They brought in a sheriff’s car, hidden on a side road, and when Raleigh Good rolled past the Whites’ house and down the highway in Woody Garrett’s black Camaro, the cop pulled out across the highway and turned on his flashers. Virgil pulled out in the Tahoe, behind the camera, and turned on his own flashers. Good pulled the Camaro over, and when Virgil walked up and shouted, “Get out of the car!” Good got out, and asked, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Collecting you, and Jim,” Virgil said. “Jim’s already in my truck.”

“Was that you on the phone?”

“Yes, it was.”

“That goddamn Button. I will never, ever . . .”

Jenkins patted him down. “Get in the truck,” Virgil said.

—

They headed back to Wheatfield, trailed by Jenkins and the sheriff’s patrol car. Holland, looking over the seat back, asked Button, “What the hell were you thinking? Or did you think at all?”

“You’re the guys who’re gonna look like stupes when it turns out we’re right,” Button said. “Running around like your asses are on fire, gettin’ nowhere, and all you had to do was listen.”

“Why’d you think it was Osborne? Shooting his own mom?”

“For the money,” Button said.

Virgil said, “Aw, Jesus. Everybody keeps saying money, and there isn’t any.”

Button asked, “What?”

“There’s no money, Jim,” Holland said. “Barry owns the house. Margery was living there for free.”

“Well, yeah,” Button said. “But what about the Florida house?”

Virgil: “What Florida house?”

Button said to Good, “They don’t know about the Florida house.”

Good said, “What a bunch of stupes.”

Virgil looked over the seat back. “What are you talking about?”

“Where are we on this fraud thing?” Button asked. And he said to Good, “Keep your mouth shut, Raleigh.”

“We can talk,” Virgil said. “What about the Florida house?”

“You know Rose? You met her at the house, you sicced her on Clay Ford? Chick with the rose tattoo?”

“I remember,” Virgil said. “What about this house?”

“Rose cleaned house for Marge once a week when she was in Wheatfield. And she watched over Barry’s house when he drove Marge down to Florida. Marge wouldn’t fly,” Button said. “When they were packing up last fall, she heard Barry telling Marge that she ought to sell the place and move back to Wheatfield, where her friends were. They had an argument about it.”

Holland asked, “How much is it worth? The house?”

Button said, “I don’t know. Rose might. Rose is a snoop. But I bet it’s worth a lot.”

“Is Rose still at your place?” Virgil asked.

Raleigh said, “When you told her that Clay Ford might be interested, she hotfooted it right over there, and they been fuckin’ up a storm ever since. She’s moved in with him.”

“That didn’t take long,” Virgil said.