I stood up on legs that didn’t feel fully solid, and moved toward the door of the interrogation room. MacLeish kept a sympathetic eye on me, then said, softly, “Come on, kid. Don’t make us book you.”

I shook my head over and over. There were too many things that didn’t fit. Too many pieces of a puzzle I’d gotten some glance at but couldn’t put together. But nothing made any sense; nothing led anywhere that would help me. I was out of time and out of clues.

To my horror, real tears came to my eyes, and I covered my face. MacLeish handed me a handkerchief, which I waved away. He kept it under my nose until I took it, dabbed at my face, and handed it back to him, stained with mascara. I sniffled and said, trying to get myself back together, “The bribe is for you? Not Lafferty?”

“It’s frowned on for police chiefs to take bribes,” MacLeish said. “That’s how people get fired. It’s how people lose stripes.”

“What?”

“Works out better this way for us both,” MacLeish said. “Even if I had to take a hit for it. Still a better paycheck. But I tell you what, it stings when you realize your old partner calls your shots.” MacLeish shook his head, his forehead creasing in anger. “That one takes some getting used to.”

My scalp tingled, some shadowy glimmer of an idea pressing at my brain, but I couldn’t think; I couldn’t touch it. I didn’t say anything but got up on rubbery legs and made for the door. MacLeish touched my arm as I passed. “The chief’s a reasonable man, I promise you that,” he said. “Find a way to give him what he wants, and I promise it’ll be okay. I only want to help you, kid. Give him the money and a name and then be a good friend to yourself and get out of this line of work.”

Instead of saying anything, I nodded in his general direction and stepped back out into the station. I could barely see a foot in front of my face, but I clocked Escobar watching me all the way out. I wondered if he’d be thrilled to see me in cuffs or disappointed that he hadn’t been the one to do it.

Lafferty was waiting for me by the door. He wasn’t done with me yet. As I passed by him, he called after me, “Any information you get—any way you get it—is appreciated. Remember that, Jo,” and that froze me in my tracks for a moment, trying to process the ramifications of it, but then I squared my shoulders. They were letting me leave. I had one more chance, and I had to use it.

I had to be Jo for a few hours longer.

Chapter 30