“So he’s not going to be telling anyone about you hiring him. But I have to say, he wasn’t very good.”

Hesitantly, Broadhurst asked, “What about the kid?”

“Jeremy?” I smiled and shook my head. “He’s alive, but he’s not going to be a problem for you.”

“How do you mean?”

I leaned forward again. “This whole stick-shift thing I raised with Finch? I never brought it up with Jeremy. Far as he knows, he still drove that car. He doesn’t even know it’s got a manual transmission. I don’t know if you and Grant gave that a thought. I guess it never even came up. So, anyway, that problem is no longer on the table. The kid thinks he did it.”

“Okay,” he said slowly.

“And he doesn’t know about Kiln. I caught the son of a bitch setting fire to the beach house. Took him out fast. Bundled him up, weighted him down, took him out into Cape Cod Bay. He’s not going to be coming back up.” I smiled. “I know how to do these things.”

“But . . . the fire . . .”

I shrugged. “Arson. Told the cops that all sorts of Internet whackjobs have been trying to get Jeremy. Could have been any one of a thousand nuts. That was the plan, right? That the cops would think it was one of them, not a targeted hit because of what I’d figured out.”

Broadhurst wrapped his hands around the warm mug of coffee.

“So here’s the thing,” I said. “You’re pretty much in the clear. Only one who really knows the score who shouldn’t is me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Let me guess.”

I smiled. “I bet you’re going to get this right.”

“How much?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. “But before we talk money, I just want to know what happened after you ran down the girl? Did you even try to save her?”

A long pause. “Yes,” he said. “I mean, I would have tried, if she’d been alive. I would have done the right thing.”

“Of course you would.”

“I . . . I had an argument with one of the party guests. This woman I’d been seeing. Stupid bitch said I’d been fooling around on her.”

I grinned. “Was she right?”

Broadhurst grimaced. “Kinda. Anyway, I’d had a little too much to drink, and said some things, and I needed to blow off some steam. I slipped out the back door of the house, came around to the front and got in the car. Took off up the road and . . . You have to understand, I wasn’t drunk. Even though I’d had a few drinks. I wasn’t weaving around or anything.”

He let go of the mug, made two fists and pushed them into his eyes. “It was a total accident. It was the girl’s fault.”

“Shit happens,” I said offhandedly.