inside and see a man facing toward them with a gun in his hand. There was another man in the room too. Something about what they saw caused them to react. A gun was drawn, a shot fired, and within seconds, Don Vargas was dead from a clean shot through the chest.
Jendrek and I had always agreed between ourselves that nothing was ever too stupid to say, as long as it was just us. It was a rule he laid down when I started working for him. As I ran through it, I said, “I wonder what order they were walking in.”
Jendrek gave me a curious look.
“The cops, I mean. I wonder if the shooter was in the front or the back.” Jendrek still looked confused. I went on, “Because if the shooter was in the front, then it just doesn’t make any sense at all. But if the shooter was the one in back, then it’s almost like he was waiting for the perfect spot. You know, stopping where he had perfect aim, waiting for his partner to get out of the way. Almost like he meant to kill him.”
A cold expression came over Jendrek. Like the possibility wasn’t something he even wanted to think about. I walked back down toward the front of the house, then turned and started walking back.
“Look,” I said. “They’re coming along here. It’s dark. There’s a bright light spilling out of the window. You don’t think they look inside the second they come to it? Of course they do, it’s the only thing there is to look at, it’s nighttime, it’s pitch black out here. They look inside. They see Vargas and this Pete guy. But they get all the way to here,” I took five long steps and stopped where we figured the shooter had been, “before they shoot? Why? What happens in the two seconds it takes to cover this space that causes the cop to shoot? What happens inside the room to go from a situation that doesn’t require shooting to one that does?”
I could see Jendrek running it through in his head, tracing my story along the path with his eyes.
“At least one explanation,” I went on, “is that nothing changed at all. Vargas and Pete were standing there when the cops first saw them and they were still standing there a couple seconds later. Same positions, Vargas holding the gun the whole time, nothing’s changed except the angle from which to shoot. One explanation is that the cop took his time, lining up his shot, like he knew he was going to shoot the whole time.”
Jendrek cracked a wide smile and said, “I think you’ve snapped, Ollie. Unless you can prove Vargas welched on a huge debt to this cop, I don’t think that theory is going to fly. Isn’t it much more likely that the cop’s just an idiot?”
I said, “Probably.”
Ed Vargas appeared on the path at the foot of the stairs leading down from the deck. “Mr. Jendrek,” he called out, waving something in his hand.
Jendrek turned and walked back toward him. “Please, call me Mark,” he said as he reached Vargas. I followed behind. We went back up the stairs and I noticed the girl in the T-shirt sitting in a lounge chair on the far end of the deck. She turned to watch us as we walked into the house through the French doors.
Vargas handed Jendrek an envelope and collapsed into a chair near a bar at the back of the room, away from the windows and the pool table. It was the second bar I’d seen on the main floor. It was as though the house was used for parties and little else.
Vargas rubbed his temples and leaned back in his chair, almost crowding himself into the furthest corner of the house. He looked tormented, like a man who wasn’t sure about anything anymore and was just looking to sit still in a quiet, dim place until the world returned to normal.
“That’s a retainer,” he said, pointing to the envelope. “Should be enough to get things started.”
Jendrek didn’t look inside, he merely tucked it in the pocket of his tweed sport coat. Given the size and location of the house, I doubted money was anything we’d have to worry about. Putting together a winnable case, well, that was something different.
Jendrek cleared his throat. “I know this is a stressful time,” he began. “But we’re going to need to talk to people at the