“I’m sorry, Joe,” he said. “I really am.”

“Put the gun to your head,” I said, my throat dry. “Barrel on your temple.”

Bazer shook his head, a sad look settling on his face. “I’m not going to do that, Joe. You know that.”

“Do it,” I said. “It’s your only choice. Because I’m not taking you in.”

He blinked again. “I’m not going to put it to my head, Joe.” A slow, weird smile crept onto his face. “But there’s always another choice, isn’t there?”

“If the gun goes anywhere but to your head, I’ll pull the trigger,” I said.

He recognized the truth in my words. “I know that, Joe. I know that.”

It stayed quiet for a moment, the silence hammering my eardrums, my heartbeat thrumming through my chest and up into my throat.

“You have everything you need?” Bazer asked. “Before we do this?”

I was never going to have everything I needed. I’d lost a decade with Elizabeth. I’d never fully understand why Bazer chose her. I’d never understand the evil that could force a person to steal a child.

But I knew what he meant.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve got what I need.”

Bazer nodded slowly, his eyes looking almost sleepy. “I’m sorry, Joe.”

“Go to Hell.”

His right arm suddenly sprang forward and I didn’t think, just reacted, firing before he got the gun more than two inches off the floor. He slumped backward, the gun falling to the floor, his head hitting the nightstand before his body slid down to the carpeting.

The shot rang in my ears for a long time and the gun felt like an anvil in my hand. My arm fell to my side.

I stared at Bazer on the ground.

There was no joy. There was no relief. There was nothing good in seeing him lying there.

But he couldn’t hurt Elizabeth or Lauren or myself ever again.

And there was something in that.

FORTY TWO

I walked outside and the car I’d seen earlier was now parked behind mine on the street.

I walked over to it.

Mike Lorenzo was sitting behind the wheel, his window down.

The second call I’d made on the way back from Brawley had been to him. I’d told him what I’d learned, what I was planning to do, that I was going to confront Bazer and I wasn’t sure what the outcome was going to be. I told him that I wanted him to listen to what went on through my phone, which was why I’d tapped the phone and dialed him from Bazer’s front porch. He never voiced an objection and when he didn’t stop me before I went, I took it that he was implicitly implying that he was good with what I was doing.

“You heard it all?” I asked.

He nodded.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “It’s recorded, too.”

He waved the phone away. “I recorded it on my end, but we don’t want to use that anyway. It’ll bring up too many questions that will be too hard for you to explain.” He exhaled. “Okay. I need to call it in. You ready for that?”

I nodded.

“Should be fine,” Mike said, leaning back in the seat. “I heard it live. I can vouch. I’ll say I came in at the end and saw it. He confessed. I’ll tie it together. Was self-defense.” He paused. “Am I gonna find Farvar to confirm his part?”

“The lady in Phoenix is named Janine Bandencoop,” I said, not answering the question. “She’s the one who sold Elizabeth to the Corzines in Minnesota. I can get you an address, but I guarantee she’s not there anymore.”

He stared at me, chewed on his bottom lip. “Farvar’s place clean?”

I shrugged.

Mike’s mouth twisted into something ugly for a moment. “Alright. I’ll cover Farvar. We can leave his name out of it, anyway. If I gotta bring it in, I know a guy out there.” He paused. “It’ll be okay.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I’m gonna have to call Blundell, too,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “I’m ready.”

He nodded, staring at the steering wheel. “This is good, Joe. Good for Elizabeth. She’s safe now. It’s completely over.” He looked up at me. “That’s a good thing.”

“I’m sorry, Mike,” I said, knowing that I’d permanently damaged our friendship. “I just didn’t know. I got all fucked up. And I just didn’t know. About anyone. If it’s worth anything, Bazer fed me a couple of lies about you, just to throw me off. You heard him say it in there. But I know that doesn’t fix things.” I grimaced. “So I’m truly sorry.”

He turned his phone over in his hands a couple of times, his eyes focused on that. Finally, he looked at me, his eyes empty, and I couldn’t read him.

“I’m gonna call it in,” he said.

FORTY THREE

My knee was bouncing up and down as I sat in the airport, glancing at the screen that flashed all of the incoming flights.

Elizabeth and Lauren would be landing in five minutes.

I hadn’t slept. I’d stayed at Bazer’s house for several hours, answering questions, repeating my story over and over. I’d gone to confront Bazer. I’d called Mike, but hadn’t waited for him to get there. Bazer had pulled the gun out. I’d shot him in self-defense.

Blundell showed up and clearly didn’t believe a word I’d said. She’d come at me hard with a bunch of questions, asking them in different ways.

I didn’t say more than I had to and I stuck to my story.

Mike backed me up, noting that I’d called him prior to arriving at Bazer’s home and that he’d come in at the end, heard enough to implicate Bazer and witnessed the shooting, that it was self-defense on my part.

Blundell ended up stalking away from us, red-faced, shaking her head.

After several hours, there were no more questions to answer. I’d held my own. There’d be follow up, but as long as Mike backed me up, I’d be fine. Because the truth was I had shot Bazer in self-defense. I knew he wouldn’t kill himself and I’d sensed as soon as I’d gotten there that he was going to give up. He wasn’t going to deny anything and he’d made a half-hearted attempt on me so I’d be justified in shooting him. Maybe it was his way of apologizing, of giving me the last word. I wasn’t sure. But I was glad that he was dead.

I glanced up at the screen.

Two minutes.

I’d gone home from Bazer’s, stripped off my clothes and stood in the shower for an hour, as if the hot water would cleanse me of everything. I knew it wouldn’t but I stayed in there until the water ran cold. I’d gotten out, toweled off and laid on the bed, closing my eyes.

Sleep was nowhere to be found.

But I’d stayed on the bed, finally breathing normally for the first time in what seemed like a decade, until it was time to get up and get to the airport.

The box next to their flight told me they’d landed and I stood from the chair, pacing back and forth, looking out the windows at the planes that were pulling in and out of Lindbergh Field. I watched the people streaming down the corridor from behind the secure area. I knew they weren’t in the group coming out, but I looked anyway. A sea of faces that weren’t familiar.

I walked away, taking a deep breath.

I was going to tell Lauren the truth. I wasn’t going to hold anything back. I didn’t know how she’d react, but I wasn’t going to keep it from her. I was going to have to tell Lasko, too, if only because he’d gotten me further than I’d have ever gotten without him. I owed him the truth and I hoped he’d understand. I wasn’t sure that he would. But then again, I wasn’t sure I understood.

I pivoted and walked back toward the bridge that connected the terminal to the gates. Another wave of people emerged, their eyes scanning the area, looking either for friends or baggage or ground transportation.

And then I saw them.

They were at the tail end of the group. Lauren was in jeans and a heavy gray sweater, her hair down, a small smile on her face, her eyes glancing at her daughter. Elizabeth wore black leggings and a white hooded sweatshirt that looked one size too big for her. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and she was smiling back at her mother.