Ignoring the Feds, Malone and Cruz loaded Jacoby into their SUV for the ride back to the city. The West Virginia State Police team came to collect their captain.

Malone shook hands with the injured man. “Thanks a lot for the help. We owe you one.”

“Anytime,” he said, his face twisted in obvious pain.

As Freddie got into the backseat next to their prisoner, his phone chimed with a text from Elin.

They’re reporting shots fired outside Jacoby’s place. Tell me you’re all right.

I’m good, and we got him. On the way back now.

Thank God.

Freddie’s next text was to Sam. We’ve got Jacoby. On the way back now. Got a little hairy there for a minute or two. He fired on the WVSP and it went downhill fast from there.

Anyone hurt?

Their incident commander was hit in the vest. He’s ok.

So Jacoby actually fired on you guys?

Yep.

Nothing says ‘I’m guilty’ quite like firing on law enforcement.

No kidding. I get to sit next to him on the ride back. Good times.

Can’t wait to hear what he has to say for himself. BTW, Josh is awake and I got to talk to him. He’s confused about why Dustin would’ve taken him or killed his father. I told him about the DNA. The poor guy has a lot to contend with.

For sure. I’m glad he’s awake anyway.

Yeah... Tell Malone to call me before he talks to Jacoby. I’ve got more.

Ok.

They rode back to the city in silence. Jacoby stared out the window the whole way and didn’t utter a word to any of them, and Freddie fully expected the deputy director wouldn’t willingly say anything to them. Ever.

* * *

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND why I’m here,” Courtney Hamilton said. “My husband was murdered, and I’m being arrested? I was in Virginia all day Sunday. I had nothing to do with it.”

“We have some questions for you, and the Feds wouldn’t let us near you,” Jeannie McBride said. “They gave us no choice but to take you into custody.”

“I spoke to Agent Hill and your chief the other night. I told them what I know.”

Working from the notes Sam had supplied from her trip to Knoxville, Jeannie said, “You didn’t mention that you and your husband were separated for a time thirty years ago.”

“What in the world does that have to do with him being murdered?”

“I’ll get to that. Why did you separate from your husband and take your children home to Virginia while he stayed in Knoxville?”

“That’s our personal business, and it was thirty years ago. What does that have to do with anything?”

“We ask the questions, Mrs. Hamilton,” Tyrone said. “You answer them. That’s how this works.”