Billy sat on a wood pylon at the end of the dock. Gibson sat opposite him. Twice, Billy seemed to get a handle on himself, but then his mind would overturn some long-repressed memory and the tears would come again.

“I’m not actually a crier,” Billy said, half laughing, half crying. He rubbed his hands over his face. “Impressive, huh?”

“It’s not easy saying some things the first time.”

Billy looked up at him gratefully and nodded.

“Who is Mr. Musgrove?”

“Aw, man, he was the nicest guy. You would have liked him. Talked to everyone like an equal, even kids. We used to talk about video-game design, computer science. Stuff like that. But like a grown-up, you know? He just knew a little bit about everything. Everything interested him. We were a couple of doors down from them. My parents were good friends with them. My mom jogged with Mrs. Musgrove a couple times a week. Ginny and my sister were like this.” Billy crossed two fingers tightly. “I mean, before the accident.”

Billy pointed out to the lake and told Gibson about how a boat had hit Ginny Musgrove, and how her mom had drowned trying to save her. How it had wrecked Terrance Musgrove—the drinking and anger that followed. A family destroyed in a matter of minutes.

“He only ever came out here one time afterward. Right after it happened, with the police. After that it was like the place didn’t exist.”

“Why didn’t he sell it?”

“Dunno. Probably just easier to keep paying the mortgage than actually deal with it, I guess. He was such a mess afterward. But he shut it down. Cut off the phone, electricity. Everything but gas and water.”

“And he hired you to take care of it for him?”

“Yeah, he had a guy at first, but it didn’t work out. Threw a party down here or some shit—Mr. Musgrove fired him. So after I got my driver’s license, Mr. Musgrove hired me. I wasn’t really the party-throwing type, you know? He paid me to drive out once a month and make sure everything was good. Said he just couldn’t do it. That’s why I figured it was a good place for Suzanne to hole up. No one ever came out here but me.”

“And you’re still the caretaker?”

“Yeah, after he died, it was just easier for his sister to keep me on.”

“How did he die?”

“Committed suicide. Like your dad.”

The mention of his father stung. Billy had brought it up so naturally, so unexpectedly. The way only an old friend would. It reinforced his sense that Billy Casper believed they were connected in all this through Suzanne.

“I don’t want to talk about my father.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. But if Mr. Musgrove committed suicide, why do you say you got him killed?”

“’Cause I don’t think he did.”