“Oh, fuck. Give me a sec.” He reached to the side, and Rivers had his own hand on his service weapon, but Bruce was only grabbing his jacket. He slid it on, stepped into a pair of nearby slippers, then pulled the door shut behind him. Huddled under the porch lamp, they stood on the front porch on a street where a few houses were decorated, blow-up Santas and snowmen swaying in the breeze that rattled down the street lined with parked cars, trucks, and SUVs. “Look, I don’t have much time. Andie’s in the shower. We’re goin’ to her folks for dinner in an hour. And anyway, I don’t know much, just that Gus was in some trouble, and he stuck his hand in that tile saw to hide some kind of evidence—a wound, I think.”

“A wound from what?” Mendoza asked.

“A fight, I guess. I dunno. I asked him about it, and all he said was that it was ‘big trouble.’ Well, really he said ‘big effin’ trouble,’ but he used the ‘f’ word, y’know.” He seemed a little embarrassed and looked down a lot, the bill of his cap shading his eyes. “I don’t want no trouble, like I said. I’ve got a good thing goin’ here with Andie, and we’ve got a kid comin’, and I don’t want to blow it. This—whatever Gus is involved in—has nothin’ to do with me.”

“Was he out of town?” Rivers asked and gave him the date of Charity Spritz’s murder.

“I don’t know.” He looked to the side, rubbed a hand around the back of his neck, obviously weighing his options. “Oh, Christ . . . maybe so,” he finally admitted. “Gus had me pick him up at a motel by the airport in Spokane and told me not to say anything to anybody, and so I didn’t.”

“Do you know if he has fake ID? A passport in another name?”

“No . . .” But as he thought about it, he paled. “Oh, shit, I don’t know nothin’ about that.” Rivers could see the wheels turning in his head. “I thought—I mean he said he’d gone to Las Vegas and didn’t want anyone to know cuz he’s got this gambling habit. You think . . . oh, shit!” He let out his breath and adjusted his hat. “You think he killed that reporter woman?” Porter turned in a small, tight circle under the light fixture. “I can’t believe it. I mean . . . holy shit!” And then the true seriousness of the situation hit. “Look, I swear I knew nothin’ about any of that, I just gave the guy a ride, okay?” He looked over his shoulder. “Jesus, I just heard the water go off. She’s gettin’ out of the shower. She can’t know nothin’ about this . . . she’d be so pissed!”