Daggett grabbed the bars and pressed his face between them. “You keep that quiet!” he said. “You say one word about that and I’ll start telling tales of my own. Maybe a little something about the Ghost of the Highway, see if that gets Deputy Dawg’s interest.”

Milo gave him a smile. “I doubt it would. Those murders are fifteen years and three thousand miles away. But a self-confessed strangler from just over the border …”

“I never confessed to nothing,” Daggett said.

“You confessed to me,” said Amber. “You said you’d strangled lots of women – although you didn’t call them women, did you? You had lots of names for them, but not women.”

Daggett sneered. “Is that what this is? You’re still upset because of the name-calling?”

“I’m more upset about the actual murders.”

“Unless you want your name on that list, you little bitch, you shut the hell up.”

Milo sat on his bunk, leaned back against the wall. “I would not call her that if I were you,” he said. “You know about her, right? You know why Astaroth wants her?”

“I know enough,” said Daggett.

“So you know what I could do to you,” Amber said.

“You’d have to find me first.”

“I’ve found you, Phil. You’re right there.”

Daggett swallowed. “I’m gonna get out. They haven’t charged me with anything. I’ll get out and I’ll wait for you and you’ll never see me coming.”

“Bet I’ll smell you,” said Amber.

The door clicked, and Chief Novak came back in, carrying a fold-up chair. Daggett retreated from the bars, his bravado punctured for the moment. Amber had no doubt he’d be back to full bullshitting flow after a few minutes of sulking, so she turned all her attention to Novak.

The Chief placed the chair in front of Amber’s cell and sat and crossed his legs. He folded his hands on his thigh. His uniform pants were crisp – the crease like a thin blade. His shirt was immaculate, his badge perfectly straight. His tie hung like it was weighted.

His heavy-lidded eyes were unexceptional. They were neither dull nor bright. Forgettable eyes.

He sat there and looked at Amber and then at Milo and didn’t say anything. Milo looked back at him, in no hurry to break the silence, either. Amber felt like she was the only one whose nerves were acting up. She knew it was a ploy – the first to fill an awkward silence loses the game – but she also knew that the longer she stayed quiet, the guiltier she seemed.

“We don’t know that man,” she said, her eyes flicking to Daggett. “He drove up beside me and he had a gun. I didn’t know what to do.”

Novak nodded, and said, “Why don’t you tell me what you are?”

“I’m sorry?”