“Then why didn’t you use it when he attacked you?”

“I couldn’t get to it fast enough.”

Mary thought about it, and it made sense. Trish was a hairdresser, not a ninja.

“The next thing I hear, Bobby’s dead.” Trish heaved a sigh. “We both knew the cops would think I did it.”

Mary felt her blood run cold. She’d been thinking the same thing, but hadn’t admitted it to herself until now. “Well, did you?”

“No, of course not. You believe me, right?”

Mary didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t process it fast enough.

“Thanks, back at you.”

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Whatever.” Trish waved her off like a fly. “Anyway, my boyfriend came up and we went out to this burger joint because I was starvin’ and this dump doesn’t even have a coffee shop, and he calmed me down. Then you showed up.” Trish cocked her head. “How’d you find me, anyway?”

“Tell you on the way back,” Mary answered, rising.

“To where?”

“Either home or the Roundhouse, if I can get a hold of Brinkley.”

“The cops? You think that’s a good idea?” Trish looked up, worried. “My boyfriend said-”

“Forget what he said. I’m your lawyer, and you have no choice. We go and tell the truth.”

“But what if they charge me? What if they think I did it?” Trish didn’t move from the bed.

“They won’t. You were checked in here the night he was killed, and we can prove that.”

“No I wasn’t. I only found this place the next day, the morning after.”

Huh? Mary frowned. “Where were you when Bobby was killed, Tuesday night?”

“Hell if I know. I drove around and around, and I got lost. It was all trees and more trees. I never been in the mountains before. I didn’t know where I was at.”

That, Mary understood, but she also knew that I-don’t-know-where-I-was-at sucked as an alibi.

“There’s no stores, no bars, no nothin’ up here.” Trish’s eyes widened, incredulous. “You believe people live like this? It’s nuts!”

“Okay, so what did you do?”

“I was too freaked to keep drivin’, and Bobby had my cell. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t find an effin pay phone. So I went off the road into the woods and parked there all night, outta sight.”

“You slept in the car?”

“Yeah, and the next morning I drove around till I found a phone and called my boyfriend and he came up. I didn’t check in here till Wednesday.”

“Okay, so you’ll tell them that. It is what it is.” Mary shrugged. “We gotta go. People are looking for you.”

“But I have no alibi, and I do have a motive to kill him. It’s like you said, how do you break up with a mobster? Only one way. You kill him.”

“You’re just being paranoid.” But Mary remembered, and it was making her nervous.

“You know, I used to lie awake at night and pray he’d get killed, that one of the boys would off him, or even he’d end up in a car crash.” Trish snorted. “Now that it finally happened, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that he’s dead and I didn’t kill him.”

“Nice talk, T.” Mary couldn’t manage a smile. She felt her anger rising again. “If this is supposed to convince me, try again.”

“I’m not trying to convince you. It’s the truth.”

“Look, get up, we’re going to the cops. As a legal matter, it takes more than motive to charge somebody with murder, even if you have no alibi.”

“Like what?”

“Like evidence. For one thing, the ballistics won’t match. They’ll be able to tell that the bullets that killed him didn’t come from your gun. They know by the grooves.”

“But the cops could say I used a different gun.”

“Where would you get another gun?”

“You kiddin’ me, with my connections? I could get you one, if you wanted it.”

Um, right. “You weren’t in the city. You were up here.”

“So what? I had enough time to drive back to the city, find Bobby on his corner, kill him, and come back up here. I know where he worked. I coulda told you he’d be there.”

Mary felt confused and suddenly tired. “Then why would you come back here?”

“To set up my alibi. To make it look like I didn’t do it.” Trish arched an eyebrow. “See what I mean?”

“No.” Mary couldn’t deal. “This is crazy. You’re watching too much TV.”

“Face it, I look guilty.”

“Yes, but it’s only a circumstantial case. They don’t just charge people with murder, willy-nilly. You’re his victim, not his killer. Brinkley has the diary. He knows Bobby’s history, and the guy was connected, for God’s sake.” Mary waved her up and turned to walk to the door. “Either way, we’re coming clean. We’ll go sort this out and call your mother, too, on the way home. I can’t take the guilt.”

“I’m not going,” Trish said from behind her, and a new tone in her voice made Mary turn around.

The sight shocked her. Trish was standing there, her black purse tucked under her arm, a determined expression in her eyes, and in her two-fisted grip, something Mary had never expected to see.

A small black gun.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

W hoa. Mary put her hands up, reflexively, her eyes on the gun in Trish’s hand. “Now you’re making me think you did it.”

“I didn’t, but I can’t take the chance in going to the cops.”

“If you didn’t kill him, then you won’t kill me.”

“I’m not gonna kill you. I’m just gonna shoot you a little.”

Yikes! “Is that supposed to be funny?”

“Move over and let me go.” Trish aimed the gun higher, stiff armed, but Mary didn’t budge from in front of the door. She prayed Trish wouldn’t shoot her, but she wasn’t about to let the girl walk out, not after all it took to track her down.

“Move.” Trish took a step closer.

“No,” Mary heard herself say, anger welling from deep inside. “Once a Mean Girl, always a Mean Girl. Judy said you’d hurt me, but I didn’t listen.”

“Move over and let me get outta here.”

“What’s the plan, Trish? Lose everything? Keep running? Never go home? If you wanted that, you could’ve done that in the first place, when you came to my office.”

“Move. Now.”

“Never. I got fired to help you. I lost clients to help you. I drove to wherever the hell we are for you. I’m not going back without you.” Mary lowered her hand slowly and held it out, before she could even judge the wisdom of her own actions. “Give me the gun.”

“Move.” Trish took another step closer, and so did Mary, hand still outstretched.

“Give it to me. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

“You’re asking me to take a chance with my life.”

“No, I’m asking you to trust somebody. Trust me.”

Trish hesitated. “You said the law fails people like me.”

“It does. I won’t.”

Trish eyed her directly, and Mary met her gaze over the gun.

“I found you here, didn’t I? Please, give it to me.”

Suddenly Trish heaved a deep sigh and flopped the gun sideways in Mary’s hand.

“Thanks.” Mary raised the gun and immediately pointed it back at Trish. “Turnabout is fair play.”

“Are you nuts?” Trish recoiled in alarm. “What’re you doin’, freak?”

“Teaching you something.”

“What?”

“Call your mother.”

Trish snorted. “You’re kiddin’, right?”

“No. Call your mother.”

“At gunpoint?”

“If that’s what it takes. Call her.” Mary smiled behind the gun, flinty as Clint Eastwood. “Go ahead. Make her day.”

“I was gonna call her,” Trish said defensively.

“So go ahead then. Me and my new gun will wait.”

“You are so ignorant!” Trish rolled her eyes like a teenager, stalked to the phone beside the bed, and picked up the receiver, pressing in the number.

“You need to be a better daughter and a better friend.”

“You need to shut up.” Trish turned away and spoke into the receiver. “Ma? Yes, Ma, it’s me, I’m fine, I’m alive…don’t have a heart attack…Ma, don’t freak…I’m here with Mary. DiNunzio. She found me…and it’s all right now…she’s bringing me home…we should be home by morning.”