“Oh, I’m sorry, I must not be making myself clear. I’m not insinuating anything. What I’m doing is making an accusation, and I’m not the only one. The investigator agrees the fire looks suspicious. He even threw around the word arson, and multiple times. If that’s the case, if the fire was intentionally set by you or someone directed by you, then that would qualify as insurance fraud. A felony.”

The words are like an ambush, prickling my skin with alarm. “Check the security footage.”

“I have. Seems the camera was turned on, but the wire from the unit to the monitor had come loose. The last recording from your security company was taken just before midnight last night, a good ten hours before the fire. The footage from today showed a blank screen.”

In other words, no way to prove who set the fire—and more importantly for this particular conversation—no insurance money from Matt today. Maybe ever.

He’s still talking, something about next steps and legal matters, but I’m not listening because a shadow has fallen across my side window. The crackhead, going for my door handle.

I press the gun to the window, the muzzle flush to the glass.

There’s a sluggish delay, a full couple of seconds before his eyes have focused on the weapon aimed at his chest, and then they widen in shock. He stumbles backward, almost stepping into traffic, missing a passing bus by a foot before he takes off in a dead run.

Matt’s voice fills the cab: “Did you hear me, Cam? I said I’m sending your case to the Special Investigations Unit for potential insurance fraud. That’s the first step into an investigation as to the origin and cause of this fire.”

I toss the gun onto the passenger’s seat and shift into gear. “That’s great, Matt. It’s just really fucking fantastic.”

I hang up and hit the gas, pulling out with a growl of motor and clattering of kicked-up gravel, my mind stuck on two facts. I have no idea where to go next, and I’m just so royally screwed.

T H E   I N T E R V I E W

Juanita: In the months since the home invasion, there have been rumors of you stiffing contractors and suppliers—

Cam: [scoffs]

Juanita: —that you created a namesake charity and used those funds to pay off your children’s private school and business liabilities—

Cam: [rolls eyes]

Juanita: —and that what you claimed was the best dry-aged specialty beef was really just meat you purchased in bulk at Costco.

Cam: Would you like the number for my distributor? I’m sure he’d be more than willing to give you a couple of choice sound bites. I still owe him more than fifty grand.