“Sure. I wonder why I didn’t better secure that fucking ladder. Or why I thought it was so important to work on the roof, even though it was drizzling out. I wonder about a lot of things, Detective. Doesn’t mean I get the answers.”

“You understand how this looks,” Phil stated.

“You mean, like I had thousands of dollars’ worth of reasons to help Shana escape and Harry Day become front-page news again? Except I haven’t even spoken to Shana in thirty years. Not to mention she scares the shit out of me. And, by the way, I can’t walk or drive. Some great accomplice I’d make.”

“There are hand-controlled vehicles for people in a wheelchair,” D.D. said.

Hayes gave her a look. “Does this look like the apartment of a guy who can afford a custom rig? You know why I listed that stupid note? Because I could use the cash. And the first thing I’d like to do is get myself into a building with an elevator. I’m not dreaming big these days, Detective. I’m just happy I still dream.”

“Tell us about Donnie Johnson,” Phil said.

Hayes blinked. “Huh?”

“Donnie Johnson. Thirty years ago. What did you see that evening?”

“Nothing. I was in my room doing homework. I didn’t come out until after all the commotion. Mrs. Davies yelling to Mr. Davies that something was wrong with Shana.”

“Did you see Shana?”

“No. Her room was on the third floor. After the um . . . incident . . . Mr. and Mrs. Davies moved my room to the second floor, closest to them. I remember walking out into the hallway, then realizing there was blood smeared on the stairs. But by then, the front door was banging open, Donnie’s father bursting into the house . . . It scared me. All these adults, looking so out of control. I retreated to my bedroom and stayed there.”

D.D. decided to gamble. “That’s not what Charlie Sgarzi says. He claims you were jealous of his relationship with Shana. And you turned on his cousin in revenge.”

Hayes frowned. “Charlie? Charlie Sgarzi? What does he have to do with any of this?”

“We told you; we’re looking into all of Shana’s former associates. And given that she and Charlie were also once an item—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What?”

Hayes’s voice had picked up. Hostility? Jealousy? D.D. and Phil exchanged another glance, Phil’s hand once more wavering near his holster.

“Charlie Sgarzi claims he and Shana had a relationship of sorts,” D.D. said slowly. “He described them as being fuck buddies.”

“Bullshit!”

The word cracked around the tiny space.

D.D. didn’t speak again, merely waited.

Hayes ran his hand through his disheveled brown hair. Then again. “Hang on. I got something else to show you. It’ll just take a sec.”