“Billy was dead! I just picked up the shovel and looked at it. Which I shouldn’t have. But I did. That’s all that happened. I knew Mary Beth was in danger so I took her away to be safe.” He said this to Sachs, gazing at her with imploring eyes.

“Let’s get back to her,” Bell said. “Why was she in danger?”

“Because she was in Blackwater Landing.” He snapped his nails again…. Different from my habit, Sachs reflected. I dig into my flesh, he clicks nail against nail. Which is worse? she wondered. Mine, she decided; it’s more destructive.

He turned his damp, ruddy eyes back to Sachs.

Stop it! I can’t take that look! she thought, glancing away.

“And Todd Wilkes? The boy who hung himself? Did you threaten him?”

“No!”

“His brother saw you shouting at him last week.”

“He was dropping lit matches on anthills. That’s shitty and mean and I told him to stop it.”

“What about Lydia?” Bell said. “Why’d you kidnap her?”

“I was worried about her too.”

“Because she was in Blackwater Landing?”

“Right.”

“You were going to rape her, weren’t you?”

“No!” Garrett started to cry. “I wasn’t going to hurt her. Or anybody! And I didn’t kill Billy! Everybody’s trying to get me to say I did something that I didn’t!”

Bell dug up a Kleenex and handed it to the boy.

The door swung open fast and Mason Germain walked in. He’d probably been the one watching through the one-way mirror and from the look on his face it was clear he’d lost patience. Sachs smelled his raw cologne; she’d come to detest the cloying scent.

“Mason—” Bell began.

“Listen to me, boy, you tell us where that girl is and you tell us now! ’Cause if you don’t you’re going to Lancaster and you’re going to stay there till they put your ass on trial…. You heard about Lancaster, haven’t you? Case you haven’t, let me tell—”

“All right, that’s enough,” a high-pitched voice commanded.

A bantam strode into the room—a man even shorter than Mason, with razor-trimmed hair perfectly sprayed into place. A gray suit, all buttons snug, a baby blue shirt and striped tie. He wore shoes with three-inch heels.

“Don’t say another word,” he said to Garrett.

“Hello, Cal,” Bell said, not pleased the visitor was here. The sheriff introduced Sachs to Calvin Fredericks, Garrett’s lawyer.

“What the hell’re you doing interrogating my client without me being here?” He nodded at Mason. “And what the hell was that Lancaster stuff about? I should have you put away for talking to him like that.”

“He knows where the girl is, Cal,” Mason muttered. “He’s not telling us. He had his rights read to him. He—”