“Manager unlocks the door, mutters about having to clean up blood . . . again . . . then disappears back down the hall. Whatever is going to happen next, he doesn’t want to know. Phil assumes the lead, I take his back, and we get down to business.

“First thing we spot upon entering is a black duffel sitting near the door. After that, the dank, one-bedroom appears empty. Neither of us, however, are buying it. Inch by inch, we scour the unit. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later we discover Harmony LaFab, as she’s called, hiding under her bed. I do the honors of grabbing her ankle and dragging her out.

“Harmony turns out to be five foot nothing, rail thin, with more poufy blond hair than bones in her body and, yes, arms streaked with blood. She’s definitely who we’ve been looking for.

“Now this is the crazy part: I don’t even get a chance to read her her rights before she starts talking.

“‘It’s not what you think, it’s not what you think, it’s not what you think,’ she babbles immediately.

“‘It never is,’ I assure her, reaching for my cuffs.

“‘But I didn’t do nothing. Just brought the Oxy. The leg . . . He did it himself. Swear to God. Fool idiot chewed up a bunch of Oxy, then sawed his own damn leg off!’”

• • •

“Back to our game. Three truths and a lie. How are we doing?”

“She’s lying,” a woman to the left spoke up immediately. “She’s covered in blood, has the victim’s possessions. Of course she’s lying.”

“It’s a good theory,” D.D. agreed. “Certainly, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had an obvious murder suspect who still felt a need to deny, deny, deny. Most of the stories I get from suspects, witnesses, even the victim’s supposed loved ones, involve at least some lies. But in my experience, it’s always a mistake to rush to judgment. Even when dealing with a blood-soaked suspect, first thing a good detective does is listen.

“This is the story we get from Harmony LaFab: The night manager of the seedy motel has a side gig. He sells illegal drugs. Also, he sets up business for the local girls for a fee. Harmony’s evening starts with a call from the manager. He has a customer who wants Oxy, plus some companionship. Manager—let’s call him Shaggy—told his customer to return in two hours. During this window, Harmony is put in charge of the drugs and goes to the room—allowing enough time to pass to delete her presence from the security video. Eliminating questions for both her and the night manager, right?

“According to Harmony, when our DG first enters, she’s a little surprised. Not by the nice clothes—her clientele runs the gamut—but that the guy is beaming. He seems both extremely happy and a bit nervous. The prospect of drugs, sex, who knows, but in Harmony’s line of work, very few people are as up as this guy.