He smiled grimly at Alan and made a well-go-on gesture.
“What did you see?” Alan said, his voice tight but under control.
“Saw you and that fat guy,” Krishna said. “Saw you rooting around in the park. Saw him disappear down the fountain.”
“He’s my brother,” Alan said.
“So what, he ain’t heavy? He’s fat, but I expect there’s a reason for that. I’ve seen your kind before, Adam. I don’t like you, and I don’t owe you any favors.” He turned and reached for the screen door.
“No,” Alan said, taking him by the wrist, squeezing harder than was necessary. “Not yet. You said, ‘Lost another one.’ What other one, Krishna? What else did you see?”
Krishna gnawed on his neatly trimmed soul patch. “Let go of me, Andrew,” he said, almost too softly to be heard over the rain.
“Tell me what you saw,” Alan said. “Tell me, and I’ll let you go.” His other hand balled into a fist. “Goddammit, tell me!” Alan yelled, and twisted Krishna’s arm behind his back.
“I called the cops,” Krishna said. “I called them again and they’re on their way. Let me go, freak show.”
“I don’t like you, either, Krishna,” Alan said, twisting the arm higher. He let go suddenly, then stumbled back as Krishna scraped the heel of his motorcycle boot down his shin and hammered it into the top of his foot.