Just as in the hospital, Brody presents himself as a pragmatic negotiator rather than a ruthless predator. Could this show of civility mean Caitlin is right? Might he actually consider making a deal? Maybe killing us would cause too much of an uproar. Maybe he only wanted to scare us sufficiently before making his demands. But then I remember … his men just killed a cop.

“I asked for more than the APB to be canceled,” I remind him. “What about the dead state trooper?”

Brody shrugs as if this is of no consequence. “Trooper Dunn was murdered by a Mexican drug gang operating out of South Louisiana. Two witnesses will testify to that, and Sonny Thornfield will repudiate his earlier accusations about Dr. Cage. They were the result of hallucinations brought on by a reaction to prescription drugs. In actuality, Dr. Cage saved Thornfield’s life.”

Caitlin shakes her head in wonder. “Black is white, and white is black.”

A glint of pride shines in the cold gray eyes. “In the right hands, my dear, that’s true.”

“And Viola’s death?” I ask.

“Viola Turner was murdered by either Glenn Morehouse or Sonny Thornfield. Frankly, I’m not sure that’s been decided yet. Perhaps both. But does it really matter?”

“Thornfield would confess?” I ask.

Royal smiles. “I’m not sure he’ll be able to. I think last night’s heart attack may prove fatal after all.”

“My God,” Caitlin breathes. “Why would they kill their own man?”

Brody steeples his fingers and speaks with disinterested precision. “After Sonny’s meeting with Dr. Cage and Ranger Garrity, I’m not sure Forrest is fully convinced of Thornfield’s—reliability.”

“I’m not seeing anything like what we want,” Randall Regan interjects, still scanning his computer screen. “I’ve checked his SIM card and phone. I just killed the backup power source on Cage’s phone—the Bureau can track that, even with the main battery removed. Moving on to hers now.”

Brody waves his hand as though dealing with a manservant. “Clearly a lot of people are going to great lengths to accommodate you, Mayor. And to spare Dr. Cage a trial, or even his life. So … I’ll have the name of the witness now.”

I glance at Caitlin, who’s giving a good impression of calm self-possession. “One question, Brody, before we give you that name. For my own knowledge. Who really killed Viola Turner? You? Did you order it?”

The sleek head tilts, and once again I see the eyes of a falcon sighting down on prey a thousand feet below it. “Are you stalling, Mayor? It’s really not worth it. The cavalry’s not coming. You already received a text from Sheriff Dennis, during the drive over. Read it, Randall.”

Regan taps some keys, then says: “‘Good luck with whatever your play is, brother. I’m praying for your daddy. Get some rest tonight, and I’ll get the other thing going.’”