“Thank you.”

“I’m not gonna push that button unless you tell us the truth, Peter. It’s that simple.”

Peter looked at Lyle again and back at Max. Peter’s hands were red with blood, his leg twisted unnaturally. He breathed in spurts. They were running out of time. Max turned the device to the side so that Peter could see the red SOS button. “Just press and hold—but first, the truth.”

“He told me… he said she was abusive to Pip. He lied to me.”

“Where’s her body?” Lyle said.

Peter tipped his head back and let loose a deep, guttural cry. “I’m sorry! Please!”

“Where’s her body?”

“Hill River State Forest. Just off the road, there’s a marsh.”

Max heard Lyle move and turned to see the deer rifle again aimed at Peter’s head. Lyle looked like a man who had just walked through hell. His hair held sticks and leaves and his cheeks were hollow. He held the gun to his shoulder, but the barrel sagged with weight. His eyes burned bright with rage.

Max stood and stepped in front of Lyle’s aim.

“Get out of the way, Max.”

“Put it down.”

“He killed my girl.”

“Think about Pip.”

“Dumped her like trash.”

“He’s not worth it.”

“You’re in no position to give advice.” Lyle didn’t have to say more for Max to understand the card that Lyle had just laid on the table. Silence for silence.

Lyle tried to step around Max and again Max moved into his way. “Do what you want with me, Lyle; I’m done running, but you’re not killing this man.”

“The hell I’m not.”

Peter writhed on the ground behind Max, crying in pain. Had he been a dog, Max would have put him out of his misery, but he wasn’t a dog.

Lyle moved the barrel to point it at Peter’s head, and Max finally charged him, grabbing the rifle as Lyle fired, sending the bullet into the dirt. He slammed the heel of his hand into Lyle’s chest, sending him sprawling to the ground again. Lyle scrambled to his knees and aimed the gun wildly at Max. “I told you not to get in my way!”

“You gonna shoot me, Lyle?” Max held his arms open. “Is that what you’ve come to?”

Lyle looked hard at Max and then at Peter, who lay behind Max’s feet. Then Lyle tilted his head back and screamed like a banshee, his wail echoing through the forest. In the silence that followed, Lyle rose to his feet, slung the rifle over his shoulder, picked up his backpack, and marched into the woods.

Max was confused until he turned around to find Peter Molinar staring up at the sky through lifeless eyes.

“Aw, hell,” he whispered. He knelt down at Peter’s side and closed Peter’s eyelids. He felt no sorrow for the death of this man, in fact, had he the opportunity he would have thanked Peter for dying all on his own—for saving Lyle from the ordeal of having to kill him.