Who helped you?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Who helped you kill him?

She shook her head.

All I knew was Lonnie Jones. I didn't know who he was until I saw the paper.

So Yvonne Bennett's sister just happened to rent a room across the street from the man who was accused of murdering her?

Shit happens.

Where'd you get the pictures?

I don't know anything. I'm going to call the police.

Someone had given her the pictures. Someone had told her where to find Lionel Byrd and had put the plan in her head and convinced her she could finally make the man who murdered her sister pay. Someone had used her, and I thought it might be Wilts. If Wilts wanted to set up Byrd to stop the Repko investigation, it had to be Wilts, but I didn't have proof.

Was it Wilts?

What are you talking about?

Did Wilts give you the pictures?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Her eyes were clear and unafraid, and I knew she wasn't going to admit to any of it. I called Pike on my cell.

She's here. I have her.

I'm on my way.

I put away the phone, then looked through Jonna's things. I was mostly checking for a gun or knife or something she might kill me with, but I found a copy of Lionel Byrd's original arrest report and court documents relating to the dismissal of the charges against him.

I held them up to show her.

This is what we call evidence.

She raised her middle finger.

This is what we call the finger. You don't have shit.

Her wallet, keys, sunglasses, and two cell phones were on the kitchenette counter. I didn't pay attention to the phones at first, but one was familiar. It was a clunky, inexpensive knockoff, exactly the same phone pictured on the spec sheet I found in Marx's file.

When I picked up the phone, Jonna shifted uneasily.

I don't know why you're doing this to me, but I'm going to have you arrested. That's no bullshit.

I touched a finger to my lips. Shh.

That isn't my phone. I found it.

Shh.

The more I examined the phone, the more certain I became. Jonna's other phone was a nice little Motorola, but the Kyoto was identical to the disposable phone in Marx's file. Debra Repko had received six calls from a prepaid number assigned to the same model phone. She had called a similar phone on her PDA.

Pike turned into the drive behind the Neon and let himself through the door. He nodded when he entered, but said nothing. Jonna's eyes widened as if he were a cobra. I showed him the phone.

Look familiar?

The disposable.

Uh-huh.

I turned on the phone and watched the display as the phone found a signal. It took me a minute to figure out how to access the call list, then I scrolled through the outgoing calls. Maybe I smiled. All the outgoing calls had been placed to the same number, and it was a number I recognized.