Don't I Know You? Read Online Free

living room with his head. “How long’s she been with him?” he asked.
    â€œA couple of years,” Steven said.
    â€œHuh,” he said.
    â€œWhat?” Steven said.
    He spun a peanut chew around on the table. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just surprising they hadn’t moved in together. Two years. That’s a long time.” He leaned back and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “She must’ve wanted to get remarried. Give you a real family.”
    â€œMe and her are a real family,” Steven said.
    â€œSure, sure,” he said. “But I don’t know, there was something about Phil—” He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head like a horse. “Nah, I don’t know. Like he was the kind of kid who wouldn’t bring enough to share, you know what I mean?”
    Steven didn’t, but he nodded anyway. He remembered that he and his mom didn’t matter much to McGuire.
    â€œWho were her friends at work?” McGuire asked.
    â€œShe didn’t really have friends,” Steven said. “Christine. Angela.” He tapered off.
    â€œWhat do you think of Phil?” McGuire asked.
    â€œHe’s good,” Steven said. He wanted someone to tell him where he was going to sleep, and to take him there.
    â€œWas she seeing anyone besides him?”
    Steven shook his head.
    â€œHe seemed kinda angry to me,” McGuire said. “He ever lose his temper?”
    One time he’d thrown Steven’s books off his shelf. Steven had done some drawings on what turned out to be important papers. Phil had called him a little shit. He’d apologized after.
    â€œNot really,” Steven said.
    â€œWhat about with your mom?” McGuire asked. “It might’ve been why they hadn’t moved in together. She might’ve been thinking of you,” he said.
    Once, a woman had shown up at the door when Phil wasn’t there. Steven’s mother was in the bedroom. He went to the door and looked through the peephole. The woman was pounding on the door, screaming for Phil. She had blond hair and a scarf around her neck and her coat was unbuttoned. She was screaming for him to come out, to talk to her. She was calling him a lot of things. Steven’s mother came out of the bedroom, fastening her robe as she walked. She took Steven by the shoulders and pulled him away from the door, and they both stood there in the front hall, watching the door and listening to the woman on the other side of it.
    â€œI don’t know,” Steven said. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “I’m not stupid.”
    â€œOf course you’re not,” McGuire said. “That’s why I’m talking to you like this, because I know you’re smart and you loved your mom and you want to help us catch who did this to her.”
    Phil and Detective Adams were talking in the other room. Every now and then he could make out something they were saying. “I don’t think so.” “Not that I know of.” “No.” “She didn’t go to bars.” “Yes.” “No.”
    McGuire leaned forward and put his hands on the table. They were big and soft-looking. “I’ll be honest with you, Steven. There was no sign of forced entry. Stabbings indicate more anger than guns. We got six stab wounds here. In cases like this, it’s almost always someone she knew, and someone she knew pretty well.”
    He had a kind of pained expression, like he was embarrassed to be talking about it. Steven felt like he was hearing what he already knew.
    â€œSometimes it’s about money. Sometimes it’s about jealousy or love. Sometimes, if there’s a kid, it’s about custody.” McGuire looked up. “That’s why I was asking about your dad,” he said.
    â€œMy dad didn’t want me,” Steven said. “They didn’t fight