It took an hour for Nate and Lucy to drive to Horseshoe Bay. It was in Llano County, and they contacted the sheriff’s office for backup.

A lone light was on in the large A-frame-style cabin, and Simon’s vehicle was in the drive. Lucy and Nate walked to the front door and knocked, then stepped back with their hands on their guns. They didn’t know how he would react.

“Simon Mills, FBI.”

“It’s open!” he called out.

Nate motioned for Lucy to stand aside. Nate drew his gun and pushed the door in from the side. He quickly breeched the room, searching for a threat.

There was none. Simon Mills sat in a recliner chair with a nearly empty bottle of Scotch.

They showed their badges and identified themselves.

“Simon Mills,” Nate said, “you’re under arrest for illegal gaming, obstruction of justice, felony embezzlement, and if we’re lucky we’ll be tacking on a first-degree murder charge.” He read him his rights.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” he said.

Lucy kept her gun on Simon while Nate frisked him. He then handcuffed him and sat him back down on the couch.

“My parents told you I was here.”

They should take him to the station to interrogate him, but that would be a long process and the DA would probably insist he be sober. Right now they could get answers that would help them nail Faith Monroe, because a person with that much wealth could get out of the country. They would have an exit strategy, and Lucy didn’t want to give her or her husband time to implement it.

She sat on the table across from him. “What happened, Simon?”

“Everything got fucked. As soon as Harrison came back to town, everything was fucked.”

“What happened with Denise Albright?”