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closed the door and thumped the car roof, a signal to take off. As I backed out and then straightened the wheel, I checked the rearview mirror and watched Laughton walk back to the doorway that led to the elevator. As I began to turn the corner to enter the down ramp, I looked in the rearview again and saw a man move out of the shadows and approach Laughton. Laughton looked in my direction, grabbed the guy’s arm, and pushed him against the wall. I stopped in the entrance of the down ramp, got out, and ran back the few hundred yards to them.
    â€œLaughton!” I yelled. He had the guy pinned up against a column and was punching him in the face full-force. I caught his arm on about the third or fourth punch, which lessened the blow, but didn’t stop it.
    â€œM, get outta here.” Spit flew from his mouth as he talked. His face contorted, almost frightening me.
    â€œWhat the hell’s wrong with you? You can’t beat this guy. And for what?”
    â€œGet the fuck outta here. You don’t know—”
    â€œSo, tell me.” He yanked his arm from my grip and backed off.
    I recognized the man as Wade Taylor, Laughton’s dead ex-wife’s husband.
    â€œAre you all right?” I asked Taylor. I kept an eye toward Laughton, expecting him to charge in again. Taylor nodded and wiped the spit and blood from his mouth with the back of his shirtsleeve. I leaned in some as he stumbled forward. Taylor looked to Laughton like he needed his permission to leave. Laughton breathed like a bull and paced back and forth. Five, six steps, turn.
    A car approached and stopped behind mine, which blocked the way down the ramp. The driver leaned on his horn.
    â€œGo ahead,” Laughton told me.
    I stayed put.
    â€œI’m good now.” He waved me on. “Go.”
    I hustled to my car, looking over my shoulder every few steps to make sure Laughton kept his fists from Wade’s face. I got in and continued down the garage ramp, furious at Laughton. “Unbelievable. He just blew whatever case we might have built against Taylor if Taylor killed his wife.”
    That he might have beaten Wade to death the way he was going was unbelievable, as well. Laughton never lost control. His smooth operator demeanor confounded the brass and pissed off the rednecked Mother Hubbards who were unappreciative of minority representation in the firearms division to begin with.
    As I exited the garage, my cell phone rang. Nareece. I had blown her off since the morning and still did not want to talk. She and I rode a collision course around Travis, the end undoubtedly being a major crash. My gut told me there was more to Nareece’s sudden desire to confess all to Travis than she had shared.
    â€œYou didn’t call back,” she whined.
    â€œI’ve been in court all day.” I heard her husband, John, in the background reprimanding the twins for something. “The Twofer Detective Agency must be on another one of their crime-solving capers,” I said, laughing lightly, not sure how Nareece would take it.
    â€œThey’ve taken over my third floor,” she said. “You shouldn’t be the least bit flattered that they want to be like you.” Her voice intensified. “You should be horrified and steering them in another direction. It’s always murder and mayhem and bad guys and never pink and dolls and dressing up.”
    â€œCrap,” I mumbled. I had missed the turn onto I-95. I drove down a block and made a U-turn to get on the highway.
    â€œI’m sorry if I messed up your day.”
    â€œI wasn’t talking to you. I missed my turn. I’m glad you called,” I lied.
    â€œMuriel. I went out today and did some errands. When I got home I felt something, like someone had been in the house.”
    â€œYou’re always paranoid around this time of year. You just told me that this morning.” I waited a moment, then thought better of negating her