“Now listen.” Rengo scratched Lucy’s butt once more. Then he looked at Burke square. “Ty drowned under that dock because he drank too much and got stupid. Didn’t have nothing to do with Kirby Harwood, the way I heard it.”

“Yeah?” Jess said. “And who told you that?”

“People.” Rengo fidgeted again. The dog twisted and nuzzled her snout between his hands, and he pet her, absently, as he talked. “I mean, it’s just common knowledge. Anyway, like I told Kirby, I don’t know anything about whatever it is you all are looking for. Ty never told me nothing, and if he’d have hid something here, I’d have found it by now.” Rengo looked at Lucy again, then at Jess. “But listen, if you’re looking for what turns Kirby’s motor, it ain’t what me and Ty was up to out here. This is small-time, comparatively speaking.”

“And why’s that?”

Rengo sat back in that beat-up old armchair and regarded them, smiling like he had the upper hand now, like he knew a secret. Lucy settled down at his feet, sighing contentedly. It seemed she’d decided the kid wasn’t a threat.

“You go down to the docks downtown Deception Cove, look out across the water, what do you see?” Rengo said.

“Canada?” Jess said after a beat.

“Fuck Canada,” Rengo said. “Try again.”

She thought about it. Burke did the same. Lucy laid her head down on the floor of the trailer, her collar tinkling, metallic, as she shifted. Then Burke let out his breath.

“The ships,” he said. “Those cargo ships out there.”

Rengo slapped his hand on his knee. “Give the man a prize. It’s ships, man, thousands of them, from everywhere in the world you can think of, carrying anything you can think of—legal or not.”

“Harwood has that boat,” Burke said, nodding. “Seemed awfully proud of it.”

“As well he should be,” Rengo replied. “Boat’s probably paid for itself and that big old truck many times over by now. You don’t buy that shit on a deputy’s salary. Not cooking meth, either.”

“So what?” Jess said. “Spell this out for me, Rengo.”

“Coast Guard can’t search every ship that comes by here,” Rengo said. “Ship comes through, dead of night, pissing rain, nobody’s going to notice if someone throws a package off the back. Give it a life jacket, GPS beacon, and you’re set.” He sat forward again. “Rumor is, Kirby’s got a deal going with some heavy hitters from back inland—Nigerians, I believe. I heard it’s heroin, but I also heard other stuff. But whatever he’s doing, he takes a nice cut for his troubles.”

Jess frowned. Rubbed her eyes. This had been a long day already, and it was still only midafternoon. What else was she going to find out about her goddamn husband before her head hit a pillow tonight?