Hendricks handcuffed Billy to a toilet, arms wrapped around and behind the bowl like he was sweet on it. He warned him that if he made a sound, he’d jam Billy’s head into it.

“You’ll need a plumber to get it out.”

Otherwise, for the time being, Billy was unharmed. Gibson tried arguing that none of it was necessary, but Hendricks was in no mood for half measures.

“You’re about three good words from joining him.”

Gibson brought a pillow from the living room for Billy to lie against. Billy accepted it silently; he hadn’t spoken a word since Gibson had tackled him. He just stared pensively at the bathroom floor.

Gibson left Billy in the bathroom and joined his former colleagues in the kitchen. They sat around the table, staring at each other. It wasn’t the warmest of reunions. But neither was anyone pointing a gun at him, so Gibson called it a draw. Of the two, Jenn seemed the friendlier. Hendricks, on the other hand, was hard as dried cement.

“Why’d you come back?” she asked Gibson.

“Why’d you send me away?”

“Why?” she asked again, her voice sharpening.

“I had my doubts.”

“About?”

“You. And about Tate. It wasn’t him.”

“Yeah, well, it’s too late for that now.” Hendricks described how they’d returned from chasing down Gibson’s virus at the Musgrove house to find the storage unit. The blood. The body missing. Hendricks glanced down the hall toward Billy. Gibson caught his look. It was clear Hendricks was weighing Billy in his mind. Trying to decide if he was the one who had killed Tate.

“It wasn’t him,” Gibson said.

“No? Okay, well, that leaves you.”

“You think I killed Tate?”

“You gonna deny you were there?”

“No. Do you think I killed him?”

Hendricks stared at him long and hard.

“No. We don’t,” Jenn said. “But that doesn’t leave us with many viable suspects.”

“Other than our friend down the hall,” Hendricks said. “Who admitted luring us away with that virus stunt at the Musgrove house. And while we’re out chasing our tails at the Musgrove house, Kirby Tate gets dead. But you somehow don’t think he had anything to do with it.”

“It wasn’t him. I’d swear on it.” Gibson did his best to defend Billy and told them most of what he’d learned. How Billy had stuck his neck out to help and protect Suzanne ten years ago. They listened silently as he showed them the Hello Kitty backpack and laid out its contents on the kitchen table. Hendricks went over the baseball cap carefully. Gibson wasn’t quite ready to divulge his misgivings about it. He watched Jenn pick up the book and thumb through it.

“What are all these notes?”

Gibson shrugged. “Teenage girl stuff.”