“You’ve learned a few things from your podcast, haven’t you?”

I leaned forward. “Whatever you have to say, Wendy, you should realize nobody has come looking for you. You’re still off the radar. Just tell the truth and I’ll see if I can help.”

“After you leave I’m going to spread my wings and fly without a husband, without children—and that means all of you. I’ll be able to survive just fine.”

I knew exactly how she had planned to survive, but now she didn’t have the flash drive. I wondered what she planned to do next.

“How do you know I haven’t already alerted the police?” I asked.

She waved that away. “Because you need answers first. That’s who you are, never satisfied until you have the whole picture. Besides, think how badly my little indiscretions would reflect on your podcast.”

“You think that would stop me?”

“I know you, Ryan. You would never turn in your mother or your sister, whichever way you think of me. And the truth would absolutely gut Mom and Dad, plus there’s Holly and Noelle. Do you want them to go through life knowing their mother was a murderer?”

“You’d rather just leave than try to fix this?”

“It can’t be fixed unless the police have Milt’s gun. And I don’t think they do. Am I right?”

I nodded.

“Damn him.” For a moment I thought she was going to slam her fist against the table. All this time Wendy had been hoping that the police had arrived at the casita, found the gun next to Calvo’s body and the other evidence she’d left behind, and then later identified Ex’s fingerprints in their system. My job? To find out for her, either way. Maybe hope had dwindled with time, but I thought my sister had, until this moment, continued to pin her future on this one thing.

“I know,” I said. “Imagine the nerve of the guy. He should have left it beside the body after you killed Calvo.”

She stared at me for a full minute before she spoke again. “Okay, I did kill Vítor. Not on purpose, but I pulled the trigger. And even though I know you’re not going to tell anybody, I’m not taking chances on being found.”

Wendy’s order came, although mine was still in the oven, and she turned into the sweet young widow again, beaming her thanks. Then when the server left she turned back to me. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’ve already heard one version. Why don’t you tell me yours? Start with why you went to Golden Aspen in the first place, and why you took Kearns along.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I have things you want and need.”

She assessed me. For so many years, when she’d looked at me that way, I’d thought she wanted to get closer, that she was trying to figure out how to be the best possible big sister. Now I knew she had always been plotting how best to use my obvious adoration.