“Not through with me. Stuck with me. We’re stuck with each other.”

“Only as long as Kris Ann wants.”

I paused. “No, Roland. Only as long as you live.”

There was a long silence. Almost whispering, he said, “By the time I die, Adam, you’ll be past fifty and your balls the size of raisins. I promise you that.”

I lit another cigarette. “You called. There must be a reason.”

“All right. I want it clear that you’re no longer on the Cantwell case. Your sole job is to protect Kris Ann.”

“I mean to. And Henry. I assume he’s talked to you.”

“That changes nothing. I won’t be undercut by a junior partner, particularly you. If Henry doesn’t wish my advice the firm will drop him as a client.”

“But he’s your oldest and dearest friend, remember? Besides, the partners won’t let even you do that. The Cantwells pay those whopping fees that line our various pockets. The trips to Europe, the beachhouses, the new Mercedes—”

“Don’t talk to me of greed.” He bit off the words. “Not you. Not ever.”

There was a click, like someone hanging up. Cade said, “I’m coming over.” His phone slammed down.

I went to the stairs. Kris Ann stood above me on the landing, face streaked with tears.

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

She didn’t answer. I stood looking up. It seemed a long way. “He’s coming,” I said finally. “At least there’ll be someone here. I have to go.”

“Where?” She said it absently, indifferently.

I shook my head. “He’ll ask you, sure. Better to keep out of it.”

“You’re so selfless.” Her voice was drained of feeling. “From moving here, to this—all for me. I never have to ask.”

I climbed the stairs to grasp her shoulders. “What he said, Krissy—that’s not right. You know it isn’t.”

She turned her face, squirmed free, and ran to the bedroom. I started after her, then stopped myself. There was no way to reach her, now. I had to finish it. I went slowly to the kitchen and stood over the phone, thinking. Then I dialed.

A singsong voice answered, “Maddox Coal and Steel.”

“Mr. Mooring, please.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Mooring is on another call now. Can you hold?”

I was already heading out the alley for Mooring’s place when Cade’s dark-blue Audi turned in from the street. His mouth opened to shout. I passed him without stopping.

Twenty

TWENTY

It was only nine-fifteen when I got there. But when Joanne Mooring answered the door I knew it didn’t matter.

Leaning on the doorframe, she was half-drunk already. For a moment we shared a kind of recognition. Perhaps I looked as bad as she did. “Yes?” she said thickly.

“I’m Adam Shaw. Remember me?”