Hades

Silverbush snorted. "I'd say the evidence proves I know a helluva lot more than you do. Now, you gonna hand over that badge?"

Justin reached into his left pant pocket, withdrew his EEHPD badge, handed it to Silverbush, who said, "Captain Holden will accompany you over to the police station. As a courtesy we'll let you talk to your lady friend for a little bit. But after that, I'm telling you to stay away from her or we'll have you locked up for obstruction of justice faster'n you can scratch your rapidly diminishing balls. You got anything to say to that?"

"Yeah," Justin said and turned to the police captain. "Is your name really William Holden?"

When the officer didn't answer, and Silverbush just snorted in disgust and anger, Justin decided it was better if he didn't say another word, so he just turned to the door and headed out. Holden had to hustle a bit to catch up to him. Neither spoke during the two-block walk to the police station. Even if they'd wanted to, they couldn't have-the swarm of journalists was upon them, peppering them with questions and taking photos. Justin looked straight ahead and kept walking. There was usually a reasonable amount of traffic on Main Street-typical summer resort town traffic: cars driving slowly while their drivers desperately searched for a place to park-and what traffic there was now stopped cold as mass rubbernecking took hold. Pedestrians stared and people started coming out of shops to check out the commotion. Justin thought the whole scene looked like something out of a bad comedy: two stiff-as-boards cops, striding as fast as they could; a jabbering group of reporters surrounding them like a cloud of dust; the whole town watching in astonishment. Farce or slapstick, he thought. Hard to tell which.

When they reached the station, the reporters were barred from coming inside and Justin welcomed the sudden silence. He didn't much welcome the gaping stares from the young officers working the station, though. And the staring eyes only bulged farther as they watched Justin go to his desk-escorted by Captain Holden-pull out his gun, and hand it over, barrel first.

"I'd like to see Mrs. Harmon. And I'd like a few minutes of privacy."

Holden thought it over for a moment, then nodded. Mike Haversham led Justin to the one jail cell at the back of the station. As he did, he slipped a piece of paper into Justin's hand. The paper was carefully folded. Justin didn't acknowledge the exchange, nor did Haversham as Justin slipped it into his pocket.

Justin peered through the bars at Abby. She looked remarkably calm. Haggard, a bit drawn, but still cool and in control. It was hard to look as if you were in control when you were behind bars, Justin thought. He knew that from personal experience, when he'd been imprisoned and had been anything but in control.

Haversham opened the door to the jail cell and Justin stepped inside. Mike closed the door behind him, eyes aimed at the floor rather than at his now-suspended chief. The young cop shuffled back toward the central room where all the cops except Justin had their desks. He looked as if he were in mourning.

"We do meet in the strangest places," Justin said. It got a brief smile from Abby. "You all right?"

She nodded. "My lawyer should arrive soon. I'll be better when I'm out of here."

"You should probably stay in the city for a while. It'll be a lot easier on you than being out here."

Abby nodded again. "That's my plan. I'll stay in our apartment for a while, until this gets cleared up."

Justin couldn't help but notice the word "our." Now that Evan was dead, she was sharing her possessions with her husband again.

"Are you in trouble?" Abby asked.

"Depends on how you define trouble," he said. "If you mean, do I care what people think and how they're responding, no."

"Must be why we get along so well," Abby said. "We've got so much in common."

"With a few differences," Justin said.

"A few."

He reached out, took hold of both her hands. She relaxed at his touch, then tensed a bit when she realized he wasn't holding her strictly for affection. His hands felt for her forearms, and his thumbs pressed down lightly just above her wrists. She tried pulling back, but he held tight.

"I want you to relax," he told her. "And I want to ask you a few questions."

Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded.

"Did you kill Evan?" The question was casual, as if being thrown out in cocktail party conversation.

"Jay, what are you-?"

"Answer me, please. Did you kill Evan?"

"No."

"Did Dave Kelley?"

"I don't know."

"Take a guess."

"Will you let go of me, please?"

"No. Take a guess. Did Kelley murder Evan?"

"No."

"Did you know that Kelley had a stun gun?"

"What?"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't actually know what a stun gun is, but, yes, I know he had one."

"How?"

"Because he talked about it a couple of times. And he showed it to me. But it was before-"

"Before what? Before you began sleeping with him?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"How did it come up in conversation?"

"Oh, god, I have no idea. I think we'd been having some problems with animals or something-you know, digging up plants or doing something with the compost heap at the back of the property, I'm not sure."

"And?"

"And Dave said something about how he liked to take care of whatever they were, those big things with masks and ringed tails."

"Raccoons."

"Yes. Dave said that he had a stun gun. He said it was fun to use it on the raccoons."

"He had a strange idea of fun."

"Yes. He used it in front of us once, me and Evan. He showed us how it worked."

"Did you think it was fun?"

"No." She looked directly in Justin's eyes now, not flinching. "Dave could be extremely cruel sometimes." He met her stare. Finally she turned her head away and said, "Jay, what does this have to do… Oh my god… those burns. Those burns on Evan's body."

"Yes. It looks like they were from Kelley's stun gun."

"Oh my god."

"Do you still think he couldn't have done it?"

Now there was a real hesitation. This wasn't defiance, this was confusion, maybe even a touch of panic. "I don't know."

"Did you ever tell anyone you wanted Kelley to kill Evan?"

"For god's sake! No!"

"Even joking?"

"No!"

"Was Evan gay?"

"What?!" He had pushed her over the edge. Abby tried to stand up and jerk her hands away, but he refused to let go. He pulled her back down beside him, waited until she stopped resisting.

"Was he bi? Did Evan have homosexual affairs?"

"That's ridiculous."

"So you think it's impossible?"

"Jay, I'm starting to think that nothing's impossible. How can I know if Evan was doing something he didn't want me to know about?"

"Guess."

She pursed her lips and composed herself. "My husband was many things, but I'm fairly sure that gay was not one of them."

"Do you think you would know if Evan was having an affair?"

"Yes."

"Would he have told you?"

She shook her head. "Not in so many words. But he would have let me know, dropped some not-so-subtle hints. He derived a strange kind of pleasure from things like that."

"You handled it differently?"

This time she nodded. "I don't particularly like to go out of my way to hurt people."

"So you never told Evan about your affairs."

"No."

"Did he know?"

She didn't answer right away. Then slowly, she said, "I think that two people who know each other well always know when secrets are being kept. They may not acknowledge them, and they may not know the specifics, but they know."

"Did he know about me? About you and me?"

"I don't think so."

"How about you and Kelley. Did he know about that?"

Again, she took a long time before answering. Then: "I think he might have, yes."

"But you don't know it for a fact?"

"No. But I would say that he did."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure. Just… things he said. His tone. I overheard him while he was talking on the phone once… I wasn't even sure he was talking about me, but I think he knew."