“Could you write it down for me? I’d really appreciate it.”

“Sure.” His voice was gruff. He grabbed a tablet that had been affixed to the refrigerator and got a pen from the kitchen drawer. “You’re not fooling me. You just wanted me out of there.”

“Yes, that’s right. But I do want the recipe.”

“Fine. But what you have to understand is, Pat’s always been, well, a conspiracy theorist. She’s been convinced from day one that Wade killed Karen. Although thankfully, she never said it in public. I don’t want to get sued.”

“Is Wade the suing type?”

“Who knows? But if you want my opinion, I think she’s imagining things.”

“But you do admit he’d know where she was at twelve o’clock that night.”

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean he’d do anything. Look, I know people. I work in business. He and I used to go on hunting trips together, and you get to know a guy. I don’t believe it, and I’ll tell you another thing, her dad thought he was a good guy. They worked together for fifteen years. George was his mentor. They were like that.” He crossed his fingers.

“You sound convinced.”

“I know people. Wade’s one of the nicest people you’d ever want to meet. Karen was…she was difficult. Her first marriage ended, but she got attached to that kid, Dave. Couldn’t let it go. No relation, but she was always humoring him. You ask me, she had a crush on the kid. You know, like those schoolteachers?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, older women and kids barely out of high school. Or even in high school. She was a teacher herself. So…it’s not a leap to think that she might have had a crush on the kid. Going out there at midnight to pick him up when his car was in the shop? You asked me and I’m telling you what I really think: she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Tess heard footsteps behind her—Danny. “Hey, thank you!” he said to Bert. “We’ve taken up enough of your time, so we’ll be going.”

“Yeah, well.” Bert glared at Danny. “Maybe you should spend more time on solving my father-in-law’s murder instead of going on wild goose chases.”

“Hey, you might be right,” Danny said. He held out a hand. “We’ll do our best to find out who killed him. It’s important to us.”

“Yeah,” Bert grumbled. “‘Your call’s important to us.’”

Tess grinned at Danny.

Outside, Tess said, “What do you think?”

“I think ol’ Wade is one hell of a con man.”

“Pat’s instincts are right,” Tess said. “But I can see how the guy can charm the pants off anyone.” She thought of the open, friendly face. The guy looked and acted like a big friendly dog. Like he’d bear hug you at any moment. “He’s good.”

Helium Man—that’s how Jaimie thought of the son of a bitch—told her to take Harshaw Road out to Mowry, an old ghost town down near the Arizona-Mexico border. It was a remote area, and few tourists made it there. She was to bring a “reward”—ten thousand dollars in cash. He’d wait until she showed up with the money and left it at a prearranged spot, marked by one of those flags on wires they used for cable markers. She was to call him at a certain number when she’d done it. Once he had the money, he’d direct her to where she would find Adele.

Not that she trusted him. But what else could she do?

She knew he was serious, because he called the dog “Adele.” So he knew something about George Hanley’s dog, and he knew she’d adopted her.

This scared Jaimie to the core. She entertained the idea of not playing along, letting him keep her, but he’d anticipated that, too.

He’d told her, graphically, what he would do to Adele, and how long it would take to kill her. He told her he’d cook her on a spit.

She knew he was telling the truth.

“Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “Why hurt an innocent dog?”

His answer: “I know what you did.”

Jaimie could access the money. No problem with that. Briefly, she thought about calling Michael. But she knew what he’d say. She knew he’d tell her not to do it. And she had to do it. Adele was hers. Adele was more than just a dog—she was the embodiment of what they’d done. Everyone else had gotten a tribute, a prize, except for her. Even Chad, and he didn’t even know why. Just for buying the cougar, he had been given a surfboard, stolen out of Peter Farley’s house. But what did she get? Nothing. So she took her own tribute, her own prize. George Hanley was going to be hers. She’d found him, she’d targeted him. So what if she couldn’t do anything for at least a year?

He was hers, and she’d been cheated out of it.

She tried to tune out the fear she felt. But her mind kept going back to one question: Who would know about the Survivors Club?

Whoever it was, was male. She was pretty sure of that. Even if he disguised his voice with the helium.

But was she really that sure? Couldn’t it be the woman cop?

Was this a trick? Was she trying to lure her out there? Maybe she should talk to Michael.

She needed to get the ten thousand out, though. That would take time. But if this was for real, Jaimie was not going to let whoever it was kill Adele.

She loved Adele.

Jaimie would go and take out the money, first. Then, if she needed to meet this person, if this was really on the up-and-up and somebody had figured this out and it wasn’t the Patagonia cop and if it wasn’t the Tucson cop, then she would go out there.

She ran out to the truck. The hand holding the car alarm button shook so badly she missed the first time. Then she was in the truck and taking off for Wells Fargo.

“Now what?” Danny asked Tess as they drove back to the sheriff’s office.

“I have no idea.”

“It’s confusing, that’s for sure. So what are we thinking here? You really think he killed his wife?”

“It would be hard to prove.”

“Yeah, but what do you think?”

Tess said, “I do. I think he killed Karen, and I think that her nephew was collateral damage.”

“Why, you think?”

Tess stared out at the blacktop winding through the golden hills. The sun baking the windshield, even though it was only April. “He was tired of her? He wanted to be rid of her?”

“Wouldn’t divorce be easier?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he liked killing her. Maybe he liked getting away with it—you know, like that guy—”

“Drew Peterson?” Danny said.

“He reminds me of that guy. And don’t forget, Karen was five months pregnant.”

Danny whistled. “You think he didn’t want a kid?”

“Who knows?”

“Damn, I can’t imagine that. If that’s true, I want to kill that motherfucker.”

Tess could feel the violence in her usually easygoing partner. Coiled up, ready to strike. The new father—protective.

He darted a glance at her. “What do you think?”

“What do you think?”

“I think he did it. Maybe because of the kid.”

Tess could see Danny’s knuckles white on the steering wheel. She said, “What about George Hanley? Do you think he killed him, too?”

“If he’s a killer, he might get off on it. First the daughter, then come back and finish off the dad. But why now?”

Tess agreed. “There was a long time between the two killings.”

“Yeah. Maybe George had figured it out about his daughter.”

Tess could see that. “You think maybe George contacted him?”

“What, and told him to come clean? How dumb is that?”

“I don’t think George would be that foolish.”

“Me either,” Danny said.