“That’s optimistic given where he’s sitting.” Haggerty flags down a waitress and orders an unsweetened iced tea. She turns to me. “More coffee, hon?”

“I’m just leaving, thanks.” I dig out a few dollar bills, which Haggerty plucks from my hand.

“She’ll have another iced coffee. And a slice of apple pie with whipped cream, please.”

“I don’t eat pie, Detective. You’re, like, the shittiest cop ever.”

“The pie is for me, Ms. Quinn.” Stumped for a comeback, I say, “Oh. Duh.” We both crack a smile. But once the waitress leaves, I cut to the chase. “What do you want?”

“We’re looking at other issues related to the Lawrence Quinns.” He sits back. “Tell me about Lawrence’s business—where the money came from, how it flowed, et cetera.”

“I told you everything. I have no other details; rather, nothing of significance to you.”

“You’d be surprised, Ms. Quinn, by what I consider significant. Which is why I repeat my questions. The story you’ve been telling me is very different from the story I’m hearing.”

“Are you saying I’ve been lying to you?”

“Sure. Maybe not lying, but distorting, omitting, overplaying. Not that it matters—to me or to your brother’s case. Billy is guilty. We have eyewitness statements, CCTV tapes, and physical evidence. Facts are facts, Ms. Quinn. They’re not transmutable. My focus is interpretation. The lies you tell because you’re not conscious they’re lies. Or, you do know they’re lies, but you don’t, or can’t, admit that they’re crimes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Detective.”

“You know exactly, Ms. Quinn.” Haggerty sits back.

The waitress returns. “One apple pie with whipped cream.” She sets down the plate. “Iced tea and more coffee.”

Haggerty thanks her, far too effusively for a piece of pie.

“You can’t be serious,” I say. “What was that about?”

“I’m an appreciative customer. You’ll find that I’m always serious, Ms. Quinn. And I think you are too. I think you’ve been wanting to talk for years.”

“You sound more like a shrink than a cop.” I keep my voice steady, my hands still. My jaw is clenched so tightly I’m grinding my teeth into dust.

“I grew up in Massachusetts. Poor family, big brains.” He pauses, as if this should mean something to me. “Scholarship kid.”

“And?”

“I went to Brown, did a BA in psych, had my heart set on med school. But other subjects caught my interest.”

“What kind of subjects?”

“Sex crimes, for one.” Haggerty sticks a fork into his pie. Whipped cream oozes through the tines. He takes a bite, chews, and swallows. “So, tell me about the business.”

“I already told you.”

“Humor me.”

“Lawrence used to advise political candidates on media strategies. Now he’s creating a charitable nonprofit to reduce poverty and hunger in the United States.”