Because the truth of the matter was, there’d been a major change in Shana’s life starting three months ago. And that had been Charlie Sgarzi, aka the Great Pretender, supposedly working on his book. What were the odds that Charlie’s reappearance and Shana’s disappearance weren’t related?

“You think Charlie would help her?” D.D. repeated.

Hayes made a face. “The Shana I knew . . . She was crazy, and not in a good way. Whatever I might have thought about Charlie, he was never stupid. In fact, he was pretty fucking clever. So him, choosing to get involved with her . . . Nah, I don’t see it. Then again, people change.”

“Have you changed?”

Hayes nailed her with a look, gestured to the chair.

“I mean since that night, what did you learn?”

“Don’t let your foster sister play with sharp objects.”

“Mrs. Davies misses you.”

Hayes squirmed, the guilty flush back on his face. “Are we done?”

“We’re going to take your Harry Day gift package.”

“Fuck!”

“But maybe, if we can corroborate your story, one day we’ll give the items back.”

“Nah.” Hayes seemed to surprise even himself with his change of heart. “I don’t want them. The money, sure. But the actual stuff . . . Harry Day hurt people, you know. Ruined lives. Destroyed families. And so did Shana. Mr. and Mrs. Davies, they were really good people. And after that . . . You’re right; I should call Mrs. Davies more. I just . . . I never want to bother her, when, of course, the thing she likes best is to be bothered. Guess I didn’t change. Thirty years later, I’m the same stupid shit.”

D.D. didn’t have anything to add to that.

She and Phil thanked Hayes for his time; then Phil collected the manila envelope and its enclosed documents. They gave Hayes the same spiel they’d given Mrs. Davies about keeping a low profile; then they were out the door.

“Charlie Sgarzi,” Phil said, shaking his head as they quickly descended the stairs. “I don’t get it. First he tells us he blames Shana for ruining his family. When in fact he was preying on his own cousin. Then he claims to be having a vigil at the MCI to hold Shana responsible for his mother’s death, but a day later, returns to help break Shana out of prison? To what end . . . ? A better scene for his novel?”

“I don’t understand Charlie’s relationship with Shana any better than you do,” D.D. assured him. “But as far as being the lead suspect for the Rose Killer murders . . . Forget some long-lost girl AnaRose Simmons or wheelchair-bound foster brother Samuel Hayes. Charlie Sgarzi’s looking good to me.”

“You understand that means he killed his own mom. The same son who slept on her sofa every night, brought her favorite soup, tended to her every need? This is our lead suspect?”