Nathan knew when someone was lying to him. It was hard to describe. Maybe it was in the eyes, or micro changes in body language, but whatever it was, it didn’t matter. This guy was holding something back, something he was willing to risk a great deal of pain over.

“Okay,” Nathan said. “This isn’t personal, you understand that, right? I’m just doing my job.” He walked behind Knife’s chair and began cutting the duct tape. He sensed the man relax a little. Good. Now take it away. He stopped cutting the tape and grunted as though something wasn’t quite right. “What about the cash?” he whispered in Knife’s ear.

Knife stiffened a little.

“The cash,” Nathan said, watching Knife’s reaction. A bull’s-eye. A direct hit. Knife gave it away as clearly as a kid who looks down after peeing his pants. Cash. Emergency money. Probably lots of it, and without a doubt, it was hands-off as far as these two mutts were concerned. It made perfect sense. The Bridgestones probably had stashes all over the place. The Bridgestones were many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. They hadn’t been able to come here because the FBI stakeout had started before the raid on the compound.

“There’s no cash,” Knife said, but it sounded weak, unconvincing.

Nathan shook his head and looked at Fork, who was nodding furiously. “I think your brother has something to tell us.”

Nathan yanked the tape from Fork’s mouth.

“It’s buried near the garage. Leonard told us if we ever touched it, he’d kill us.”

Knife glared at his brother with pure hatred in his eyes.

“Your bro here sounds upset,” Nathan said. “I’m a little disappointed you didn’t mention it earlier, Billy.”

“Look man, I’m sorry, I wanted to, I really did. You don’t understand, they said they’d kill us. Our cousins are crazy.”

Nathan faced Knife. “It’s simple, really. If anything happens to your beloved cousins, like life imprisonment or death, the cash would be yours, right? They’d be out of the picture, so it’s easy money. There’s no need to ask where your cousins are, because if you knew, you’d give them up. Then the money would be yours. Right?”

Knife didn’t respond.

Nathan looked at Billy. “Right?”

“I guess.”

“You mean you hadn’t thought of that? Your brother sure had.”

“You’re so fuckin’ stupid, Billy.”

“Easy now,” Nathan said. “He saved you a ton of pain. I would’ve wrung it out of you eventually. You might need a wheelchair and a colostomy bag for the rest of your life, but you would’ve told me. In fact, I think you owe your brother a thank-you for sparing you all that discomfort.”

Knife wouldn’t look at his brother. “Thanks.”

“That wasn’t so bad, was it? Don’t you feel better now?”