Page 66

CHAPTER 66

THEY’D GONE BACK TO their breakfast. It was the cozy image of them sitting there at the little table with boiled eggs and buttered toast and a coffeepot between them that gave me the last bit of fuel I needed to really explode. Their only son was languishing in a prison cell, injured and terrified, and Barney Hansen had a forkful of eggs in front of his mouth and was about to take a bite.

I crossed the room in five fast steps and smacked the fork out of his hand.

“Jesus!” He tried to get up. I shoved him down.

“There was so much you could have done,” I said, trying not to scream. My voice trembled. I had to clear my throat, it was so tight with anger. “So much.”

“What are you talking about?” Barney snapped.

“You could have driven down to LA,” I said, trying to keep it together. “You could have helped search for Daisy. You could have stood by your son while he was interviewed by the press. You could have waited for him after he was interrogated.”

The Hansens stared at me.

“You could have spoken to reporters outside his house.” My voice was rising. I couldn’t stop it. “Told the world that your son was not a killer. You could have stayed at his house so Troy didn’t have to rattle around in it alone, wondering what the hell was going to happen to him. There was so much you could have done to help your son through this ordeal. But instead, you chose to try to profit — to profit — from what’s happening to him.”

Barney’s fists were clenched on the table. Reina’s eyes were filled with tears.

“Woman,” he said to me, his words as unsteady as mine, “you better get your fat ass back out that door you just broke or I swear to God, I’ll pick you up and throw you through it.”

“We’ll talk,” Reina blurted out. Barney and I looked at her.

“You shut your mouth.” Barney pointed at his wife’s face. “That’s fifty-five grand you’re danglin’ over the edge of the goddamn toilet bowl right now, Reina. That kind of money can set us up for the rest of our lives. If we talk to this bitch, our deal with the TV people is worthless.”

“I’m not here to get an exclusive!” I snarled. “I want to save your son!”

“He ain’t worth saving!” Barney roared back at me. He stood up, and we were nose to nose. His breath was warm on my cheeks. “You don’t get it, do you? We haven’t told the world our son’s not a killer because he is one, and we ain’t goddamn liars!”

I had to step back, hold the door frame. My head swirled.

“Daisy weren’t his first,” Barney said. “Boy started young and just never stopped.”