Page 170 of The Woman Left Behind

“He framed Sonny and Avery either because Dern was involved and wanted it that way, or for the reason he tracked Sonny and Avery to Idaho, something Dern knew nothing about. Because Karl thought Sonny saw him at the Dietrichs,” Harry confirmed.

“And he killed them there,” Rus repeated.

“Yup.”

“And he’s been blackmailing the Dietrichs since then,” Rus kept running it down.

“Mm-hmm.”

“He left the gun with the bodies so if they were found, the Dietrichs would be tagged, because this asshole is all about the frameup and covering his ass,” Rus continued.

“Right again.”

“The prints on the gun will be one of the Dietrichs’, because it was their gun, and he wouldn’t have wiped it in order that he could tag them if it came down to it.”

Harry nodded.

“He told Cheryl, somehow Muggsy found out, Muggsy wanted in on the action, that was going to be his big payday.”

“And Karl took him out, Roy covered for him, and now Karl is cleaning up after himself,” Harry finished it.

“Fuck,” Rus said.

“Oh yeah,” Harry agreed.

Rus walked away, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Harry crouched again and looked at the little blue pill.

“I’m going to find you, you motherfucker,” he whispered.

Then he stood and prowled out of that fetid house right to his cruiser.

FORTY-ONE

The Natives Are Restless

Harry

“He’s got bruising around the torso consistent with receiving repeated blows, a particularly nasty one on the back of his thigh, and he took some hits to his genitalia, and as we both know, that would incapacitate even the fittest man,” Theresa said in his ear. “And this gent was far from the fittest man.”

Early that evening, Harry stood in his office, staring unseeing out of his window toward Main Street, and listening to the ME give a preliminary report on Roy Farrell.

“He was dead before the contusions could fully form,” she went on. “But they aren’t older and faded. They were just rising. I haven’t cut him open yet, but from what I’m seeing on a visual inspection, I’m already leaning toward foul play.”

Fucking perfect.

“Gotcha,” Harry replied.

“I’ll dig in now. You’ll have my full report tomorrow.”

Now was late. It was after five o’clock.

He was struggling because he wanted to tell her to go home and let murder wait until tomorrow.

But there was so much riding on this.

For Lillian.

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