McGrath straightened up, throwing down the stone he’d just selected. “What the fuck is it with you? That your go-to? Your standard little bleat?” He put on a whiney voice. “‘Oh, my name’s Spencer and all I can do is sell cars. Don’t give me any other shit to do or I’ll just run the fuck away.’”

Spencer said nothing.

“Why didn’t you just trust that I had your best interests at heart? I see potential in people. Potential. I put hard bank into this, into you. You knew that. You could have done this.”

Spencer was trying to work out the likelihood of all three of them being killed on the lakeshore. There were no witnesses. Still, there was nothing to be gained from lying as to why he’d run. He’d made his play. And they’d found him. Furthermore, it was thanks to McGrath that he’d figured out something that had long eluded him.

“I did everything you asked of me, Dom. Stuff I haven’t ever done. I saw stuff I haven’t seen and quite frankly wish I’d never seen. Why did I turn down your offer?” He pointed at Abby. “Because of her? Yeah, partly. CPS is looking to take her off me. You knew that. Why? Because of the choices I’ve been making. But she isn’t the only reason. Fact is I don’t have the balls, Dom. I don’t have the cojones, the backbone, however you want to label it in the world you live in, the places you been, whatever. But I don’t have it. That’s why I gave up racing. Not because of Marielle’s job, I just grabbed that as an excuse. If you really knew people, you’d know that self-belief is where it’s at. Why couldn’t you just let Eddie drive? He wants to do it. He believes he can do it.”

McGrath gave a derisive snort. “There’s self-belief and there’s delusion.”

He saw a flat piece of shale by the water’s edge and went to pick it up. Before throwing it, he looked back over his shoulder.

“You guys need to pack.” He threw the shale hard. It slid, rather than bounced, over the water’s surface and didn’t stop until it smashed into a rock on the far side, sending splinters showering into the undergrowth. McGrath walked past Spencer, back toward the path.

“Johnny Boy, show Spencer what’s been happening back home while he’s been away, just so he’s up to speed.”

Out came Johnny Boy’s phone. He worked the screen and went to pass it to Spencer but suddenly brought it back and turned the phone on its side.

“There, that’s going to be easier for you,” he said considerately.

Spencer started reading a Detroit Free Press article from a few days before.