“What do you want?” I said through the door.
“Need to talk to you,” Rule’s voice said.
“Not in the mood right now.”
“Open the damned door, Street,” Kingman said.
“Do you have a warrant?” I said.
“There was a bloodbath in Charleston, West Virginia, this morning. Thought you might like to hear about it.”
“Don’t know anybody in Charleston,” I said.
“You know Michael Donovan,” she said. “We think he’s responsible.”
I opened the door but didn’t invite them in. “As you can see, I’m right here, so I couldn’t have had anything to do with anything that happened in Charleston, West Virginia,” I said. “And by the way, how in the hell did you find me?”
“We’ve been keeping an eye on you,” Rule said. “We tend to do that with people who are suspected of committing multiple murders.”
I’d been careful. There was no way they’d been following me. I supposed they could have triangulated my cell phone signal, but that would have required them to get a subpoena from the phone company, and that would have required approval from a judge. I didn’t believe they had enough evidence against me to go to a judge.
“You’re lying,” I said. “I’ll get to the bottom of how you found me eventually, and I’ll sue your asses.”
“Mind if we come in and take a look around?” Kingman said.
“There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell you’re coming in this room without a warrant,” I said.
“Your buddy Big Pappy Donovan killed three people in Charleston a few hours ago,” Rule said.
“First of all, he isn’t my buddy. He was the shot caller on my yard in prison and I helped him with his appeal. Haven’t seen or heard from him since I got out. Secondly, if he killed anybody, I don’t know a thing about it.”
“Heard the name Rex Fairchild?” Rule said.
“I don’t even know why I’m talking to you. Why don’t you guys just get the hell out of here and leave me alone?”
“Fairchild is dead, along with his girlfriend. Donovan killed them at Fairchild’s house. Shot Fairchild’s dog, too, but the dog lived through it. The dog bit him, though, and Donovan’s blood is in the house. Donovan didn’t know Fairchild’s girlfriend had a teenage daughter. She was in the laundry room during the shooting, but she came out when Donovan went out the front door, and she saw him walk across the porch, down the steps, and get into his car. She identified him from photos the Charleston police showed her. They’ll match his DNA up soon, and he’ll be toast. Fairchild’s girlfriend got a shot off from a shotgun. We don’t know if she hit him, but he might be wounded. Oh, and just for good measure, Donovan also killed Fairchild’s brother-in-law, who just happened to be filling in for Fairchild at his car lot in Charleston. Shot them all with a nine-millimeter, same caliber gun that was used on Tommy Frazier and Tommy Beane in Cowen a while back.”
“Why are you telling me this? Since you’re standing here looking at me, it’s obvious I didn’t have a thing to do with it.”
“Because this could be a chance for you to help yourself out. Help us find Donovan, and maybe we help the West Virginia State Police pin the killings in Cowen on him, too. Maybe we forget what you did up there and what you did to Ben Clancy. I mean, we could certainly understand why you’d want to kill the men who bombed your mother’s house and why you’d want to get even with a prosecutor who framed you for murder.”
I was half-drunk, which was why I’d opened the door in the first place, but I wasn’t so drunk that I’d become stupid. This was a classic cop trick. A lie to try to get me to make admissions they would later use against me.
“I haven’t done anything to anybody,” I said. “I’ve told you that before, and I’ll tell you again and again. All you’re ever going to hear from me is that I didn’t have anything to do with any of the things you’re talking about. And just out of curiosity, what is your theory of the motive Pappy Donovan would have to kill Donnie Frazier and Tommy Beane?”
“Loyalty to the man who got him out of prison,” Kingman said. “They killed your mother; he did you a favor and got some revenge for you.”
“You have absolutely no proof of any of this, of course,” I said.
“We will if you tell us he did it.”
“Not gonna happen,” I said. “Not now, not ever.”
“Where is he?” Kingman said. “You stay in touch with him, don’t you?”
I slammed the door in their faces, turned around, and walked over and sat on the bed. They pounded on the door and yelled for a little while longer, but eventually, they went away.
Once they were gone, I picked up one of my burner phones and dialed Pappy’s number.
“What the fuck do you want?” he barked.
“The cops have already been here. They know it was you who did the killings in Charleston. Three? You had to kill three? What’s the matter with you, man? Have you gone insane? They said you left blood there. Is that true?”
“Fucking dog, man, and Fairchild’s bitch girlfriend blew part of my right ear off. How do they know it was me?”
“Fairchild’s girlfriend had a teenage daughter who was there. I guess you didn’t see her, but she saw you. She identified you from photos.”
“Shit!” Pappy yelled.
“I told you not to go. If you’re headed toward Cowen, I guarantee they’ll be waiting for you.”
“What did you tell them?” he said.
“I told them I haven’t seen you since prison. And then I told them to get the hell out of here.”
“It’s almost over,” Pappy said. “I decided not to go to Cowen. I’ve patched myself up at my place in Cincinnati. I’m going to get some rest, and then I’m heading to Knoxville.”
His tone sounded ominous.
“You’re coming after me?”
Some part of me knew this was inevitable after I’d refused to do the bartender in Cowen. You just didn’t say no to Big Pappy Donovan. It was an insult, a sign of disrespect, and I knew the penalty for disrespect could be death.
“You’re a smart guy.”
“What the hell, Pappy? Why me?”
“You’re the one that got me into this in the first place. I helped you out, did you a huge favor, and you repay me by dragging me into a pile of shit. If you’d killed the bartender like you should have, we would have been okay, but you didn’t, so I wound up getting shot and bit by a dog at Fairchild’s place. They’re going to match up my blood through DNA, and then they’re going to come after me. But before they do, I’m going to take care of the man that got me into this.”
“You didn’t have to do a thing. You didn’t have to help me, and you damned sure didn’t have to go to Charleston. I told you not to. You made your own choices.”