“I threw him over the edge of the town. I’m sure the plants have destroyed his body by now. What does it matter? Nobody cared about him when he was alive.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He was agitated, but his body was calm. She heard it only in his voice when he said, “I don’t think people can’t handle their parents dying. I’m not an idiot.”

“Then what are you?” Izabel asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

He seemed upset again. It seemed like he was actually considering the question. Izabel almost regretted asking it. She didn’t know what she was either. What kind of person could she be, having gotten herself entangled in the most abominable crimes of the last ten years, and enjoying it?

She felt a single strand of self-hatred move through her like a worm. And if Patrick was like her, which she knew he was, to some extent, then he felt it, too.

She opened her file to the list of murders. “Did you cut through the house at Fourteen Third Street on the night of April eighth resulting in the deaths of Karen, Peter, Tamy, and Tavi Coughlan?”

“Don’t say anything,” the lawyer said.

But Patrick said, “Yes.”

She went down the list and he said yes to all of them.

    Chapter Thirty-Five

When they got out of the room, Andy hugged her. “I never want to do anything like that ever again,” Andy said.

Izabel nodded.

Opa and Paz came out from the adjacent room. Opa hugged her, too.

“Look at you,” Paz said. “You got a confession.”

“Is that it then?” Izabel asked.

“Well, court’s not going to love the interview. Wasn’t exactly a model of professionalism, was it? But we didn’t violate his rights, so I think we’ll be alright.”

“And I don’t have to see him again?”

“You’ll see him at trial. Star witness, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?” Paz said.

“I can’t quite believe it. That it’s done.”

“You can talk to Opa about shit like that.” Paz laughed. “Seriously though. You ever thought about working for us?”

“The police?”

“On the federal level. Profiler. Interrogator. That sort of thing.”

“No,” Izabel said.

“Would you think about it?”

Izabel didn’t say anything for a second.

“What?” Paz said.

“I didn’t even finish school.”

“You know how the kids do it these days—I’d take you as my shadow. You’ve got good instincts, and you’re absurdly brave, like so absurd you might want to talk to Opa about that, too.” Paz laughed again.

Opa smiled, but she clearly didn’t love Paz’s jokes about her work.

“Think about it,” Paz said. “You’d have to move to the capital, but they’re going to move you down there for the trial anyway.”

“Why will the trial be there?”