You kept an explosive secret all that time. Now you feel it’s on the verge of coming out. That kind of stress kills people. It can also make them do self-destructive things. Stay in control, Jet. Stay ahead of Max. Know what you’re going to do, whatever move he makes. You’re twice as smart as he is.”
She’s nodding, trying to get her composure back. “As soon as I got home tonight, I showered and changed clothes. I thought about destroying the ones I was wearing on the hill, but in the end I just washed them.”
“That might not get the blood off, if you had any splatter on you.”
“Okay. I’ll burn them. I also destroyed Max’s cell phone. I couldn’t hack his password, and I didn’t want to risk being caught with it.”
“Good. I still have some hope the video was on that phone.”
“Me, too. Oh, when I was in the ER, I looked through his personal effects for his second phone and didn’t find it. Turns out a nurse had already given it to Paul.”
“Was it a Samsung, too?”
“I haven’t seen it yet. I’m afraid to ask. But if I can somehow get hold of it tonight, I will.” She reaches up to her neck, takes hold of a slim chain, and lifts Sally’s sapphire pendant from beneath her top.
“You’re wearing a fifty-thousand-dollar necklace around town?”
“This is our good-luck charm. Sally left these passwords for me. When I find whatever they open, we’ll be able to save ourselves. I’m betting it’s Max’s other phone.”
“Two passwords for a phone?”
“The second could be for a program on the phone.”
“Jet, those passwords could be years old.”
“No,” she says, unshakable faith in her eyes. “The sticker is new, clean and white.” She flips the sapphire so that I can see the bright paper, then tucks the pendant back beneath her blouse.
“Don’t take stupid risks to get that phone. Let’s see how Max plays this—if he lives.”
We stand in the sodium-yellow glow like refugees, a desperate couple with nowhere to run. “I’m so sorry you had to find out about Max,” she says. “This isn’t what you signed up for.”
“I signed up for you. Okay? Remember that, no matter what happens tonight. I wish I could hug you.”
She looks afraid to believe me.
“Oh, I forgot,” she says. “A bunch of calls came in on Max’s phone before I destroyed it. Three from Beau Holland, two from Arthur Pine, one from Wyatt Cash, and one from Claude Buckman.”
“All tonight? What does that suggest to you?”
“Trouble inside the Poker Club. Think about it. Who leaked you that picture of Beau Holland and Dave Cowart with Buck? A lot of people hate Beau, even in the club. Maybe he’s scared the club will throw him to the wolves.”
Something makes me turn and scan the parking lot. A presentiment of danger? I’m suddenly aware of the hard bulge of my pistol in the small of my back.
“What is it?” Jet asks.
“Nothing. I just felt funny for a second. Like we’re being watched.”
She looks over her shoulder. “I’d better get back inside. Kevin’s probably wondering about this, and the helicopter will get here any minute.”
“Will you go to Jackson with them?”
“Probably. To look after Kevin.”
As I fight the urge to take her hand, a black city police cruiser wheels into the entry circle and parks thirty feet from us. Two cops get out: one in his twenties, the other in his forties.
“Oh, God,” Jet murmurs, losing color fast. “I told you. He did it. Max told them it was me.”
The cops are talking to each other across the roof of the cruiser. The older one’s holding a cell phone to his ear. “No way,” I say. “Take it easy. They’re probably just visiting somebody in the hospital.”
“You’re wrong, Marshall. Max must be awake.”
“If he accuses you, then you know what to do. Go nuclear. Incinerate that son of a bitch. Tell Paul everything. I’ll support you in the paper, and I’ll be waiting for you when the ashes clear.”
Now the cops are walking our way. Even so, I feel confident. There’s no way Max invited police into the middle of his family soap opera. After trying to rape the mother of his “grandchild”? Jet’s back is to the cruiser, and she’s standing as stiffly as someone awaiting a bullet from a firing squad.
“Are you Marshall McEwan?” asks the older cop.
“That’s right.”
As he comes closer, into our pool of light, I see that his name tag reads farner. The look