Carmichael and Moraes, Wahredua’s other pair of detectives, were standing on the porch. They were both clearly still on duty. And Carmichael had her hand under her jacket.

Gun, Hazard’s brain said. And then all the strange things Somers had mentioned fell into place.

He backpedaled as quietly as he could to the kitchen, took the phone from Somers, and disconnected the call. In a whisper, he said, “Grab your shoes and run.”

“What?”

Hazard slid the phone into his pocket, grabbed his wallet, and pressed all his cash into Somers’s hand. “Shoes. Run. I don’t know why, but Carmichael and Moraes are here to arrest you.”

Somers shoved his feet into his shoes and fumbled with the laces, no questions, and even through the fear and confusion, Hazard had never loved him more. Another knock came at the door, harder. Hazard grabbed the jacket, shoved tie and socks into one pocket, and threw it at Somers. The blond man caught it and sprinted to the back door.

“John, if I’m wrong, I’ll take Evie to the park tomorrow after daycare. The one with the cement vulvas. You can just walk up to us, and this will never have happened. If I’m right, we won’t be there.”

Somers nodded and ran.

At the front of the house, knocking rattled the door in its frame. Hazard made sure Somers’s phone was turned off, and then he shucked the case and disconnected the battery. After throwing the whole thing into the drawer of the entertainment stand, he made his way to the front door. When he opened it, Carmichael still had her hand under her jacket.

Moraes, young and black and handsome, who was easy going and always had a smile, wasn’t smiling now. “Emery, where’s John-Henry?”

“He’s not home.”

“Bullshit,” Carmichael said. “That’s his car in the garage, Hazard. What the fuck took you so long answering the door?”

“I was upstairs, with Evie. I didn’t hear you until you two jackasses just about beat the thing down.”

“Where’s John-Henry?” Moraes said.

“Not home. You’re too young for a hearing aid, Moraes.”

“We already looked in the garage,” Carmichael said, shifting her weight back and forth, hand still hidden under her jacket. “We saw his car. Both cars. They’re both in there. So where is he?”

“What the hell is going on? You come here, talk to me like I’m some deadbeat and you’re about to drag my ass into the station. No, Moraes, don’t look away. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Another cruiser pulled up to the curb. And then another. Hazard recognized Norman and Gross in one of the vehicles; Norman met Hazard’s gaze and dropped his head, shrinking into the seat.

“We’ve got an arrest warrant for John-Henry,” Moraes said. “If you don’t help us, Emery, you’re an accessory. We’ve also got a search warrant for the house.”

“He went for a run,” Hazard said. “That’s all I know.”

“Call him.”

“He doesn’t take his phone on runs. Why is he under arrest? What are the charges?”