My laugh burns my throat. “I should’ve guessed you’d know the laws and how to get around them.”

“Second of all,” he says, still infuriatingly calm, “you don’t really need to do this. Okay? We can work it out. No need to get the police involved.”

“I thought you didn’t care if I talked to the police. You have nothing to hide, right?”

He chuckles. Shrugs. Give me an “oh, garsh” look that used to charm the panties off me and still would, if I let it.

“I guess we all have something to hide, don’t we?” he says.

“Yeah. Like a body.”

“A body? How do you know she’s even missing? You two aren’t close.”

“Lisa told me she was calling Beth’s phone, and her husband answered. Said she’d been missing for a few days.”

Christian stares at me, first without saying a word. Then he laughs. Louder, louder, his guffaw becomes a whistling hiss. His face turns red. He has to wipe away tears. I stare, appalled.

“Her hus … he … her hus … sorry,” he gasps out. “Shit. Sorry. Hang on.”

He gets himself under control and gives me a sympathetic look. “Jewelann. If I killed Beth and rolled her up in a fucking carpet, how did her husband get her phone? Did I sneak into her house and leave it on his side of the bed?”

Had Beth been carrying her phone the night I saw her here? I wrack my brain but can’t remember for sure. But why wouldn’t she have? Like Lisa said, she wouldn’t go anywhere without her phone. I wilt.

“I told you, the last time I saw her, she was messed up but alive. If you want to go pointing a finger at anyone, it should be the husband. Don’t you know it’s always the husband? Or I guess, sometimes, it’s the wife.”

“You told me it was always the boyfriend.” I don’t return his grin.

He says with a hint of humor, “I’m not her boyfriend.”

“You are a vile, awful person, Christian.”

“What are you going to do? Turn me in? Will that really make you feel better?”

Everything is upside down. I don’t know where Beth is, and nobody will ever be sure about what happened with Jen. The only thing I know for certain is the same thing I have always known. I’m a terrible person, and I make terrible choices, but nothing matters more than protecting my son.

I shake my head. “No. I’m not turning you in. I’m not even going to kick you out. Live in this hovel, if that’s what you want. Take all the time in the world to remodel it into something livable. I don’t give a shit. And keep selling your pills, too. You’re going to need the money. Because you’re going to leave my son out of it, and start giving the money to me.”

His laugh, at first, is bemused. It fades at the look on my face. His eyebrows raise.