The man started to cry.

While Falco supervised the writing of the statement, Kerri called Bellemont’s office yet again. This time there was no answer.

Keith Bellemont was now officially on her shit list.

Her cell vibrated, startling her. He might redeem himself if—not him. The number belonged to her attorney.

“Hey, Mac, what’s up?” She walked out of the shop to get some privacy. Falco had things with Byler under control.

“Kerri, we have a problem.”

The somber tone of Mike McGill’s voice caused her heart to drop somewhere in the vicinity of the sidewalk. “Okay. What kind of problem?”

“Nick has petitioned the court for a hearing. He wants to become Tori’s primary custodian.”

Kerri couldn’t breathe for a moment. Couldn’t speak. Finally, she forced herself to deal with the situation. “Tell me what we have to do to stop this.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t stop it. We can only go to the hearing and show reason why the petition is unwarranted or unwanted.”

“Tori wants to spend the summer with him in New York.” Kerri rubbed a hand over her face. “I told her two weeks was enough. He warned me that if I didn’t allow her to come for the whole summer, he would do this.” But she hadn’t believed him. She had assumed he wouldn’t bother. He’d never been one to go to a lot of trouble for Kerri or for his daughter.

“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this, Kerri.”

“So am I. It’s just ridiculous. He’s the one who wanted the new life. Why doesn’t he leave ours alone?”

“The judge will most likely go with whatever Tori wants unless Nick can prove you’re not taking proper care of her—and we both know that isn’t true. It shouldn’t be a problem. It’ll just be a pain in the rump.”

“I wish this was good news, Mac, but Tori’s pretty upset with me right now. I’m not so sure I can count on her to want to stay with me.”

“Talk to her, Kerri. We have perhaps a couple of weeks. Make things right with Tori, and most likely this will go away.”

“Thanks, Mac.” She drew in a deep breath despite the tight band around her chest. “I’ll work on it.”

Kerri tucked her phone into her pocket and resisted the urge to scream. Her life seemed to be spinning out of control, falling apart, and she couldn’t stop it.

She turned to go back into the shop, but Falco came out. “This changes everything,” he said. “You know that, right?”

It wasn’t necessary for Kerri to respond. He was aware she understood.

Sela Abbott was no longer simply a potential suspect; she was their prime suspect.

Falco pulled his cell from his pocket and checked the screen. “It’s the lab.” He accepted the call. “Falco.”

Kerri watched his face as he listened to the news. This case had just done a one-eighty. Bellemont obviously knew far more than he’d shared, since he was avoiding their calls. Sela might have contacted him for help. He was an old friend of her husband’s, and since she had no close friends of her own—according to all their witnesses—Bellemont might be the person she turned to. And he was a lawyer. But would he represent the woman who had possibly murdered his best friend?

The call ended, and Falco rested his gaze on hers. “The blood in the bed with Ben Abbott was the mother’s.”

“Jesus Christ.” Kerri had foolishly held out the tiniest bit of hope that this would not be the case.

Falco shrugged. “I told you. Vanishing wife. The woman hatched this elaborate scheme and executed it. Here we are thinking things have gone wrong, when the truth is maybe they’ve gone exactly the way she planned.”

Kerri felt ready to explode. “I need a drink.”

“There’s a pub a couple blocks that way.” He gestured to the left. “They have about fifty craft beers.”

“I don’t need a beer, Falco. I need a real drink.”

“They got those too, Devlin.”

The Derby

Sixth Avenue South

The pub had been around a few decades. Kerri had been in once back when she and Nick first married. Before she realized just how stupid she’d been, she had thought he was so handsome, so charming. He would be a wonderful husband, an ideal father. Boy, had she missed the mark.

“I know this case is going to hell in a hurry,” Falco said as he sipped his beer. “But I’m sure you’ve been down a road like this before. Why is this one getting to you so hard? Is it because the wife is pregnant?”

“It’s not the case. Not entirely, anyway.” She tossed back the shot of tequila and tapped the glass so the bartender would bring her another.

“Better slow down, Devlin, or I’ll be carrying you to the car.”

“Ha ha.” She took a breath, appreciated the nice buzz she had after downing two shots. “My ex is petitioning for primary custody of our daughter. Worse, she probably wants to go live with him.”

“Oh hell. That sucks. I thought you said she wanted to spend the summer with him.”

“That’s how it started, and now it’s out of control.” Like everything else, she didn’t mention.

He sipped his beer for a while. “Maybe you’re missing the point here, Devlin.”

The third shot landed in front of her, and she reached for it. His words kept her from immediately tossing it back. “What does that mean, Falco?”

“Maybe your daughter only wanted to have a summer adventure. Maybe the ex is the one taking the ball and running with it. If the daughter realized what he was planning, she might do an about-face.”

Now there was a scenario she hadn’t considered. She downed the shot, rode out the burn. Who was this guy? Luke Falco was supposed to be hotheaded and irreverent and sloppy and all that other stuff she had heard five days ago.

But he wasn’t. He was smart. A savvy detective. A good guy.

The tequila had loosened her up, and she was having a hard time keeping things straight. Particularly whether she had responded to whatever he’d last said. “I don’t want to like you.” She bit her lips together at the realization that she’d said the words out loud.

“I know. Most people don’t.” He downed another swallow of his first and only beer.

“I mean”—she shook her head—“I had this whole idea of who you are. A don’t-care kind of guy. A bullshitter. A guy who likes to skirt the fringes of trouble. A rule breaker.”

He shrugged. “I’ve done all those things and more.” He leaned forward, putting his face close to hers. “But I’m a good cop, Devlin. No matter how disrespectful and arrogant I can seem at times. I’m a damned good cop.”

She dared to look him straight in the eyes. “You are. I admit it. I was wrong.”

He smiled, drew back. “I should be recording this in case you change your mind when that buzz wears off.”

“I won’t change my mind. I’m glad you’re my new partner.”

He scoffed. “I’ll ask you about that tomorrow for sure.”

“I’m serious.” She blew out a weary breath. “Now, take me home. I need to talk to my daughter.”

“We could go by Bellemont’s office one more time. Maybe bust the place up.”

“You’re a funny guy, Falco.” She tossed a bill on the table that should cover both their tabs.

She didn’t like misjudging people, but she was woman enough to admit when she was wrong.

Her cell vibrated in her pocket; she pulled it out as she followed Falco out of the pub. “Devlin.”

“Detective, this is Officer Tanya Matthews.”

Kerri paused outside on the sidewalk. “Hey, Matthews. You have something for me?”

“I do, but it may not be what you were looking for. The tech just completed the scan of Ms. Gibbons’s home, and he found no hidden audio or video devices.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the quick work.”

She shoved the phone back into her pocket.

“Anything?” Falco asked.

She shook her head. Not what she was hoping for. The only thing the news meant when you got right down to it was that Ramsey was good enough not to get caught.

The man was a wild card in this case.

Maybe wilder than she had anticipated.

35

There is always one more thing.

No matter how carefully I plan. No matter the number of details that fall perfectly into place, there is always one more thing.

Exacting revenge is actually quite simple.

Far more complicated is the revealing of the whole truth while you do so.

Perhaps it would have been smarter to have the revenge and quietly walk away, but I want all of Birmingham to know the monsters who live among them. I want to expose the disgusting underbellies of all involved.

To do so requires evidence.

Conjecture and hearsay will not do. I must have tangible evidence.

When attempting to trap the devil, it is imperative to become acquainted with his behavior, his modus operandi, as the police would say. I now know that the devil at the core of this web of evil took certain steps to protect himself.

Insurance, so to speak. And now I have that insurance too. The insurance is evidence. Very good evidence.