“Ray!” I shout, trying to hold his attention. “If you shoot him, you’ll spend every hour you have left behind bars.”

Presley laughs. “If I stick around to get arrested. Which I ain’t. Tomorrow night I’ll be in Mexico, and nobody in this world can stop me getting there. I know ways in and out that the wets ain’t even thought of.”

“I can see why you’d want to shoot him,” I go on. “I’d like to shoot him myself. But the way I figure it, you two are already square.”

He gives me an uncertain look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I just found out what you did to him in seventy-eight.”

“What you talking about?”

I nod at Livy. “Well, to her, I mean. That’s the same as to him, isn’t it? It damn sure gives him the right to shoot you, if anything gives a man that right.”

“Shut up,” Livy hisses.

Presley starts to turn the gun on me, but he steadies himself and holds it on Marston.

“What’s that, Cage?” Leo asks. “What are you talking about?”

“Tell him, Ray.” Keep tapping on the pressure point.

Presley takes a step closer to Marston, but he doesn’t fire. I think he wants Marston to know the truth before he dies.

“Do you know a girl named Jenny Doe?” I ask Leo.

“Please,” Livy begs.

“I’ve met her,” Leo says.

“Do you know who her father is?”

His eyes flash with anger. “You are, you pissant.”

“Sorry, Judge. I never knew that girl existed, and I am most definitely not her father.”

“Then who is?”

“The man holding the gun on you.”

Leo blinks three times quickly. Livy has gone white. But Presley’s face is a strange mix of wonder and defiance. He obviously knew nothing about Jenny Doe until this moment.

“You and me got a kid?” he says, his eyes on Livy.

“Olivia?” Leo says quietly.

“Tell him, Livy,” I urge her.

“He raped me,” she says simply. “When I was eighteen, Ray raped me three times one night and got me pregnant.”

“That’s a goddamn lie!” Presley bellows. “She give it to me, Judge. Teasing me with it all the time, prissing around like a bitch in heat, grabbing my privates. She told me she wanted it that night.”

“Livy?” Leo says again.

The mere fact that he’s asking tells me Leo believes Presley’s story could be true. Livy knows this too. Her lips are pressed tightly together, her nostrils flared. She stares into the middle distance for a few moments, alone with her demons. Then she looks at her father with absolute sincerity.

“He raped me, Daddy. I should have told you when it happened, but I was too afraid. He told me he would kill Mother if I did. All these years I let you think Penn was the father. He wasn’t. It was him.”