In Joey Richter’s trial for manslaughter, criminal possession of a weapon, and conspiracy to commit murder, the evidence was overwhelming. The state made no missteps. The prosecutors went light on Cloud technology and didn’t rely on the gruesome photographs. They focused instead on hard evidence that a jury could easily understand. Like the Ruger recovered from a custodial closet at the Rooms4Rent where Joey Richter had been staying and that firearm’s brutal history.

Best of all, Zack didn’t have to take the stand. The case against Joey Richter no longer revolved around Zack’s testimony. The prosecutors decided that Zack was too risky as a witness. If he told his whole story on the stand—mistakenly swapping iPhones with an assassin, then swapping matching disposable phones, a bomb planted in a courtroom, helping to foil its detonation from the witness stand—it would sound unbelievable to a jury. It would create significant doubt. The prosecutors couldn’t take that chance.

The jury deliberated for only a day. According to statutes, the judge had significant leeway in sentencing. Joey got thirty years.

“They treating you okay here?” Zack asks.

“They always have,” says Joey.

“Well, I wanted to see you, check on you, and well, say thanks for helping to save everyone’s life,” says Zack.

“A professional killer. Who took lives for money,” says Joey. “And then saved them for free.” Obviously it was a moment Joey had thought about.

Zack leans forward toward the divider. “And why did you?” he asks. He’s been wondering about it for weeks. Because Joey Richter would not have suddenly been interested in saving lives. He would not have suddenly gotten religion or worried about meeting his maker, none of that.

Joey smiles thinly. “I didn’t care about saving those people. All those clerks and guards and justice system jerks. All those media leeches. Lopez. Your girlfriend. I didn’t give a shit about any of them. I didn’t even care about saving myself. I’d be just as happy to blow us all up.” He looks hard, unsmiling at Zack. You know it’s true.

“Then why?”

He shrugs. “I wanted to show you how smart I am, that’s all.”

Zack looks at him.

“Prove it to you,” Joey says. Adding, more quietly, “Prove it to myself.”

“Well, I’ve got to admit it…you proved it,” Zack says. “That was some quick thinking.”

Quick thinking by both of them, Zack knows. Quick, accidental teamwork.

Lives saved by a couple of texts. A misleading, confusing, merely numerical one from Zack to Karloff. A truthful, direct one from Joey to Lopez.

“So listen,” says Joey, “since we’re talking about why. Now it’s my turn to ask. You were willing to see me, to help me, when I reached out to you. Why?”

Zack shrugs. “You had no one else.”