“Listen to him, Jess,” Myron interrupted. “There’s nothing we can do tonight.”

The drug began to take effect. Her eyes fluttered back. “Nancy …”

“It’s okay,” Myron soothed.

“Her face was blue …”

“Shhh.”

Jessica slipped into unconsciousness. Myron looked up at the doctor. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’ll be fine. I think the shock of what she saw was worse than the blow to her head.”

Jake put his hand on Myron’s shoulder. “Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

“I want to stay.”

“You can come back later. Right now we need to talk.”

Myron gazed down at Jessica. She was deep in sleep.

“She’ll be out for a while,” the doctor assured him.

They walked down the corridor silently and took the elevator back to the lobby. The place had that hospital smell—that unique combo of something antiseptic and the hospital food. Win had parked the car and was now sitting in the waiting area. He stood when he saw them.

“That your friend Win?” Jake asked, motioning with his chin. “The one P.T. told me about?”

“Yes.”

“Tell him to stay here. I want to talk to you alone.”

Myron signaled to Win. Win nodded, sat back down, picked up a newspaper, crossed his legs. Jake looked him over for a minute. “He as crazy as P.T. says?”

“Pretty much.”

“Come on.”

They grabbed coffee and found a table in the corner. “The crime scene unit is going over Nancy’s house now. They’ll beep me if they find anything.”

“So what do you know so far?” Myron asked.

“Not much. Nancy spent the last few days in Cancún—a graduation present from her parents.”

“Have they been told?”

He shook his head. “I’m going over there right after we talk.”

Silence. Jake broke it. “So how did Jessica get involved in this?”

“She wanted me to look into her father’s murder. She didn’t buy the fact that he was killed in a botched robbery.”

Jake nodded. “She thought her old man’s murder had something to do with her sister.”

“Yes.”

“I figured as much. I got the file in the car.”

Myron sat up. “Adam Culver’s homicide file?”

“Hey, I ain’t an idiot, Bolitar. You start investigating after eighteen months. Why? Had to be the father’s murder. You saw a connection. But I gotta be honest. I don’t see it. No connections in that file at all. A few inconsistencies maybe. But no connection.”

“What sort of inconsistencies?” Myron asked.

“Adam Culver was supposed to be in Denver when he was killed. At a medical examiners’ conference at the Hyatt Regency. But he never showed, missed his morning flight.”

“Does the file say why?”

“Adam didn’t feel well. A reasonable explanation.”

“Who told them that?”

“His wife.”

Pause. “What else?”

“Nothing else. The crime scene—a quiet street—was unremarkable. He was stabbed through the heart.”

“What was he doing out?”

“The wife said he went out to buy some groceries.”

Myron chewed that one over for a moment. “Odd thing to do,” he said, “when you’re not feeling well.”

“Yeah, that’s easy for us to say, sitting here like this. But the cops were concentrating on finding a mugger. No one really gave a shit about a missed flight or what it might mean.”

“Any witnesses to the murder?”

“None. The file is pretty bare-bone.” Jake leaned forward and tried to stare Myron down. Myron did not look away. “Now,” Jake said slowly, “you start talking to me. And don’t give me no ‘I don’t want no one hurt’ crap. Too late for that now. Why are you really involved in all this?”

“I told you Jessica.”

Jake leaned farther forward until their faces were only inches apart. “Stop jerking me around,” he spat out. “I ain’t blind. I can see Jessica Culver is great tail. But don’t start giving me this bullshit that you just decided to drop everything and help on a whim. You ain’t that hard up.”

“There was also Christian to consider,” Myron said.

“What about him?”

“He’s my top client. He was still upset about his fiancée’s disappearance.”

Jake made a snorting nose. “Yeah, I bet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Jake said, “that I’m not convinced Christian is completely innocent in all this.”

“But you said the DNA test on the semen—”

“I’m not saying he raped her.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That he might be involved,” Jake replied. “Your client had no solid alibi for the time of the disappearance. He claims he was in bed at eleven o’clock, but no one can confirm it.”

“He has a single room,” Myron said. “Who’s going to confirm he was in bed when he lived alone?”

“It’s suspicious,” Jake replied.

“How? Kathy Culver was seen entering the team locker room after ten, right?”

Jake nodded.

“And you know Christian was meeting with the offensive coordinator until ten-thirty,” Myron continued. “That’s confirmed.”

“But that’s where his alibi ends.”

“He went to bed after that. Kathy was seen wandering around on the other side of the campus at eleven o’clock. I don’t see the connection.”

“Maybe there is none,” Jake said simply. “But he’s the boyfriend. The boyfriend is always a prime suspect. And there was something else.”

“What?”

“His teammates.”

“What about them?”

Jake finished his coffee. He tapped the cup to get the last few drops. “They were cooperative, I guess, but some of them seemed awfully vague. Nothing I could pin down, but some of them looked more nervous than they should. Like they were covering something up. Like maybe, just maybe, they were protecting their star quarterback before the big game.”

Except, Myron thought, nobody on the team liked Christian. His teammates would not have gone out of their way to protect him. Just the opposite, in fact.