Page 77 of Think Twice

“Yeah, but you always drove to the hoop with your left.”

Greg smiled. “You used to overplay it.”

“The rare righty who wants to go left,” Myron said. Then: “Nice to reminisce but Jeremy is waiting. What’s your point?”

“I played in a game sometime early September.”

“Okay.”

“It was one of those games where the guys get out of hand. You know. Too much testosterone.”

Myron knew exactly what he meant. “It got physical?”

“Very. A guy elbowed me in the nose. I started bleeding. Another scratched me. At one point, someone hit me in the back of the head. Hard. I went down. I may have lost consciousness, I don’t know. I don’t remember much.”

“When was this exactly?”

“I don’t remember. Like I said, I’m pretty sure it was early September.”

“So what you’re saying is—”

“Yeah, maybe it makes no sense, but if my DNA is at that murder scene, like skin under Cecelia’s fingernails or blood… I mean, I was bleeding pretty good that night. My nose might have even been broken.”

“Did you go to a doctor or ER?”

“No, of course not. Come on, you remember what it was like. You shake it off, right? That’s how we were raised.”

Again that was true. If you could walk home, you didn’t complain. Dumb but there you go.

“But I’m thinking about it now. One of the guys handed me a towel to stop my nosebleed. I don’t know where that towel is now. And the scratch marks. You can ask Grace. They were pretty deep. So if I am being framed, if someone planted my DNA at a murder scene…”

“This pickup game,” Myron said. “Where was it?”

“There’s an outdoor court in Wallkill. I don’t remember the name of it.”

Myron nodded. “Okay, I’ll check it out. Anything else?”

“I didn’t do this, Myron.”

“It’s weird though,” Myron said. “Jordan Kravat, Cecelia Callister. You knew them both.”

“Tangentially,” Greg countered. Then he added, “How many murder victims have you known tangentially?”

Touché.

“I know you don’t owe me anything—”

“You’re still my client,” Myron said. “So I’ll do what I can.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

You point the rifle at his chest.

Ronald Prine stares at you. You see the question come to his face. He doesn’t know who you are. He has never seen you before. He is wondering who you are and what you want and which one of his brilliant go-to lines will work for him.

Because life has always worked for him.

You smile. You love this part.