“He screwed me over. The cops were supposed to find this Jane Doe who OD’d—I knew where her body was. My guy would wait six months and then swap her photos with mine and have someone ID me as the dead woman.”

“That is the stupidest scheme I’ve ever heard,” I said. “One, someone could have ID’d the real body, which would have ruined everything. Two, six months isn’t enough time for those who actually worked on the dead woman’s case to forget what she looked like.”

“Do you really think anyone gives a shit about some addict who offs herself in an empty building? She was a white chick with dark hair and blue eyes. Close enough. The problem was that, six months later, I was long gone, so this sergeant decided he could swap the photos and leave it at that. Skip the positive ID. I spent years—years—on the run because the asshole who put out the bounty on me figured I bolted. All because that bastard cop couldn’t hold up his end of the deal.”

“And Gabriel?”

Her face screwed up. “What?”

“His mother left him. At fifteen. She walked away without a word. Without leaving him one penny.”

A dismissive eye roll. “Gabriel could look after himself. He’d already been doing it for years. Not that he ever contributed anything. Just made enough for himself.”

“He was a child,” I snarled. “He shouldn’t have had to take care of anyone.”

“Why not? Everyone does, eventually. Better to learn that lesson early. And look where it got him.” She waved around the office. “A big-shot lawyer. Drives a fancy car. Lives in a fancy apartment. He wouldn’t have all this if I’d coddled him.”

“Get out.”

“Oh, so now you want me to leave? Make up your mind, girl.”

I pulled out the gun and pointed it at her head. “Get out now.”

She started to make some sarcastic comment. Then she met my gaze, shut her mouth, and limped out the door.

—

When Lydia returned, I was in the bathroom, plucking hairs from Gabriel’s brush and putting them into a plastic bag. I emerged, and her gaze traveled from the bag in my hand to the bag on her desk, containing the bloodied tissues.

“You really think it could be her?” she said.

“I think I need that answer as fast as I can get it,” I said. “I’ll pay whatever it takes.”

CHAPTER THREE

Cook County Jail was about a mile from the office. My car was at home in Cainsville, so I walked to the prison, after texting Gabriel to say I was coming. He usually left his cell in the car, and I was almost there before he replied.