“I know. I wasn’t planning to walk in there and confess tonight, Liv. I’m not that selfless, or that stupid. It comes down to this: I won’t let him go to jail. If it looks like that’s going to happen, then I’ll do whatever I have to.”

I reached over and pulled him into a kiss. He went slow at first, as if braced for me to pull away. I only kissed him harder, held him tighter, and the kiss turned hungry, rough, with an edge of desperation.

“We’re okay?” he said, as if he had to check, no matter how clear that seemed.

“I’m just sorry,” I said. “I’m so damned sorry—”

He cut me off with a hard kiss, then said, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Nothing to be sorry for. But I did, didn’t I? As inadvertent as our roles were, we still felt the weight of them, the guilt of them, and anything we could do to divert our thoughts from that, if only for a few minutes, we seized on it, losing ourselves in the moment, banishing the rest into the night.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The next morning, Gabriel was arraigned on charges of second-degree murder. While I’d held out some hope that wouldn’t happen, the arraignment was simply a formality, a chance for Gabriel to enter his official plea. Not guilty, of course. That’s all he got to say.

Next came the bail hearing. That’s where I got nervous. Gabriel wasn’t exactly a popular lawyer. In court, he could be an arrogant, condescending asshole. But Ricky reminded me that he was careful never to be arrogant or condescending or asshole enough to turn judges against him, because that’s like intentionally pissing off the referee. Gabriel balanced his belligerence with perfect self-control and a dead-on grasp of the law.

While the state’s attorney tried arguing against granting bail, that was difficult when they’d decided on second-degree instead of first. Gabriel put forward his case for bail clearly and succinctly. No previous record. No passport. Established and successful local businessman with ties to the community.

Bail was set at one million. By noon, Gabriel was free.

—

“Your car is in the lot,” I said as we walked out, jogging to keep up with Gabriel’s long strides. “I’ll drive you back to your place. I’m sure you want a shower and a nap. Hell, I’m sure you want to spend the rest of the day holed up by yourself.”

“I’ve had quite enough solitary confinement, thank you.”

“You know what I mean. That couldn’t have been a restful night—”

“I convinced them to give me my own holding cell by suggesting I might otherwise give my fellow inmates free legal advice. While it was not quite the accommodations I’m accustomed to, I’ve had worse.”

He said it offhandedly, but with him it didn’t mean the bed in his college dorm had been lumpy. He’d slept on the streets.

“Well, you’ll want a shower at least,” I said.

“Stop fussing, Olivia.”

“I’m just—”

He looked down at me. “Stop fussing.”

There was no annoyance in his words. But I still fell back. Ricky took my hand, squeezing it and mouthing, “It’s all right.” After a few steps he called up to Gabriel, “We’ll let you do your thing, then. If you need us today, just call.”

Gabriel glanced over, and then I did see annoyance, irritation that we weren’t beside him.

“I need to speak to Olivia about all this,” he said. “You and I need to speak, too. I would rather have both conversations at my apartment, for privacy.” He turned to me. “With Ricky, it’s a business matter. Confidential. I’ll have you stop by the office for a few files while we—”

“I told her everything,” Ricky said.

Now that hard look turned on Ricky.

“I know you advised me not to,” Ricky said.

“Strongly and unequivocally advised—”

“It was still advice. Which I was free to take or ignore.” Ricky kept his tone casual, but steel crept in. “I agreed with that advice before you were arrested, because I’d only be confessing to unburden myself, which wasn’t fair to Liv. But with all this, she had to know. Now she does.”

Gabriel glanced down at my hand, which was still holding Ricky’s, and he resumed walking.

“You’ll both come back to my apartment, then,” he said. “Olivia, ride with me. We’ll stop to pick up those files.”

“I’ll grab lunch,” Ricky said.

—

We returned to Gabriel’s condo. I could tell he didn’t like having Ricky there. For a moment, I thought he was going to start hyperventilating. But Ricky had been up during the police search. The bridge had been crossed, and there was no sense retreating now.

We got comfortable—or Ricky and I did—and the three of us started to talk. Gabriel would learn the nature of the evidence against him shortly. From his brief talks with the police and assistant SA, Gabriel had figured out his apparent motive. They knew his recent history with James, of course, given those outstanding assault charges. They would argue that on the night of James’s murder, Gabriel had gone after James again, following their public disagreement in James’s office the day before. They believed Gabriel had intended only to frighten James into withdrawing charges—hence second-degree murder instead of first—but the beating had gotten out of hand. When James died, Gabriel had seen an opportunity. He could stage the body to look like one of the Larsens’ victims, and then use it as further proof that Pamela and Todd were innocent.