah.” He straightened as if he wanted to put distance between himself and the image. “Her name was Elizabeth Templeton.”

“Was?”

“Might still be. That picture was taken twelve years ago. She dropped off the radar about that time and I have no idea where she is nor do I want to know.”

“So why would the picture be nailed to your brother’s hanging tree?”

David sighed. “Rory and Elizabeth met when he was nineteen and she was sixteen. He fancied himself in love with her and she in love with him. He wanted to marry her, and when my father laughed, he threatened to run away. But that didn’t happen, of course. My father put an end to their plans.”

The E on Rory’s chest didn’t signify Edwards but Elizabeth. “How did Rory meet Elizabeth Templeton?”