“The year the Patriot Posse disbanded.”

“Yes. As you know, Grady Winge is not the sharpest knife in the drawer. And he was still drinking back in ’ninety-eight. Winge let slip to others in the posse that Bogan had killed Cale and Cindi. According to Danner, certain group members used that knowledge to blackmail Bogan.”

“They made him their whore,” Slidell said.

“When Eli Hand died, higher-ups in the posse pressed Bogan into service to dispose of his body,” Williams said. “As with Cindi and Cale, Bogan forced Winge to do the dirty work.”

“Conveniently, at the time they were filling potholes at the Speedway,” Slidell said.

It seemed incredible that a person, even one with Winge’s limited IQ, could be pressured to do such a thing.

“How do you get someone to cram a corpse into a barrel, cover it with asphalt, and haul it to a landfill?” I asked.

“Bogan told Winge if he refused to dump Hand, he’d make sure Winge took the fall for Cindi and Cale. And he threatened to burn Mama Winge’s place to the ground.”

“It was Bogan who killed Eugene Fries’s dog and torched his house,” I guessed.

Williams nodded. “And it was Bogan who was stalking Wayne Gamble.”

I considered that. “When Gamble first came to see me at the MCME, he offered to locate Cale Lovette’s father and give him a call. He must have done that.”

“Freaked Bogan out.” Slidell was playing with a water globe I keep on my desk, a gift from my nephew Kit.

“Bogan used his usual MO to try to dissuade Gamble from pursuing the reopening of his sister’s case,” Williams said. “But this time intimidation didn’t work.”

I remembered Gamble’s calls to me, the anger and fear in his voice as he talked of his stalker. Again felt the heavy weight of guilt.

“It was Bogan who threatened Galimore,” Williams added. “And you.”

I thought back to the day at CB Botanicals. The greenhouse. Daytona.

“His cat startled me, and I dropped my iPhone. Bogan probably got my number while pretending to clean it. But he was with me when the call came in.”

“When Bogan went to the kitchen for sodas, he phoned an employee, offered fifty dollars, and provided your number and the message to be delivered or left on voice mail.”

The kid on the ladder cleaning the gutters: Bogan’s call must have beeped in while he was listening to music on his cell phone. Fifty bucks? Sure. The kid hit a few keys. Done.

“That a bird?” Slidell was holding the globe up to the light, squinting at the object sealed inside.

“It’s a duck. Please put it down. How did Eli Hand die?”

“Danner claims it was accidental self-poisoning,” Williams said.

“The prick pricked himself.”

I ignored Slidell’s witticism.

“Hand’s skull was fractured.”