She slapped the aluminum frame of the lawn chair, and the fox terrier yelped and bolted. ‘So what if he did? Rufus helps me out sometimes when he can. I got nothing!’

‘So what will I find if I go inside? A new flat-screen? An Xbox?’

Gladiola said nothing, but he knew he was right.

‘I like that brand new airboat your uncle had, too,’ Cab went on. ‘Did Rufus think I wouldn’t notice that?’

He stood up and smoothed his tie and slipped sunglasses over his face again, although it was nearly dark. ‘I really don’t like people playing games with me, Gladiola. Rufus sent you after me like a drone strike. He and his friends are out to embarrass Diane Fairmont. Tell him I won’t do his dirty work for him.’

He headed for his Corvette across the mostly dead lawn.

‘I wasn’t lying!’ Gladiola shouted after him, her voice a loud screech. ‘It happened just like I said.’

He didn’t look back. He jangled his keys on his finger.

‘Ain’t no game either,’ she went on, even louder. ‘You watch yourself, huh? That first boy, they killed him.’

Cab stopped in his tracks. He pulled off his sunglasses. He slid his keys in his pocket, spun on his heels, and marched back up to Gladiola. She was small but defiant, staring up at him from the lawn chair.

‘What did you say?’ he asked.

‘You heard me.’

‘Did you tell your story to someone else?’

‘Sure did. ’Bout a month ago. Boy was asking questions about Mr Fairmont and that last summer, just like you. I told him ’bout that weekend and what happened. He was real excited, he was. Said it could be something important. Now he’s dead.’ She put a finger to her head and pulled the trigger.

‘Who was he? What was his name?’

Gladiola folded her arms across her chest, and her jaw jutted out insolently on her face. ‘Twenty bucks. ’Cause you thought I was lying.’

Cab took his wallet and retrieved a fifty-dollar bill. He opened her hand, put it inside, and closed her warm fingers over it. He didn’t say a word, but his eyebrows arched in anticipation.

Gladiola smirked, looking pleased with herself.

‘Weird-looking boy,’ she said. ‘Funny little round hat and one of those curly mustaches. Said his name was Justin.’

22

Peach waited with Annalie while she recovered from the assault by Frank Macy. The fear eased, and so did the nausea. Annalie disinfected the cut on her forehead. She was still in pain – her muscles ached, and her head throbbed – but now that she was safe, she wanted to be alone. Annalie, who’d come back after spotting a man in a red Cutlass staking out the parking lot, offered to stay with her. It took Peach until it was almost dark to convince her that she was fine.