Skyler laughed. “You must be that Anderson guy the cops have been looking for. Robber and murderer downstate, and now you’re trying to sell me a Conti? Where’d you steal it from? Can’t be the Valeras; I picked that one up last fall.”

Mr. Valera’s sister had cried over that sculpture. And this guy was laughing about it? My hands curled into fists.

“There is no sculpture,” Ryan said. “The post was a fake. Made it up to get you out here.”

“What?” Skyler asked, his voice quiet and still. Deadly quiet.

Ryan smiled, and it wasn’t a nice smile at all. “I have a cell phone in my pocket. It’s been recording our entire conversation. Pretty sure I stand a good chance of clearing my name.”

“I didn’t admit to anything,” Skyler said.

Ryan shrugged. “Maybe not directly. But I bet it’s enough to get the cops looking at you. And we both know that’s not going to go well, don’t we?”

My mouth dropped open. What was he doing? Skyler was taller and bigger than Ryan; if he attacked it wouldn’t be anything close to a fair fight. I started looking around for a weapon. A stick. A rock. Anything.

“You’ll be better off if you turn yourself in, you know,” Ryan was saying. “Tell them it was an accident. If it’s a first offense, you probably won’t get much jail time.”

Skyler’s right hand started moving, behind his back, out of Ryan’s view, and mostly out of mine. “You think so?”

“And who knows? Maybe you can get reduced time because of mental issues. What is it they call this, diminished capacity? Because no offense, but killing someone over a sculpture is way out there.”

Skyler’s face twisted into a mask of rage. Or maybe it wasn’t a mask. Maybe this was his real face, the frightening one no one was ever allowed to see. “Conti sculptures,” he said, his voice rising, “are the only thing worth killing for!”

His hand went around his back and came out, pausing . . . And then I knew what he was doing, and knew I had to act.

“Ryan!” I yelled. “He has a gun! Safety is off!”

Quick as a snake, Skyler punched Ryan in the stomach with his left fist. He bent over, gasping. Skyler lashed out with his foot and kicked him forward to his hands and knees. He sank his fingers into Ryan’s hair, pulling his head back, and put the gun to the back of Ryan’s head.

“Whoever you are, come on out,” Skyler growled.

Though my body moved slowly, my mind was racing. Rafe knew we were here. Maybe the track meet had wrapped up early and he was on his way. Maybe he was driving down the park entrance right now.