It smelled marginally less bad inside Rengo’s trailer than outside in the compound, but that was only because of the twenty-five or so car air fresheners the kid had hanging from the ceiling like Christmas ornaments. The air wasn’t so much fresh as it was some chemical approximation of Royal Pine, and the effect wasn’t so much soothing as it was suffocating. Jess had been in some smelly situations in her brief time on Earth, and she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t take a sewage cesspool in Afghanistan over Rengo’s dank little home.

The trailer was set up like the usual: bedroom on one end, and a kitchen and living area on the other.

“Shitter don’t work,” Rengo said, leading them to a filthy couch and an armchair bandaged clumsily with duct tape to keep the stuffing in. “Still working on those creature comforts.”

Burke remained standing. Lucy nosed about, wandered into the kitchen, took a cursory glance down the hall to the bedroom, then came back to where Burke stood by the front door, and lay down at his feet.

“We won’t be staying long,” Jess replied, brushing off the couch before sitting down, the shotgun in her lap. “Don’t want to take up too much of your day.”

“My day?” Rengo grinned for the first time. It was a wide, boyish smile, and she realized he was younger than she’d pegged him for. “Shit, lady, I wasn’t exactly full up with appointments before you all came along.”

He sat in the armchair. Leaned forward. “Now, what is it you think I can tell you about?”

“My husband,” Jess said. “I want to know exactly what he was into, and why it’s got Kirby Harwood and his two useless deputies making my life hell.”

Rengo’s smile disappeared. “You think I had something to do with that?”

“You worked with Ty, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, we cooked together,” the kid said. “But shit, that wasn’t nothing that Kirby cared about. Not unless he was coming around for a taste.”

“He killed the lady’s husband.” Burke, from the door. “And he tore up your spot, looking for something. We aim to figure out what it is.”

Rengo raised his hands. Glanced at Lucy again, tried a smile at her, and the dog—damn her—scrambled to her feet and went over to him, wagging her tail and licking at his hands and turning around to put her big butt in his face for scratches. Rengo laughed, a childish giggle, and pet her like a boy would a puppy, delighted.

“Big, tough pit bull, huh?” he said as Lucy twisted back with her long pink tongue, trying like hell to lick his face. “You’re a vicious dog, aren’t you?”

Jess and Burke swapped looks, and Jess rolled her eyes. Traitor. Burke cleared his throat. “We were talking about Ty,” he said. “Maybe you want to focus.”