But I’m the one who’s silent this time as I carefully fold the pillowcase that turned black in UV light. Paper rattles loudly as I package evidence and Benton watches. I feel his eyes on me. I sense he’s busy with his phone. Another scheme, another manipulation, I can’t help but think as I uncap a Sharpie and smell the bright odor of ink. I take off my gloves. I close the scene case and pick it up.

Non fare i patti con il diavolo, my father used to say.

“One thing I was taught when I was growing up”—I meet Benton’s eyes—“is don’t make a contract with the devil. The very act of acquiescing will land you in a pit you can’t climb out of. Or is it too late?”

Benton continues to stand in front of the closed door. Judging by the blank look on his face he has no idea what I’m talking about. But it isn’t true. I feel strongly that it isn’t. He may not know everything going on but he knows most of it. He’s responsible for some of it at the very least, and I find it remarkable to contemplate the position I find myself in. I can’t tell what is Carrie’s bad behavior and what is the federal government’s or my husband’s.

“Is what too late, Kay?” Benton asks.

“Whatever you’ve done,” I reply. “And that includes the videos I’ve been watching today, watching against my will I might add. Since I didn’t exactly ask for them. Nor has anyone confessed to sending them. And if you know what I’m talking about and I suspect you do?” I add and the more I allude to the Depraved Heart videos the quieter he gets.

He knows.

“Well I just hope you’re sure, Benton. Because you’re playing with fire. You shouldn’t dance Carrie Grethen’s dance or get into her dialogue.” I hold his stare for a beat and hear distant footsteps in the hallway.

What’s done is done, and Benton isn’t going to listen. I can look at him and tell it’s too late to stop whatever he’s put into motion.

“I have evidence rounds to make and cases to check on.” I move past him as footsteps in the hallway get closer, and I hear Marino’s voice. “You can ride with me to the office. Unless you’d rather wait for your colleagues,” I say to Benton as I open the door.

“You need to hold on.” Marino is firm but low-key for him. “Ma’am? Let me …? It’s real important they know what you just told me.”

“You’re damn right it’s important!” Amanda Gilbert rolls toward us like a gale and I almost don’t recognize the famous producer.