The Liar

“They’re not altogether convinced he saw much of anything, or anything useful. But the man—a boy, really—was in the building the night Privet was killed. He said how he heard this pop. Just one pop, like a muffled firecracker, he said. He didn’t think much of it. The timing’s right, and more, he saw who they think is the killer leave.”

“Harlow?”

“They can’t say for sure, but he’s claiming the person he saw wasn’t that big—tall or broad. No beard, either. He says blond hair—very blond—and glasses with thick, dark rims. Wearing a dark suit. He says how he can’t be sure of much, it was only a quick glimpse—saw him leaving the building when he was looking out the window. Saw him walk across the street and get into a big SUV.”

“Wig, glasses, shave.” Griff shrugged. “At a glance, in the dark, it’s hard to say if it was Harlow or not.”

“More, he was a little high at the time, and where he shouldn’t have been. That’s why he didn’t say anything until he was picked up for possession, and not the first time on that. He’d been working as a photographer’s assistant in that building, and he’d gone in late because he was setting up to shoot some porn on the side. He’s trying to make a deal so he doesn’t have to go to jail.”

“So he could be making it up trying to save his ass.”

“He could, but he has the time, and that single pop. Just one. The police didn’t say how many times Privet was shot, how many shots fired. So that’s something to consider.”

Griff considered it while they glided on the swing and sipped. “It’s a stretch to think somebody else shot the PI. Same gun, that’s what they said, as the one used to kill Warren. And we know Harlow was in the area. But let’s stretch it. Somebody else is involved, somebody else hired the detective. Maybe somebody connected to the Miami Montvilles, or the insurance company, or somebody Richard worked with at some point.”

“It makes me wonder if maybe that somebody killed Richard and staged the boating accident.”

“Bigger stretch.”

“I know it, but he was so determined to go, so I’m wondering now if it was to meet somebody, to finally deal with the jewelry he’d stolen. Another double cross, but on him this time.”

“What would you do if you’d just gotten your hands on millions in jewelry—not hot anymore—and had killed to get your hands on it?”

“I’d run fast and far, but . . .”

“There are still two people who want what you have,” Griff finished. “So you hire a detective, and you put him on it. And on you, Red, in case you knew something.”

“Griff, it’s made me think about how many people I let into that house up North in those weeks after Richard’s death. I might have let his killer—if there was one—inside to give me an appraisal, to take something away. Or all the times I was out of the house for hours at a go. Someone who knew how could’ve gotten in, looked around all they wanted. If Richard left something behind that mattered in all this.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m making it more complicated than it already is.”

“It’s pretty risky to try to stage a boating accident in the middle of a storm. Why not just dump the body—or leave it like the others?”

“I don’t know.” But she’d chewed it over endlessly. “I was thinking to buy time. Or maybe it was an accident—killing Richard, I mean. And the rest happened from there. And the simplest is usually right,” she finished. “Richard died in an accident. Harlow killed the woman and the detective. And this witness was coked up, got no more than a glimpse out a window. I’m going to stop worrying about it as of right this minute.

“We’ve got this beautiful evening, and a few hours to enjoy it.”

“Maybe you could stay, just stay again. I could get another invitation to breakfast.”

She smiled, sipped. “It happens I have an overnight bag in the car, in case I got an invitation.”

“I’ll get it.”

“Thank you. It’s on the floor of the passenger seat. Oh, and there’s a blanket on the seat. Would you bring that, too?”

“Are you cold?” he asked as he headed for the car. “It must be eighty, at least.”

“I do love a warm evening. Makes me feel like I’ll never want to go inside, just stay out, watch the sky change, the light change, hear the first night birds when twilight comes.”

“We can stay out as long as you want.” He started back with bag and blanket. “I fell back on the old reliable of steaks on the grill.”

“That sounds perfect. For later.”

She took the blanket from him, gave it a quick whip in the air to open it.

“Where’d the dog go?”

“Oh, I put him inside, with the rawhide bone I had in my pocket. I think we’ll all be happier this way.” She laid the blanket on the porch, straightened, shook her hair back. Smiled. “Because I think it’s time you got me naked on the porch.”

She staggered him. Aroused him. Delighted him. “Is that what time it is?”

“I think it’s past time, but I know you’ll make up for it.”

“I can do that.” He set her bag aside, pulled her into his arms.