“The elusive Mr. Smith.” Ollie snorted in disgust. “Fast admits driving Ruben to Montreal and setting her up in Saint-Hyacinthe. Says she wanted to go. God knows what the slimeball promised her.”

“Who paid her bills?”

“Fast encouraged Ruben to do, shall we say, in-home entertaining. Sent tricks her way. If the income fell short, he and Tyne picked up the slack. Saw it as a business expense. Once Ruben’s claim passed to Snook and Snook signed over the claims to Tyne’s foundation, Ruben was out on her ass. Or worse.”

“Those heartless bastards.”

“Any word on paternity?” Ollie asked.

“Yes.” I’d gotten the call during my discharge from the hospital that morning. “Rocky fathered the infant hidden under the bathroom sink. Because the others are mummified or skeletal, their DNA is degraded, so analysis will take longer. And may never be conclusive.”

“You know what Fast told her?”

I gave a tight shake of my head.

“Apparently, the first kid was stillborn. He’s fingering Tyne for that one, by the way. Not wanting to deal with the inconvenience of doctors or birth control, Fast told Ruben she had a genetic defect so all her babies would die. Said if she ever had another one, she should ignore it, then hide the body where it wouldn’t be found.”

A chaos of emotions short-circuited my tongue. Anger. Sorrow. Guilt. Others I couldn’t label.

I swallowed.

“Ryan and I are going to grab some lunch. You want to join us?”

“Are you and Detective Douchebag—?” He shrugged. “You know.”

“No,” I said.

For a moment Ollie’s eyes sought to reach inside my head. Then he palm-smacked his knees and stood. “I’ll pass.”

I walked him to the door. “Thanks for staying, Ollie. Really. It means a lot to me.”

“Couldn’t have Detective Douchebag blowing the takedown.”

“You and Detective Douchebag make a damn fine team.”

“Fill in the name. I hear that a lot.”

I rose up on my toes and kissed Ollie’s cheek. He tried for a bear hug, but I dodged.

“You know I’d give my left nut for an invite to Charlotte.”

“Sergeant Hasty, I assure you, your nut is safe.”

When Ollie had gone, I finished packing, rolled my suitcase downstairs and out to the Camry, then turned in my room key.

Ryan was at our usual table by the window.

I ordered a club sandwich. Ryan went with a cheeseburger.

We ate in silence. Good silence. Comfortable. Now and then I took one of Ryan’s fries. He snagged my pickle.

I didn’t ask about Lily. Ryan would set the agenda there, share when he wanted. I would listen.

During his visits to the hospital, Ryan and I had dissected every aspect of the past week’s events. Neither of us felt the need to rehash that.