Page 49

Davis gives him a look. Jalbert shrugs and flicks his two fingers at her, meaning she should carry on. He says, apropos of nothing (at least that Danny can figure out), “One, three, six.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Go on and tell your tale.” Slight emphasis on tale.

Davis says, “You have a little bit of a temper problem, don’t you, Danny?”

“I used to drink. I stopped.”

“That isn’t a very responsive answer.” She says it reproachfully. “If we ask your ex—and we will—what will she say about your temper?”

“She’ll say I had what you just called it, a temper problem. Past tense.”

“Oh, all gone? Is that right?”

She waits. Danny says nothing.

“Did you ever knock her around?”

“No.” Then forces himself to add, because it’s the truth: “I grabbed her by the arm once. Left a bruise. That was just before she kicked me out.”

“Never by the neck?” She smiles and leans forward, inviting confidence. “Tell the truth and shame the devil.”

“No.”

“And you never raped her?”

“Hey, come on,” Ball says. “Respect, remember?”

“I have to ask,” Davis says. “The Wicker girl was raped.”

“I never raped my wife,” Danny says. Not for the first time he’s struck by a feeling of unreality and thinks, I helped you guys. If not for me, that girl would still be a stray dog’s snack bar.

“When’s the last time you went to Arkansas City?”

The change of direction feels like whiplash. “What? I’ve never been to Arkansas in my life.”

“Arkansas City, Kansas. Near the Oklahoma border.”

“Never been there.”

“No? Well, we can’t check the EDR in your truck, can we? Because they weren’t installed in Toyota Tundras for another year. But we could check on your phone, isn’t that right?”

Danny repeats, “Let’s see how this goes.”

“How about Hunnewell? That’s also in Kan—”

Danny shakes his head. “I’ve heard of it but never been there.”

“What about the Gas-n-Go where I-35 and SR 166 intersect? Ever been there?”

“I guess not to that particular one, but they’re all pretty much the same, aren’t they?”

“You guess? Come on, Danny. This is serious.”

“If that Gas-n-Go is in Hunnewell, I’ve never been there.”

She makes a note, then gives him a reproachful look. “If we could just check your phone—”