They’d found the gun. Could Alex have been responsible for that, too?

When Hank turned into the parking lot, I met him at the curb. I climbed into his sedan. He neither looked at me nor spoke. He turned left out of the parking lot, made several seemingly random turns, and then stopped at the curb. We were in a residential neighborhood. It was quiet, nobody in sight. Hank stared wordlessly through the windshield.

“I’m waiting for you to speak,” he finally said, looking at me.

“What do you mean?”

His face was hard; so were his eyes. When he spoke, I found that his voice had chilled, as well. “What river? What gun? Those are the questions you should have asked. It concerns me that you did not ask those questions.”

I didn’t know what to say. He was right. An innocent man would have asked the questions.

“I didn’t kill him, Hank.”

“Tell me about the gun.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” The lie came instinctively.

“You don’t have many people in your corner, Work, and you’re about to be all alone. I don’t help people who lie to me; it’s that simple. So you take a minute, and think about the next words that come out of your mouth.”

I’d never seen Hank so tense, like he could punch me in the face or rip his own hair out. But it was more than anger. He felt betrayed, and I couldn’t blame him.

If Jean hadn’t pulled the trigger, then I had no reason to lie about the gun. In fact, I should want the police to have it, if that would help convict Alex. But I’d wiped it down and ditched it, a crime in and of itself. Yet all that mattered right now was finding Vanessa, and if Hank could help me do that, then I would tell him anything he wanted to know. I had one question first.

“How’d they find the gun?”

Hank looked like he was about to drive off and leave me, so I spoke again.

“Swear to God, Hank. Just tell me that and I’ll answer your questions.”

He seemed to mull it over. “Someone called in an anonymous tip, said that they’d seen someone toss a gun into the river. A diver from the sheriff’s department went down this morning and found it right where the caller said it’d be. That was about an hour ago. They know it’s Ezra’s gun because it has his initials right there on it.”

“Do they know who made the call?” I was thinking about Alex. She would have had to know that the gun was clean before she’d do something like that. She would not want it traced back to her.

“The guy didn’t identify himself, but he described someone who looks a hell of a lot like you. Same build, same age, same hair, same car. They’re trying to track him down to do a lineup. If they find him, you’ll be the first to know. Mills will have you downtown so fast, your head will spin. And if he identifies you, that’s it; you’re as good as convicted.”

“It was a guy?” I asked. “The caller?”

“Didn’t you hear me? They’re trying to link you to the gun.”

“But the caller. It was a man?”

Not a woman?

“Look. That’s what I heard, okay? It’s not like I was on the phone. I heard it was a guy. Now tell me about the fucking gun. I don’t want to ask again.”

I scrutinized his features. He wanted me to be innocent; not because he liked me, although I thought that maybe he did, but because he did not want to be wrong, not about something like this. Hank Robins would never help a killer, and, like everybody, he hated to be played.

“You want to know why I ditched the gun if I didn’t kill him.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

So I opened my mouth. I started talking and didn’t stop until I’d explained it to him. He didn’t say a word until I was through.

“So, you were going to take the heat for Jean.”

I nodded.

“That’s why you ditched the gun.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me again why you thought that Jean had pulled the trigger.”

I’d been vague about this. No way could I discuss the night Mom died, not with Hank or anybody else. I didn’t know if he’d accept my theory without understanding what could have driven my sister to murder, but that was the chance I’d have to take. That body was buried, and I meant for it to stay that way.

“Jean has not been well, mentally, for a long time now. She and Ezra had problems.”

“Hmmm,” Hank said, and I knew that I was losing him. “Problems.”

“It’s a family matter, Hank. I can’t talk about it. You can believe me or not. Help me or not. But that’s all I can say about it.”

He was silent for a full minute. He didn’t look away from my face, and I could almost see the wheels turning.

“There’s a lot you’re not telling me.”

“Yes. But like I said, it’s family stuff.” I hesitated. I didn’t want to beg but knew that I was close. “I didn’t kill him, Hank. He was deceitful, arrogant, and a first-class bastard. All right. I admit that. But he was my old man. I could have beaten him bloody on any number of occasions, but I could never have killed him. You’ve got to believe me.”

“And the fifteen million dollars?” Hank asked, doubt again clouding his features.

“I’ve never cared about making money,” I said.

Hank raised an eyebrow at me. “Making money’s not the same as having it. Your father was born poor. I bet he understood that.”

“I don’t want it,” I reiterated. “Nobody gets that, but I don’t. He left me the house and the building outright. That’s probably one point two million. So I’ll sell them, give half to Jean, and still be richer than I’d ever planned on being.”

“Six hundred grand ain’t fifteen million.”

“It’s enough,” I said.

“For about one guy in a million.” Hank paused. “You that guy, Work?”

“I guess I am.”

Hank settled back in his seat. “I’d take the fifteen million,” he said, and I knew then that he would help me.

He put the car in drive and eased away from the curb. We drove in silence for a few minutes.

“So what do you want me to do?” Hank asked. “The way I see it, we have a couple choices. We dig deeper on Alex or we go talk to Mills, let her check Alex out. Now I understand if you don’t want to talk to Mills, so I’ll be glad to handle that. That would probably be the best idea, the more I think about it. You’ll have to come clean about the gun, but nobody says that has to be done quickly. Once Mills is convinced, once she’s built a case against Alex, maybe then we’ll tell her. Of course, if they find the anonymous caller, that point will be moot. It’s not going to be pretty, no matter how we do it. Mills would chew your face off if she could get away with it. She won’t be easy to convince. She wants you to be guilty. It’s almost personal.”

I was barely listening; my mind was elsewhere. “I think Alex will come looking for me,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“I told Jean about my suspicions. Alex won’t sit still for that. She’ll come looking for me.”

Hank was already shaking his head. “If she’s the killer, that’s the last thing she’ll do. She’ll play dumb. She’ll wait for the world to land on you. All the hard work’s done. She can relax and watch her tax dollars at work.”

“Maybe,” I said, but was not dissuaded.

“So, do you want me to talk to Mills?”

“I want you to find Vanessa,” I said. “That hasn’t changed.”

“Damn it! This is not the time to waste energy looking for some missing person. I don’t care how you feel about her. As soon as Mills finds that caller, you’ll be arrested, and as far as we know, they’ve already back-traced it. They could do a photo lineup easily enough. They could be coming for you already, and this time there won’t be any bail. Not after attempting to destroy evidence. No judge alive would let you out. You’ll rot in jail, Work. So get your priorities straight! Playtime is over.”

“I want you to find her, Hank.”

“For fuck’s sake, Work. Why?”

I didn’t want to say this, because it was not the most important reason, and I already felt bad enough. But Hank had to hear it.