“Little late for a social call,” Jason said evenly.

The old man chuckled. He stood in the middle of the lit hallway, outside of Ree’s room. He hadn’t been bluffing; the man had one gloved hand on Ree’s doorknob. In the other black-gloved hand, he held a gun.

“You’ve had a busy night,” Maxwell said, gun coming up, aiming somewhere around Jason’s left shoulder. “Shame you had to kill young Brewster like that. Then again, most people think death is too good for those perverts.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s not what the police are thinking. Bet they’re tossing his place right now. Finding some old love letters Sandy wrote years and years ago stuffed under his mattress. Then there’s the discarded glove here, broken branch there. I give them twenty, thirty minutes, and they’ll be here to arrest you. Means we’d better keep this quick.”

“Keep what quick?”

“Your suicide, boy. Christ almighty, you killed your wife, shot her lover. You’re wracked with guilt, consumed with remorse. No way a man like you can be a fitting father. So, of course, you came home and shot yourself. The fine detectives will find your body, read your note. They can dot the i’s and cross the t’s. Then I’ll take Ree away from all this sadness to a whole new life in Georgia. Don’t worry I’ll do right by her.”

Jason heard a sharp hiss of indrawn breath from the closet. He took a step closer to the doorway, trying to keep Max’s focus on him.

“I see. Well, it sounds like quite a plan, Max. But I see one flaw in it already.”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t shoot me from the hallway. Surely, you’ve learned from enough criminal cases by now. First thing that gives away a fake suicide is the lack of gunshot residue. No GSR on the contact wound means the gunshot was not self-inflicted. I’m afraid if you want this to be suicide, you’re gonna have to be up close and personal.”

Maxwell contemplated him from the hallway. “The thought had occurred to me,” the old man said. “All right, step into the light.”

“Or what, you’ll shoot me? I don’t think so.”

“No. I’ll shoot Ree.”

Jason shivered. But he forced himself to call the bluff. “No dice. According to you, this whole game is precisely so you can have Ree. Killing her would be like cutting off your nose to spite your face.”

“Then I’ll wake her up.”

“No you won’t. Come on, Maxwell. You want me. Well, here you go. I’m armed only with my wits and charming disposition. Come and get me.”