“We’re not going to let that happen.”

Tyler and I answered together and when our gazes snapped and met, there was one second of unspoken challenge between us. That was right before we realized we were on the same page. If we could agree about this, maybe we could find common ground on finding Greg’s killer, too.

Big points for Tyler, he let me be the one who delivered the message. I lifted my chin and fisted my hands at my sides. “We’re going to find the guy,” I told Norman. My steely demeanor may have been more convincing if pretzel crumbs didn’t dot my black T-shirt. I didn’t brush them away. “Really, Norman. We’re close. I know we are. I’ve done this sort of thing before. Tyler ’s done this sort of thing before. Plenty more times than I have.” As a sort of conciliatory gesture, I glanced Tyler ’s way. “All we need to do is reason our way through things. You know, look at everything we’ve already discovered. Think about things in a new way, from new angles.”

Tyler slapped a hand against the table. “Exactly.”

“So where do we begin?” Norman asked.

That, of course, was the hard part. But I wasn’t about to let Norman know that. Instead, I collected myself and sat back down, and, hey, if I sounded far more confident than I felt… well, Norman didn’t need to know that.

My voice cool and steady, I walked us through all we’d recently found out. “Victor Pasqual has a motive, and no opportunity, and he’s a nice guy. Three hundred thousand dollars is chump change for him. We were lucky we even got that close to him and we wouldn’t have if not for the fact that Eve pawned Doc’s collar and-”

A thought hit, and honest to goodness, I don’t know how long I sat there, my mouth agape and my mind racing. It was, apparently, long enough to worry Jim. He put a hand on my arm and leaned over so he could stare me in the face. “Annie? Are ye all right?”

I rewound my thinking process and went over it in my head again before I dared to speak, and when I did, my voice was breathy. Then again, I had a good excuse: My heart was pounding like a jackhammer. “ Norman, you won three hundred thousand dollars in a card game with Victor Pasqual.”

Norman nodded.

“It cost us twenty-five thousand dollars to get in Pasqual’s game, and the biggest winner of the night came away with…” I looked at Eve.

She shrugged. “It wasn’t me. I got all my money back and then some, but I think that li’l ol’ fellow across the table-the skinny little guy from Texas?-I think he was the big winner. At the end of the evening, he said something about his take being somewhere around fifty thousand.”

“He put in twenty-five and he left with fifty.” So far, so good. The facts were lining up with my new theory. “So when you played, Norman… back when you won the money to open Très Bonne Cuisine… how much did you have to have for a stake?”

Norman still wasn’t following, but I could tell Jim and Tyler already saw where I was headed. They leaned forward, their gazes trained on Norman.

And I did, too. Which was why I noticed that he didn’t have to think about it. Not at all.

“One hundred and fifty thousand,” Norman said.

“And where-” I could tell Tyler was about to interrupt so I shot him a look. This was my thought, my theory. I got to ask the question. “Norman, you sure didn’t make that kind of money putting dishwashing soap in a bottle and calling it a miracle cleaner. Where did you get the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars?”

“Oh.” The truth dawned, and, slowly, Norman sank back into his chair. Just like that, though, he discounted everything I’d said. “No way.” He shook his head. “That has nothing to do with what happened to Greg. It couldn’t.”

“Because…?”

I allowed Tyler this bit of a question before I took over again.

“Why, Norman? Why can’t it? Where did you get the money in the first place?”

While Norman gathered his thoughts, I reached for the legal pad and pen I had left near at hand, and when he started to talk, I took notes.

“It was back in prison,” Norman said. “You know, in Nevada. I told you all about that.” He looked around the table, confirming that we all knew the story. “My cellmate was a guy named Howard. Howard Fish. He was a crusty old goat. A small-time con who’d been in and out of the system all his life. We didn’t get along well at first. I mean, Howard, didn’t appreciate having to share his space with a first-timer like me. But after a couple months… well, Howard, he found out he had lung cancer, and I guess that sort of softened him up. He talked, I listened.” Norman shrugged. “You know how it is with older people. They like telling stories.”

“And this Howard, he told you how you could steal a hundred thousand dollars?”

I took offense at Tyler ’s question. Norman didn’t.

“It was nothing like that,” Norman said. “It was legit. Really. One day they decided Howard would be better off in the prison infirmary. He was pretty weak by then. In fact, he died just a couple days later. But right before they came for him, he told me how much he appreciated having me around when he was sick. Then he started talking about a cabin he owned up near Pyramid Lake, and Howard-he said when I got out, I should go up there and look under the loose floorboard near the fireplace. I mean, it sounded like something out of a movie, right?” Norman laughed, ill at ease. “But hey, once I was out, I wasn’t sure where to go or what I was going to do. I remembered what Howard said, and I went up to Pyramid Lake. There was the cabin, just like Howard said. And the key was under a big chunk of granite near the front door. He told me that, too. So if all that was right, I figured what he said about the floorboard was, too. I pried it up. That’s where I found the hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

We all sat quietly, thinking of the implications, but I was the one who asked, “That was before you ran all those other scams, as Fred and Bill and all those other folks, right?”

“Well, I knew a hundred fifty thousand wouldn’t last forever, and a man’s got to make a living. I invested the money,” Norman explained. “Because I knew I wanted to do something with food. A restaurant, a gourmet shop… I was looking around, considering my options. But the money, it wasn’t adding up fast enough. So when I met some people who knew Victor and they said they could get me into a game…”

In a not-so-good imitation of a Vulcan mind meld, I stared at Norman, and when he still didn’t get it, I laid it on the line.

“The hundred and fifty thousand, Norman. Have you ever wondered where Howard got it?”

He shrugged. “Don’t ask, don’t tell. Nobody else knew the money was there and I figured someday, somebody might buy that cabin and find it. Or somebody might buy the land and knock the cabin down and find it. Either way, I had as much right to that money as they did. More, seeing as how Howard told me I could have it.”

“Yeah, but don’t you get it?” Tyler had kept silent as long as he was able. “If Howard got that money illegally-”

The truth was dawning. I could tell because Norman ’s face went from pale to ashen. Because I couldn’t stand to watch him suffer, I leaped out of my chair, checking the clock above the kitchen sink as I did. “I’ve got just enough time to hit the library before it closes,” I said. “I’ll meet you all at Bellywasher’s this evening.”

“But, honey…” I was already at the front door when Eve found her voice and called after me. “What on earth are you looking for?”

Jim knew. I could tell from the look he gave me when I turned around. Of course, Tyler did, too. Norman would figure it out himself eventually. So I told Eve, “I’m going to find out where a small-time con like Howard Fish got a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

THE NEAREST BRANCH OF THE ARLINGTON PUBLIC LIBRARY closes at five on Saturdays so I didn’t have much time. I raced through my research, then raced over to Bellywasher’s, copies of the microfiche pages I’d discovered in hand.