56

The ruckus down the hall continued, and I realized that Steele Vankle must’ve locked Beau and Purvis in the bathroom.

I stared at what had originally caught my attention on the dining table.

“I appreciate you coming in person to return my cuffs,” I said.

“Your weapon,” Vankle said softly.

I pointed to my waist, where I kept my Glock tucked. Took it out slowly and dropped it on the ground.

“Toss it out the front door,” he said. “And close the door afterward.”

I placed the gun onto the concrete of the porch and shut the door.

As I moved toward the couch, he shook his head. Directed me instead to the far wall.

“Now ease on down,” Vankle said, the .45 trained on me. “Hands behind your back.”

He watched me drop to the ground and held his cannon on me. Never shaking. Never looking nervous.

“Don’t you want to know who I am?” he asked.

“I know who you are, Steele,” I said.

The sound of Beau slamming against the bathroom door changed. A different tone. More muffled. Softer. The dog had worn himself out.

“What I didn’t know until recently was that you were running Oxy under that liquor store.”

I stared at Vankle, holding the gun on me. If I was to die here, what did I still want to know? I knew about Christian Pelo. Could guess at John Adrian’s fate.

“My wife and son,” I said, my voice gravelly. “Why?”

Vankle exhaled. “Your wife was supposed to be an accident,” he said. “Nothing more than a bump to her car to get you off our backs. I mean, you’re a cop after all.”

“Meaning what?”

“No one was supposed to die. We were just trying to scare you. And believe me, it created so much damn trouble, I wish I never called him.”

“Called Tarticoft, you mean?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Vankle said. “The nerve of him coming back afterward. Trying to charge us more money. Just ’cause she went off the road and died.”

I swallowed, hearing how callously he talked about Lena and Jonas. I wanted to strangle him.

“Us,” I said. “Meaning you and Hartley?”

Vankle stood up then, a resigned look on his face. “Close your eyes, bud. You’re gonna be with your family real soon if you believe in that sorta thing.”

There was a small noise then. A wisp like plastic flapping in the wind.

And down from the bedroom came Beau. He must’ve snapped open the window frame from the bathroom and jumped into the backyard. The wisp I heard was the doggie door.

Beau ran into the room, and it was just enough to distract Vankle. Just as the dog flew through the air and attached to his leg.

I leapt for the gun, and knocked it from Vankle’s hands.

The .45 skittered across the floor, and I tackled him just as Beau bit at his leg.

But Vankle was fitter than me, and he rolled out from under my weight, connecting hard with a fist into Beau’s side.