”Drew Elliott. And it’s never been reported lost or stolen.“

I feel as though my body mass has doubled. Breathing is difficult, and the idea of moving seems impossible. ”Drew’s been in jail all night. Right?“

Logan sighs. ”As best I can determine, yes. But I wasn’t here myself. And there’s no closed-circuit camera in his cell.“

Again I remember the escapes I’ve read about in the Examiner. For some reason, inmates at the city jail are allowed to exercise in a fenced area behind the station, and more than a few have disappeared from this flimsy enclosure. ”He couldn’t have gotten out for like forty minutes and then come back, could he?“

”I don’t think so, Penn. But I can’t be certain.“

”Christ, Chief.“

Logan looks up at me, his eyes filled with regret. ”That’s not really my main concern, to be honest. I’m more worried that Drew used his cell phone to hire this done.“

I struggle not to let Logan see how much this possibility worries me. ”Who could Drew call that could have found Cyrus? Both you and Sheriff Byrd have guys working around the clock, and they couldn’t find him. How could Drew?“

”Granted,“ says Logan, but he still looks unconvinced.

”The theory that Drew slipped out and did the shooting himself has the same flaw,“ I point out. ”How would he know where to find Cyrus?“

”You told me Kate Townsend visited Cyrus regularly.“

”But only at Brightside Manor.“

Logan raises his eyebrows. ”Are you sure?“

I’m not sure.”Don, let’s be realistic. This had to be the Asian crew that popped Sonny Cross.“

”I hope so. Because I gave Drew access to his cell phone when I shouldn’t have. And I sure regret that now.“

”This was some kind of drug hit. It had to be.“

”Like I said, I hope so. But you’ve got one more problem.“

”What?“

”We recovered another pistol at the scene. You’ll be interested in that one, too.“

”Why?“

”It’s a Springfield XD-9. And it’s registered to you.“

It takes all my composure to keep my mouth from falling open. ”I can explain that, Don.“

Logan nods, but he looks far less confident in me than he has for the past couple of days. ”I hope so, Penn. Because this looks bad. Really bad.“

”I lost it the other night, chasing a guy who tried to blackmail Drew. Two guys, actually.“

Logan shakes his head, clearly furious that I’ve been holding back information. ”Why didn’t you report it lost?“

”Because I lost the gun on hunting camp land. Dr. Felder’s camp, right behind St. Stephen’s. I knew if anybody found it, it would be a hunter from that club. I called Dr. Felder the next day and told him to warn his members to be on the lookout for it. I also told Coach Anders at St. Stephen’s to watch for it, just in case I lost it on the field. I searched the field and the track myself but found nothing. One of the blackmailers must have picked it up. That’s the only explanation.“

”Okay. I’ll call Dr. Felder tomorrow and try to verify that.“

Two days ago, Chief Logan wouldn’t have had to make such a call. My word would have been enough. ”I can’t believe this,“ I murmur.

”What?“

”That Cyrus is dead. I needed him alive to save Drew. I needed a confession from that son of a bitch. I mean, DNA might prove that Cyrus had sex with Kate, but it can’t prove he killed her. It can’t even prove he raped her. And now we’ll never know what Cyrus knew about her last hours, if anything. Barring the discovery of an eyewitness who saw Cyrus kill Kate, Drew is going on trial for murder.“

The chief’s gaze is not without sympathy. ”Don’t give up hope yet.“

”Why not? Have you found a witness?“

Logan’s eyes shine with knowledge I can’t read. ”Cyrus was hit five times,“ he says. ”That’s what two witnesses told my detectives. But when my patrolmen responded to the 911 call, they didn’t find his body.“

”What?“

”There was nothing but some blood where the witnesses said he fell.“

I stare at Logan in disbelief. ”Do you think the wits lied to you? I mean…Christ, was Cyrus really shot at all? Could the whole thing have been staged to make us believe he’s dead?“

”This is real life, Penn. Forget that TV shit. The girl Cyrus was in bed with made the 911 call, and she’s not part of his crew. She’s a white girl from Morgantown. On the 911 tape you can hear a black guy screaming at the girl to hang up, then the phone goes dead. I doubt Cyrus’s guys would even have called 911. Anyway, the girl told us Cyrus was wearing a bulletproof vest. His homeys confirmed that he owns one. Kevlar with ceramic inserts.“

I’m trying to visualize the scene. ”Even if that’s true, why would Cyrus be wearing it in his bedroom?“

”Expecting a hit, maybe? Cyrus heard about Sonny and got scared?“

The prospect of Cyrus alive and breathing has me wired with excitement. ”Have you covered all the hospitals? Of course you have. I don’t know-“

”Penn,“ the chief cuts in.

”What?“

”I’m going to interrogate Drew. Right now. I’m assuming you want to be present?“

Suddenly, and for the first time, I view Don Logan as a potential enemy. ”Don, Drew was in your custody while these shootings occurred. I think we’d better wait until-“

”I’m going in there,“ Logan says in a voice edged with steel. ”You can take it up with the Supreme Court later, but right now I’m going to do what I have to do. I’ve been more than fair with Drew, but he hasn’t reciprocated. And I’ve had enough of people getting hurt and killed in my town. Kids are dying, and Drew knows more than he’s saying. More than he’s saying to me, anyway.“

I hold up my hands in supplication. ”Let me call his attorney first. That’s all I ask.“

Logan looks at me like I’m crazy. ” You’rehis attorney. I just told you I’d let you be present.“

”I’m not Drew’s attorney, Don.“

”Who the hell is?“

”Quentin Avery.“

Logan freezes in his chair. ”You’re kidding, right?“

I shake my head. ”You know who Avery is?“

”Yessir, I do.“ The chief stands and removes his gun belt. Every move communicates an attitude of defensiveness. ”And I’m not waiting around for that SOB to make a federal case out of this. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all the lawyer Dr. Elliott needs. The interrogation starts in one minute.“

He walks past me without meeting my eyes.

”Don, wait,“ I plead.

”Fuck you.“

When I called Quentin Avery to tell him about Drew’s impending interrogation, I got his wife instead. Doris Avery was reluctant to bring Quentin to the phone, but I heard him protesting in the background, and then his rich voice came down the wire from the far northern edge of the county.

”What are you pulling me out of bed for, Penn Cage?“

I quickly related everything that had happened since we last talked. Quentin sounded intrigued by the attack on Cyrus, and still more by his disappearance. But he wasn’t worried about Drew being interrogated by Chief Logan. If I felt nervous, he said, I should observe and make sure that Drew answered only questions pertaining to Cyrus’s death. Quentin’s nonchalance worried me. I felt that he was misreading Drew-whom he still had not met-and that Drew’s belief in his own innocence might cause him to make statements against his interest in the legal sense.

But Quentin turned out to be right. Chief Logan got nothing out of Drew other than a denial that he’d been involved in the attack on Cyrus and his guards. Drew appeared even more shocked than I to hear of the attack, but he was very interested in Cyrus’s escape. Like me, Drew raised the possibility that Cyrus might be attempting to fake his own death. As Chief Logan tried to shoot down this theory, I decided that if Cyrus was trying to fake his own death, he’d done it without premeditation, by simply taking advantage of a tragic but fortuitous event. But Drew seemed committed to the theory that the entire attack had been orchestrated by Cyrus to rid himself of his own men-potential witnesses against him-and then ”die“ to escape being punished for Kate’s murder. ”What better way to avoid prosecution?“ Drew challenged Logan. ”Cyrus is probably on his way to Chicago or Los Angeles by now.“