Angie tried to work the advantage. She could feel at least part of a plan coming into focus, even if it was just to buy Jo some time. ‘Jo goes to the grocery store on Thursdays. That’s tomorrow. We can plant the pills then, make sure that her kid isn’t with her. That keeps her safe for two days while she’s in jail. Marcus, you’ll make sure Jo is all right during the party. Then Monday morning, she’s off to rehab, and we’ve bought ourselves thirty days. Meanwhile, the All-Star Complex breaks ground. The press stays good. Everybody wins.’

Marcus chewed the side of his lip. He was finally letting himself come around. ‘What about her kid?’

Angie said, ‘They’ll give Jo one phone call. She can ask her mother to pick up Anthony from school and watch him until Fig gets home.’ Her mouth was so dry she could barely make enough saliva to speak. The plan looked good on paper, but it was risky as hell, mostly because it depended on a guy with an uncontrollable temper keeping himself in check. She told Kip and Marcus, ‘You guys have to be clear with Fig that Jo needs to look good for the cameras. All it will take is one bruise, or her walking funny, and some idiot with a blog is going to break the story. If Fig hates the press as much as you say he does, then make it clear that they’re going to be watching Jo like a hawk, especially once she’s out of jail.’

‘This works,’ Kip said. ‘Two days in jail. Thirty days in rehab. Jo sees how easily we can turn her life upside down. Fig will be fine by the time she gets out. You know his temper burns off if you give him some time.’

Marcus was nodding already. ‘Might wake the dude up, make him think she’s taking pills ’cause maybe she can’t take what he’s giving anymore.’

Angie bit her lip so she wouldn’t call him on his bullshit.

‘Okay, good.’ Kip turned to Dale. ‘The video on the phone can be wiped when Jo is in jail, right? Some kind of government mistake, blah-blah-blah.’

Dale said, ‘My guy can do that remotely.’

‘Good,’ Kip repeated. ‘So, Dale plants the Oxy. I’ll get one of Ditmar’s people to shuttle Jo through the arraignment, tell them not to make a stink when she’s held over to Saturday.’

‘Naw, man. Get her to plant the Oxy.’ Marcus nodded toward Angie. ‘This guy looks like he’ll be dead before I leave the room.’

Dale’s lips went into a tight white line. He was dying, but he still had his pride.

‘Fine. Done. We’re out of here.’ Kip told Marcus, ‘Let’s head back upstairs. I’ve got some last-minute details to go over with you about the ground-breaking.’

Marcus took another look at Angie before he let Kip lead him back toward the elevator.

Dale waited until they were gone before he spoke. ‘Fucking piece of shit fucker.’ He kicked over a ladder. ‘Who does he think made his rape charges go away? And the two that didn’t even get filed?’ He kicked the ladder again. ‘I put blood on my hands so that dickwad could keep dribbling a fucking basketball.’

Angie guessed she had figured out how Dale had finagled the money for the trust fund.

He said, ‘Do I look like a fucking corpse?’

‘You look like you’ve got the flu,’ she lied. ‘You could always go back on dialysis.’

Dale leaned against the wall. He was winded from kicking the ladder. ‘Sitting in that fucking hospital room for four hours a day, three days a week, everybody talking about how they’re gonna get a kidney soon.’

Angie couldn’t listen to his sob story. She had to figure out how she was going to take care of Jo. ‘I need to get going.’

‘Hold on. Where’s that iPad? The clone thing? I don’t trust this bullshit about no copy on the laptop.’

‘I didn’t see any movies. Just a bunch of pictures, emails with her mother.’

Dale stared at her, trying to suss out the truth.

Angie rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll smash it with a hammer. Problem solved.’

‘Fine. But bring me the pieces.’

Shit, now she had to buy another iPad and pound it into parts. ‘Anything else, Your Majesty?’

‘You know this jail and rehab thing is only temporary.’ Dale raised his eyebrows. ‘Kip’s paranoid, Marcus is terrified of LaDonna. You think they’re gonna be cured of that when Jo gets out of Hotel Junkie in thirty days?’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I got you this job. You wanna keep it, you’re gonna have to take over for me.’

‘You mean I gotta get blood on my hands?’

‘Don’t put on an act with me, Lady Macbeth.’ Dale’s yellow teeth flashed. ‘Mark my words, even if Jo keeps her mouth shut, these guys are gonna get paranoid. They’re gonna start losing sleep. They’re gonna start worrying about what Jo will say. Eventually they’ll come to you to solve the problem on a more permanent basis.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘You know what it means.’

Angie did. He thought that Kip would hire her to murder Jo, which confirmed in her mind that Kip had hired Dale to kill for him before. She hoped to God that he’d gotten more money than the measly quarter of a million that he was leaving Delilah.

‘Listen to your Uncle Dale,’ he advised. ‘Make it look like a suicide. She’s got a drug problem. Jail and rehab would depress the hell out of anybody. Some pills, some booze, a bathtub with the water left running, and she slips down and drowns peacefully in her sleep.’

Angie started to shake her head, but then she remembered that Dale wouldn’t ever find out what happened. ‘Thanks for the advice, Uncle Dale.’

‘Wait.’ He stopped her from leaving. ‘Seems strange that you know Jo goes to the grocery store on Thursdays. Especially since you only started following her this week.’

‘I asked around. You’re not the only person who knows how to be a detective.’

‘Right.’

‘Is that all?’ Angie tried to walk away, but he grabbed her arm.

‘You’ll need these for tomorrow.’ Dale reached into his pocket. He pulled out a Ziploc bag that contained around a dozen green pills. OxyContin, 80 milligrams. Enough to land Jo in jail, but not enough so that she could get hit with distribution.

He said, ‘I know you prefer Vicodin.’ His yellow teeth showed under his wet lips. ‘Maybe a little too much.’

‘What shot out your kidneys? Rainbows and sunshine?’ Angie wasn’t going to let him use her habit against her. Dale had blown through enough coke over the years to powder the Alps. ‘At least I know when to pull back.’

‘Doctors ever get that hole in your stomach to close up?’ Dale had a smug look on his face. ‘It’s the coating on the pills, right? Eats through the stomach lining.’

Angie snatched away the bag of Oxy. ‘Take a shower, Dale. Marcus was right. You reek of piss.’

‘Why don’t you lick it off me?’

Angie could hear him laughing as she walked away.

THURSDAY, 10:22 AM

Angie pushed an empty cart through the Kroger, looking for Jo. The store was too clean. Her eyes hurt from the fluorescent lights. Everything was aggressively tidy. The last time Angie had been in an actual grocery store, she was with Will. Domesticity was his only fetish. He bought things in bulk, always the same brands with the same logos because he was too stupid to read about anything that might be new or better. Angie loathed domesticity. She had gotten bored with the whole process, sneaking crap into his cart: some root beer, then peach sorbet, then a different kind of butter, and five minutes later, he was freaking out like the robot from Lost in Space.