Johnston’s eyes jerk in their sockets. “Who told you that?” He looks at his attorney. “They’re lying.”

It doesn’t elude me that he doesn’t deny it. “It’s an ongoing investigation,” I tell him. “I can’t get into details, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it, and your cooperation will go a long way toward keeping you safe from harm.”

Johnston gets to his feet. His face is red, his teeth clenched. I scoot my chair back, keeping a safe distance between us in case he decides to come over the table and take all that rage out on me.

“You got your information wrong,” he snarls. “I was not there that night. And I am not going to take a fall because of something someone else did.”

“Norm, take it down a notch, buddy,” Thornsberry says.

I ignore him, my attention riveted to Johnston. “If you were involved in any way, you know I’ll find out sooner or later.”

“Don’t say anything incriminating,” Thornsberry adds quickly.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Johnston doesn’t take his eyes off me. A drop of sweat rolls down his temple. His nostrils flaring with every breath. “For God’s sake, do you think I’d have brought those notes to you if I had?”

I don’t answer. “Listen to me, Norm. Three people are dead. You’ve been receiving notes. You’re a target. Please help me keep you safe.”

He lowers his head and pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “For God’s sake.”

“Norm, if you cooperate—if you tell me what you know—I’ll do my best to help you.” My words aren’t quite true. If he incriminates himself, I’ll nail him to the wall. It isn’t the first time a cop has lied to a suspect to get the truth. That’s how the game is played.

“Be quiet, Norm.” Thornsberry places his hand on Norm’s arm. “My client and I need a quick conference to discuss this.”

Johnston shakes him off. He shifts his gaze from me to Thornsberry and then back to me. “I’m not admitting to doing anything illegal. I did nothing wrong. But before we go any farther, I want immunity from prosecution. And I want protection.”

I hold his gaze. “You know I’ll do whatever I can.” The lie flies off my tongue with the fervor of truth. I owe this man nothing. Not the truth. Lease of all immunity from prosecution.

“We’re going to want that in writing,” Thornsberry says.

“I’ll have your statement typed up so you can sign it. I’ll need to get the county attorney involved.” I look at Johnston. “Tell me what you know.”

“It’s about the Hochstetler … thing. I heard some.… rumors about what went down that night.”

I give him a reassuring look. “What happened?”