“A close thing,” I said.

“They often are.”

“Who identified me?”

“Just some guy out fishing. He was about a hundred feet upriver, sitting on an old bucket and waiting for something to bite. He didn’t want to identify himself because he’d been drinking all night and didn’t want his wife to know.”

“A bad witness,” I said, wondering if he had also witnessed my despair, seen the barrel pressed so hard under my chin. I tried to read Mills, to see if she knew, but she was inscrutable.

“A bad witness,” she agreed, her eyes shifting away from my face. And I knew that she knew.

“And Barbara?” I tried to keep my face straight and my voice level, but it was hard. For good or bad, I’d spent ten years of my life with her; I couldn’t pretend this wasn’t killing me.

“We arrested her at the country club. She was poolside, having lunch with some of her friends.”

“Glena Werster?” I asked.

“Yeah, she was there.”

“Glena Werster has a black Mercedes.”

“So?”

“Vanessa Stolen was run down by a black Mercedes.”

Suddenly, Mills was a cop again. “Do you think Ms. Werster was responsible?”

“Do I think she would put herself at risk to help one of her friends? No. Their friendship was a parasitic thing; Barbara used Glena for her prestige and Glena used Barbara like a dishrag. What I do believe is that Barbara wanted Vanessa out of the way, and she was too smart to use her own car.”

“Do you think Ms. Werster could have been aware of this?”

“I think it can’t hurt to ask.”

“I intend to,” Mills said.

The thought of Glena Werster trying to deal with Detective Mills made me smile. “I wish I could be there,” I said.

“You don’t care for Ms. Werster?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I won’t go easy on her,” Mills said in total seriousness.

“Will you let me know?”

“I will.”

“Then let’s get back to Barbara,” I said.

“At first, she acted tough, you know, angry. But by the time the cuffs went on, she was crying.” Mills showed me her teeth, and I recognized her animal grin. “I enjoyed that part.”

“You always do.”

“Do you want me to apologize again?”

“No,” I said. “Go on.”

“I’ve spent a lot of time with your wife.”

“Interrogating her?”

“Discussing things,” Mills said.

“And?”

“And she refused to confess. She said I’d made a grave mistake. She threatened to sue. The same innocent act I’ve seen a hundred times. But then she learned that you were alive, and something in her seemed to break.”

“She confessed?” I asked.

Mills shifted in her seat. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“What then?”

“I mean she broke. She’s incoherent.”

I tried to absorb this. “Is it an act?”

Mills shrugged. “We’ll see, but I doubt it.”

“Why?”

“She babbles. She lets things out, little pieces of information no sane person would tell the cops. We’ve pieced it together from what she’s said. The will, her affair with Ezra. And we found the tapes, along with the money and the jewelry.”

I hesitated, but had to ask. “Is that common knowledge?”

“Her and Ezra? I’m afraid so.”

A silence stretched between us as I thought about what Mills had said. Eventually, she broke it. “Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t destroy the tapes. They were pretty damning.”

“She loved him,” I said. “In some sick, twisted way I’ll never understand. But she did.” In my mind I saw her face, and the way her eyes seemed to glow.

“It takes all kinds, I guess.”

I thought back to the night this all started, the night my mother died. “So it was Barbara who called Ezra that night, after we left the hospital.”

“Actually, it was Alex.”

My jaw may have dropped, but Mills continued evenly.

“She knew about the fight between Jean and your father; she knew what it was about. She called Ezra. She offered to leave town for fifty thousand dollars. She said she would disappear, leave Jean alone. The mall is next to the interstate. She told him to meet her in the parking lot with the cash. She’d get on the road and leave Salisbury forever. I believe he went to the office for the cash, his gun, too, probably. Then he paid her off and she left. That was the last time anybody saw him alive, except for Barbara, of course.”

“I can’t believe Alex would do that.” Take his money. Leave Jean. “None of that makes sense to me.”

“She didn’t spend the money. She didn’t want it, not like any other person would. She just wanted to show Jean the kind of person her father was. She wanted to drive them apart. And it would have worked, too, I bet, but it wasn’t necessary.”

“Ezra disappeared and that was that. Alex had what she wanted. Namely, my sister.”

“Free and clear,” Mills said.

Except for me, I thought.

“So after Alex left, did he call Barbara or did she call him?”

“A lot of what I believe is just theory right now, but it seems to fit, based on things that Barbara has said and the information that I’ve collected throughout the investigation. Here’s how I see it. The night your mother died, the three of you were at Ezra’s house after you left the hospital. Ezra got the phone call, which we now know was from Alex; he left to get money from his office and to meet her near the interstate. Jean left right after he did, which is, in part, why you thought she might have been responsible. If he went to the mall, Jean could have followed him. You checked her house and found that her car was gone. It makes sense, assuming she had a motive.” Mills looked hard at me. “It still troubles me that you won’t explain what you think that motive might have been…” I returned her measured gaze and said nothing. “But I guess I’ll have to let that one go, as well.

“So, Ezra went to his office and collected fifty thousand in cash from his safe. Maybe he got the gun there. Maybe it was in his house or in his car. We’ll never know. But he meets Alex at the mall and pays her off. Alex leaves, satisfied that her plan has worked. Now we have Ezra at the mall. This is about the time that you left home and went to Stolen Farm-let’s say one in the morning, maybe a little later. I don’t think Ezra would have called your house, knowing that you were probably there. That means that Barbara called him, shortly after you left, I would imagine. She wanted to talk to him about his wife’s death or about the will. Maybe she just wanted a tumble. I don’t know that part yet. But let’s assume Ezra gets the call while he’s at the mall…”

“She loved him,” I said.

“You said that before.”

I rolled my shoulders. “Maybe she thought that he would take her if she left me. Maybe she saw a window of opportunity with my mother gone. Maybe she wanted to talk to him about that.”

Mills studied me for long seconds as my words dwindled. “Are you okay to talk about this?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” I said, but I wasn’t.

“All right. For whatever reason, they meet at the mall. Ezra has just finished manipulating Alex out of his life. His wife is dead. My guess is that he wanted a clean slate and told your wife as much. I think that he called it off, told her that it was over and that he was going to change the will back to the way he wanted it. He’s done with her, right? So your wife gets her hands on the gun somehow. He couldn’t have seen that coming. She orders him into the closet and shoots him dead; puts a second one in his head to make sure. She closes the closet door, walks out of the empty building, and tosses the gun into the storm drain. Then she gets into her car and goes home, arriving there well before you do. By this time, Jean is at home with Alex, knowing that you left your house on some mysterious errand. There’s no one there to see Barbara leave and then return; so that when Ezra goes missing and then turns up dead, Jean assumes you were involved. Or maybe she didn’t assume that, at least not until his body turned up. But then you gave me a false alibi, one that Jean knew to be factually inaccurate. She thinks back to the night in question and draws a reasonable conclusion.”