Val didn’t even blink. “Your point?”

“My point, old friend, is that I didn’t kill her. She went for her gun after her attacker left, probably before I arrived.

“Her killer could have exited this door,” Rick continued, motioning the rear door, “then made his way around to the front. If wearing something like a-” he eyed the other man with feigned ingenuousness “-like a rubber rain slicker, he could step out into the rain and by the time he made it around the house, he’d be clean. The rain would have washed away the evidence of his deed. That make sense to you, Val?”

Val crossed to where Carla lay. He stepped over her, retrieved and pocketed her pistol. “Poor deluded Rick. He hasn’t been the same since his kid died. Such a tragedy. It breaks my heart. It really does.”

Rick struggled to keep his fury in check. He couldn’t give Val anything to use against him. He tried another tack. “Remember that time we lifted your dad’s pellet gun and decided every streetlight in town was big game? Remember how indignant we were when the cops showed up?” Rick shook his head. “Twelve years old and we thought we shouldn’t have to answer to anybody.”

“A couple of smart-asses.” A smile tugged at the corners of Val’s mouth. “The way we talked to that cop, today a kid like that’d make my blood boil.”

“Your old man kicked your ass.”

“What about yours? You couldn’t ride your bike for a week.”

“We were going to conquer the world, Val. When I think of the way we used to strut, it’s a wonder anybody put up with us. Cocksure punks, that’s what we were. And then we discovered girls.”

“Yee-ha.”

“What happened to us, Val? We were best friends. We would have died for each other.” Rick lowered his voice to a soft plea. “When did it all change? When did we begin taking it all so seriously?”

Val’s smile faded. “I’m tired, Rick. So fucking tired of it all. This game stinks.”

“So let’s stop playing.” He looked his old friend dead in the eyes, aching for what had been-and regretting what must be. His friend was going down. And he had to be the one to do it. “Let’s stop taking it all so seriously, let’s be the boys we used to be. Cocksure punks out to save the world.”

Val hesitated; his hand shook slightly. “You can’t go back, Rick. We both know that.”

“You can,” Rick murmured, pressing his advantage. “I’ll help you. Talk to me, Val. I’m here for you, buddy.”

For a second, Rick saw the boy he had known and loved in Val’s eyes. The kid who had been so eager to prove himself to the world, to be the people’s champion, a hero.

In the next moment, that boy was gone. In his place was a man Rick didn’t recognize. “Screw that. We’re going to take a little ride.”

He meant to kill him. And there was nobody to stop him.

“Don’t do this, Val,” Rick implored. “I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, but I’ll help you. You talk to me and I’ll see to it that-”

“Cut the cop bullshit! You think I don’t know the way it works? I’ve been a cop my whole life!” He motioned with his gun. “Now, shut the fuck up and get your hands behind your head. We’re going for a little ride.”

CHAPTER 56

Wednesday, November 21

6:20 p.m.

Rick made his way to Val’s sedan, parked around the corner from Carla’s cottage. Val followed closely, the barrel of the revolver pressed to the small of Rick’s back.

Rick frantically scanned the area, looking for a witness to confirm his version of this nightmare, for details that would later help him create an accurate timetable of events-in case he managed to escape with his life. He came up with little. Except for several parked cars and a mangy-looking dog barking at them from Carla’s neighbor’s porch, the street was deserted.

“You going to kill me, Val?” Rick asked.

“Don’t be so melodramatic.” He pressed the gun more snugly against his back. “Although I suspect before this is all over you’ll wish you were dead.”

“Now who’s being melodramatic?”

“Just honest, my friend.”

Rick laughed at that. Valentine Lopez and honesty had parted company a long time ago. They reached the vehicle and stopped. “Why’d you park way over here? The way it’s raining, I would have thought the open space right in front of Carla’s would have been a better choice. But that’s right, you didn’t want anybody to know you were here.”

“Shut up.” Keeping the gun trained on him, Val yanked open the front passenger side door, reached inside and retrieved his cuffs. “Turn around.”

Rick complied. “You really think cuffs are necessary? If I ran, who would bring you down?”

The other man snapped the cuffs on roughly, then shoved him against the car. He yanked open the rear door. “Get in.”

Rick did, and moments later Val pulled away from the curb. Using the radio, he called dispatch, informed them he was bringing in murder suspect Rick Wells for questioning. He ended the call, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Murder suspect? How do you figure?”

Val made a clucking sound with his tongue. “Patience. It will all be revealed to you soon. And after it is, I suspect you’re going to wish I had killed you.”

Dammit, he needed that tape. “Playing it close to the vest, Val? Afraid I’m going to punch holes in your little plot?”

Val looked over his shoulder and smiled, the curving of his lips as cold as ice. He held a finger to his lips. “Just a little farther. And if you play nice, I won’t beat the shit out of you for resisting.”

Rick faced Val across the interrogation-room table. The other man had refused to say another word until they reached police headquarters, though Rick had continued to try to goad him. Once at headquarters he’d spoken. In a singsong voice he had given Rick the option of coming peacefully with him or being cuffed and dragged in.

Rick cocked his head, studying the other man as he readied the video camera. He found Val’s movements robotic, as if he was operating on autopilot. He had seen similar reactions in both victims and witnesses of violent crime. The psyche simply overloaded and shut down.

If he pushed hard enough, Rick believed, he could break him.

“So, what are we doing here, old buddy?” he asked.

Val finished setting up the camera and took the seat across from Rick’s. “What do you think we’re doing here?”

“Cop double-talk, tricky, Val.”

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Because you’re crazy. Because you killed Detective Carla Chapman and have formulated some scheme to pin it on me.”

Val’s eyebrows shot up. He glanced at the other officer in the room, a patrolman standing in the corner near the door. “This is Officer Walters, Rick. He’s going to sit in.”

Rick nodded in the rookie’s direction. “Listen carefully, kid. Lieutenant Lopez is slippery. Don’t let him suck you in.”

“Why did you kill Carla Chapman?” Val demanded.

Rick relaxed against the chair back and returned his gaze to Val’s. Interrogation was a kind of verbal chess game. It relied on intelligence, strategy and balls-out moves meant to keep your opponent on the defensive. “I didn’t, as you very well know.”

“And how would I know that?”

“Because you killed her.”

The other man didn’t blink. “How well did you know Naomi Pearson?”

Rick hesitated, surprised by Val’s shift in direction. He frowned. “Not well. She came into the bar a few times.”

“How about Larry Bernhardt?”

“Larry Bernhardt? The banker?”

“Is it true he wrote your loan for the Hideaway?”

“Yes, but I don’t-”

“And isn’t it also true that you met Naomi Pearson for the first time at that point?”

“Yes. Bernhardt introduced me to her.”

“And wasn’t it also at that point you learned how loan verification worked.”

“I don’t follow.”