Lena kept the paper up, but Jeffrey knew her heartbeat was probably going as fast as his. Gordon could be guessing, or he could be looking for a way to confess.

Lena asked, "Did you rape her?"

"Maybe," Gordon said. He started rocking the chair back and forth, like a little boy craving attention. "Maybe I fucked her. You wanna know about it?"

"Sure," Lena said. She put the paper down, crossing her arms. "Why don't you tell me all about it?"

Gordon leaned toward her. "She was in the bathroom, right?"

"You tell me."

"She was washing her hands, and I went in and fucked her up the ass. She liked it so much she died on the spot."

Lena gave a heavy sigh. "That's the best you can do?"

He seemed insulted. "No."

"Why don't you tell me what you did to Julia Matthews?"

He sat back in the chair, leaning on his hands. "I didn't do anything to her."

"Where is she then?"

He shrugged. "Probably dead."

"Why do you say that?"

He leaned forward, his chest pressed into the table. "She's tried to kill herself before."

Lena did not skip a beat. "Yeah, I know. Slit her wrists."

"That's right." Gordon nodded, though Jeffrey could see the surprise in his face. Jeffrey was surprised, too, though it made perfect sense. Women were far more likely to choose slitting their wrists over the many other methods of suicide. Lena had made a calculated guess.

Lena summarized, "She slit her wrists last month."

He cocked his head, giving her a strange look. "How'd you know that?"

Lena sighed again, picking the paper back up. She opened it with a snap, then started to read.

Gordon started rocking his chair back and forth again.

Lena did not look up from the paper. "Where is she, Ryan?"

"I don't know."

"Did you rape her?"

"I didn't have to rape her. She was a damn lapdog."

"You let her go down on you?"

"That's right."

"That the only way you could get it up, Ryan?"

"Shit." He dropped the chair. "You're not supposed to be talking to me anyway."

"Why?"

" 'Cause this is off-the-record. I can say anything I want and it doesn't matter."

"What do you want to say?"

His lips twitched. He leaned over farther. From Jeffrey's perspective, he thought that with Gordon's hands cuffed behind him, the kid almost looked hog-tied.

Gordon whispered, "Maybe I want to talk about your sister some more."

Lena ignored him.

"Maybe I wanna talk about how I beat her to death."

"You don't look like the type of guy who knows how to use a hammer."

He seemed taken aback by this. "I am," he assured her. "I beat her in the head, then I fucked her with the hammer."

Lena folded the paper to a new page. "Where'd you leave the hammer?"

He looked smug. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"What was Julia up to, Ryan?" Lena asked casually. "She screwing around on you? Maybe she found a real man."

"Fuck that, bitch," Gordon snapped. "I am a real man."

"Right."

"Take off these cuffs and I'll show you."

"I bet you will," Lena said, her tone indicating she was not in the least bit threatened. "Why did she run around on you?"

"She didn't," he said. "That bitch Jenny Price tell you that? She doesn't know anything about it."

"About how Julia wanted to leave you? About how you followed her around all the time, wouldn't leave her alone?"

"Is that what this is about?" Gordon asked. "That why you got me freaking chained up?"

"We've got you chained up for the coke in your pocket."

He snorted. "It wasn't mine."

"Not your pants, right?"

He slammed his chest into the table, his face a mask of anger. "Listen, bitch-"

Lena stood in front of him, leaning over the table, her face in his. "Where is she?"

Spit came from his mouth. "Fuck you."

In one quick motion, Lena grabbed the ring hanging down from his nose.

"Ow, shit," Gordon screamed as he leaned over, his chest slamming into the table, his arms sticking up behind his back. "Help!" he screamed. The glass in front of Jeffrey shook from the noise.

Lena whispered, "Where is she?"

"I saw her a couple of days ago," he managed through gritted teeth. "Jesus, please let go."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know," he yelled. "Please, I don't know! You're gonna pull it out."

Lena released the ring, wiping her hand on her pants. "You stupid little twit."

Ryan wiggled his nose, probably making sure it was still there. "You hurt me," he whined. "That hurt."

"You want me to hurt you some more?" Lena offered, resting her hand on her gun.

Gordon tucked his head into his chest, mumbling, "She tried to kill herself because I left her. She loved me that much."

"I think she didn't have a clue," Lena countered. "I think she was pretty much fresh off the truck and you took advantage of her." She stood up, leaning halfway over the table. "What's more, I don't think you have the balls to kill a fly, let alone a living person, and if I ever"-Lena slammed her hands into the table, her anger bursting like a grenade-"if I ever hear you say anything else about my sister, Ryan, anything at all, I will kill you. Trust me on this, I know I have it in me. I don't doubt that for a second."

Gordon's mouth moved wordlessly.

Jeffrey was so engrossed in the interview that he didn't notice the knock at the door.

"Jeffrey?" Maria said, poking her head into the observation room. "We got a situation at Will Harris's place."

"Will Harris?" Jeffrey asked, thinking that was the last name he had expected to hear today. "What happened?"

Maria stepped into the room, lowering her voice. "Somebody threw a rock in the front window of his house."

Frank Wallace and Matt Hogan were standing on Will Harris's front lawn when Jeffrey pulled up. He wondered how long they had been there. Wondered, too, if they knew who had done this. Matt Hogan did not have qualms about hiding his prejudices. Frank, on the other hand, Jeffrey was not sure about. What he did know was Frank had been in on the interview of Pete Wayne yesterday. Jeffrey felt his tension build as he parked the car. He did not like being in a position where he could not trust his own men.

"What the hell happened?" Jeffrey asked, getting out of the car. "Who did this?"

Frank said, "He got home about half an hour ago. Said he was working at old Miss Betty's house, aerating her yard. Came home and saw this."

"It was a rock?"

"Brick, actually," Frank said. "Same kind you see everywhere. Had a note around it."

"What'd it say?"

Frank looked down at the ground, then back up. "Will's got it."

Jeffrey looked at the picture window, which had a large hole in it. The two windows on either side were untouched, but the glass in the center would cost a small fortune to replace. "Where is he?" Jeffrey asked.

Matt nodded toward the front door. He had the same smug look Jeffrey had seen on Ryan Gordon a few minutes ago.

Matt said, "In the house."

Jeffrey started toward the door, then stopped himself. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a twenty. "Go buy some plywood," he said. "Bring it back here as soon as possible."

Matt's jaw set, but Jeffrey leveled him with a hard stare. "You got something you want to say to me, Matt?"

Frank interjected, "We'll see if we can get some glass on order while we're there."

"Yeah," Matt grumbled, walking toward the car.

Frank started to follow, but Jeffrey stopped him. He asked, "You got any idea who might have done this?"

Frank stared down at his feet for a few seconds. "Matt was with me all morning, if that's what you're getting at."

"It was."

Frank looked back up. "I'll tell you what, Chief, I find out who did, I'll take care of it."

He did not wait around for Jeffrey's opinion on this. He turned, walking back toward Matt's car. Jeffrey waited for them to drive off before walking up the drive to Will Harris's house.